"Explain your past, Musa" the gov'ness walks at my right, shielding my from the piercing sun as we walks with the caravan. After the trench was dismantled, we are walking by foot to reach the capital, as the trench-line have been pushed far into our homeland.
"I was a cook when the war started, gov'ness" and now I am left wondering why did she chose me from anyone else in the caravan, there's the sergeant, the whom she asked to see earlier today.
"You have been trusted to cook rations for your company, as early as the war?" her baroque companion, similarly donned in her armor, walks close by ours, but never overtook us.
"No, gov'ness, I was a 10 years old when the war started, the war went for seven years and I fought for the last two" before she came, with weapons of the stars that could've decimate my trench instead of theirs
"Such a young man you are, seven years ago, the Emperor grants me audience, revealing that I was his progenitor"
This talk about an "imperium" across the stars and the deified emperor has gotten me worried. Is that her reason for talking to me, to ease my pain before sending me to the stars far from here? Or simply an act of pity?
The meager town came into view, and was it not for the ancient structure, we would've thought this was anywhere but the capital. Gray skies and beaten earth have become the synonym for the heart of Nagorow.
"I must say, this was not our expectation when your leader came into contact with my ship, begging for salvation" the gov'ness depart from me, and my instinct was to follow her, but who am I to her? And so I stay put and follow the rest of the caravan back to the main camp.
"You're lucky to have an audience with the Lady, runt" one of gov'ness' companion knocked me to the dirt, assuming that he's doing it out of spite and jealousy. I can see him walking to gov'ness
"I apologize for my companion's doing" another of gov'ness', as he extends his fingers that allowed me to stand to my feet "Lucius was indeed jealous, he was our best melee combatant and our Primarch haven't even bat an eye for him"
"Is that a rare thing?" Lucius and the gov'ness seems to enter the structure, doing their business there. I quickly glance at my watch, the gray sky seems to be forever, and it shows 1641. And I quickly look back at the gov'ness companion
"It is, perhaps Mother saw something within you, perhaps yours was interesting at the moment" the giant release his helmet, letting his bronze hair free from the confine "I am Rylanor, pleasure to meet you, Musa"
"As is mine, gov'nor"
The Sejm was delightful in seeing Fulgrim and her companions, as well as the news of the apparent victory on the frontlines. Such delight warrants them to spent their moneys on a grand feast right at the capital, inviting everyone within range to attend, with the guest of honor being the gov'ness herself.
"I would have thought you are with Mother, Musa" Rylanor brought two plates in his palm, the plate whom was enough for me was made miniscule by his hands, each contained meager food they could thrown
"Thanks, gov'nor" the feast gives us chair to sit, yet here I stand with him, outside of the building. Somehow the gov'nor chose to make a companion out of me, whilst gov'ness over there busy herself with her empire in the suns.
"I almost forgot what a food taste, Musa, back in the campaign, we would be served liquid ration with occasional starch" I took a look at him, and his plate was already cleaned
"You should try my cooking then, I cook better"
We let a simple laugh from the situation, from a soldier to another, from a human to another too. The door barges open and whom I thought to be Lucius emerge, escaping the feast.
"It's obnoxious inside, Rylanor, if you wish to see me, then don't, I'm heading to the nearest landing coordinate" and went he goes, somewhere place only he, gov'nor and gov'ness know. Something that I would not understand no matter how much gov'nor taught me.
"I have to agree with dear Lucius there" and speak of the gov'ness, and she shall came, looking at the horizon "they barely separate the nobility and the peasant"
I didn't mean to stare, but gov'ness wore something fine, something you'd see from paintings high in temple's ceiling, an ascendant of man. Looking carefully, it seems she wore old Nagorovian dress and modify it to suit her stature, or rather, her figure. She need not a corset, it seems.
"The food is delectable, Mother" Rylanor already took my plate without my knowing, something that I relent
"Every food is delectable when you are starved of them, dear Rylanor"
We all watched as a star suddenly rose at the horizon, perhaps something to do with Lucius and his departure. I suppose this is our future, being shackled by another uncaring emperor to fight the dangers of mankind.
"Say, Rylanor, but does that star seems approaching us?" and behind Lucius' ascend, a second star indeed looks as if its getting nearer. Just before I respond, nor gov'nor did for that matter, the air raid sirens blare and screech
"It is too late to dodge the missile, Mother, and I am the only one still wearing my armor, I would suggest taking a shield behind me" Rylanor easily stood and tower over us. I didn't even wait as I quickly take cover.
"Don't be ridiculous, Rylanor, these brutes couldn't even muster the technology to weaponize simple nuclear reaction" Rylanor didn't wait and cover me with his entire figure, and I just prayed that whatever nuclear is nor what reaction it cause would not be as devastating as I'd fear.
The moment of impact was blurry, but there was an apparent pain riddled to it, as the temperature rose akin to a sun blasting us with the heat. Like what was drilled into my head, I quickly wrap my entire face with anything, covering up the assuredly loud aftermath and the shrapnel flying around. I couldn't hear
And I wish I wouldn't hear
By the time the air around began to cool, my throat was hoarse, as if I have been shouting the entire time. It wasn't until I noticed the spasmic movement on my mouth that I realized, I have been barking around.
"At ease, gov'nor, at ease lads" I chanted
"It seems it was a nuclear explosion, Mother, albeit a primitive version of it" Rylanor seems to ignore my rant, addressing the gov'ness instead. He then release me, before coughing up liquids right at my face "apologies" he mumbles
"Be damned your humor, Rylanor" I hear the gov'ness, rasping in breath as I slowly gather my senses "Musa, you lived it seems" my eyes were blinking rapidly, due to the heat and the dust it caused "oh Rylanor, I apologized for your condition".
When my eyes fully recovered, I saw only desolation. No Man's Land was gentler than this, water and mud found refuge within them after all. But what I saw was beyond it, ruins and dry earth, trees and building charred, and people would likely evaporate. Peoples, on whom I was fighting with and fighting for, for two damned years. I couldn't take it anymore, first Maria and now this? Fate was far too cruel
Liquid barge through my mouth, followed close by every air in my lungs and waters in my eyes. There was no rythym, only that I was doing it in instinct, lying on all fours at the stairs near the gov'nor and gov'ness.
Only then did I brave to stand up, looking at them and the impact it caused. Gov'nor seems to be stuck in his place, unable to move as his hair rotted away and flesh melts to his armor. Now I understand why did he puke. The gov'ness was way less impacted, as her clothing burnt with the flesh on her skins, with her lying on her back.
"Cease your staring, Musa" she quickly commanded
"Yes ma'am" I quickly slap my cheek, a soldier need to finish his duties until the bitter end, and the enemy was no better after all "orders, gov'ness?"
"You're waiting for my orders?" she slowly sat herself, throwing out blood from her mouth while her arms sizzle and creates smoke "so it seems, help me get to one of landing coordinates" when she did sat, she saw her own legs, crushed from the debris of the railings and burnt to crisp "it seems I would have to relegate the matter of combat to you"
"Private Musa at the ready, gov'ness" so soon to serve this faraway empire, and my first duty is to escape the chaos that will ensue. And first, I need to find a cart or I will be carrying the giant on my back
"Musa, before you go" Rylanor rasp and wheeze as he reach for something, before he carved it with letters and numbers "you are familiar with latitudes and longitudes of your planet, I assume, and if not then you can ask Mother for direction" he gave me the knife, on which he have engraved numbers.
"And what will happen to you, gov'nor?" I took the knife and pocket it, then looking back at the gov'ness
"I will be fine, Musa, all I ask is that you deliver Mother there to the place, and rest assured that you will be awarded"
I ignore the last part, something about the futility in wealth and glory that I realized, living as a cook my entire life before becoming a soldier taught me that. I quickly strip my clothing, and though I have to face the cold soon, finding the gov'ness means of transportation is more valuable. I quickly wrapped the gov'ness legs with a shirt, then I cut another of my shirt into pieces before I wrapped it at her so I can carry her off, my suspender helped in holding her together too
"Something tells me I won't enjoy the journey" Fulgrim murmurs as she rest on my shoulder
"Be safe Mother, I pray that Musa will be sufficient to you"

[First] [Previous] [Next]
Edited by WaveOfWire
- - - - -
Two days… It had been two days that Tracy had gone to sleep while Harrison was working, only to come back in the morning to see him still in the workshop. She knew he was damn productive, sure, but that really couldn’t be healthy. Apparently, it had something to do with the weird bowl of orange… soup… that Cera gave him. No way was it just caffeine; any amount of the stuff would have been filtered out of his system by now. He mentioned a tingling feeling too…
Damn, she did not know enough about drugs to even start assuming what that massive alien had Harrison fucked up on. At least the scanner said he was ‘fine’—if you ignore the other glaring issues the machine brought up. Plus, he said he didn’t mind it. Either way, he managed to complete the weaving component and a few other electrical backbones of the fabricator last night, so the project was practically done, and after seeing the engineer work himself half to death, she was dead-set on finishing it.
She was currently tits-deep into the upper manufacturing portion of the towering machine. It took a tall step-stool—on top of the nearby desk—for her to push her small shoulders through the even smaller access panels high on the everything-printer. It was difficult to fit her torso in, but she managed, holding a flashlight between her teeth as she fiddled with a stubborn series of mechanical ‘hands.’ Nothing new. The situation reminded her of the ‘shop back on Mars; it had the same ever-present scent of copper and industrial sealant. All that was missing was her dad’s ancient tunes blasting through some shitty speakers… Hold on…
The modular component in her grip was successfully attached with a resonating thock. Tracy squirmed out of the dim wire-filled crevice, trying her best to not rip her only tank-top on any bolts or corners, and getting a face-full of the bright flood-lights illuminating the workshop. She scowled and blocked out the searing light with a hand, but she was a bit too late to avoid going half-blind.
“Are the mechanical manipulators in?” Harrison grunted, poking his head out underneath the printer’s floor-adjacent maintenance hatch. She looked down at him as she tried to blink off the spots in her vision. His hair was messy, barely kept in line by his habit of combing through it with his fingers. The areas around his eyes were dark and sunken… Guess that’s what two all-nighters did to a man. He’d be seeing the hat man or start hallucinating if he didn’t get any sleep soon… but then again, the two of them were so close to finishing the fabricator…
“You bet.” She gave him a thumbs up, slamming the panel cover closed. “Feel free to test it.”
He nodded and slid back underneath the machine. “Gotcha”
She gently stepped off the stool and slid off the side of the desk, stretching herself out. If her piss-poor sitting posture or her tank-top puppies hadn’t already fucked her spine up, bending over backward to build this fabricator sure as hell would. She sat down next to the panel where Harrison resided, resting her back against the fabrication tower. Her excited voice broke the muffled noises of the engineer’s work. “So… Harrison?”
“Hmm—”
“—Mind if I play some music?”
The sounds from the hatch stopped, followed by his muffled, shocked tone echoing from beneath the fabricator. “You have music!?”
She smirked at seeing the expression on his face when his head popped out again. “I sure do… Did you seriously not download any to your data pad?”
He slipped out from beneath the fabricator fully, huffing as he took a knee beside her. The scent of melded rubber, wire, and his liquid labor reached her nose not-so-unpleasantly. “You would not believe how much of a pain it is to repair an entire barracks without it… So, yeah, I didn’t.”
“Sooooooooo, whatcha wanna listen to? I’ve got almost everything on here—besides the super niche, of course.” She pulled her data pad out, swiping to the massive music folder
“You wouldn’t like the kinda music I listen to; It’s ancient.”
She gave him a lighthearted, annoyed glare. “Welcome to the club… Now what’ll it be?”
“It’s Old Earth kind of ancient… but alright” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, lips pursed. “Do you have anything from Styx or Sweet?”
She stared at him incredulously, her smirk turning into a fully-fledged smile. “Oh my God. You are an absolute dork! You actually listen to Golden Age music?”
His brows raised, accusatory. “And you somehow know exactly who those bands were and what age of Old Earth music they came from?”
She smugly leaned in closer. “That’s because I’m just as much of a nerd with that kinda music as you apparently are.” She quickly looked upward, addressing the workshop AI. “Sebas, connect nearby speakers to my data pad’s audio.” Tracy elbowed the engineer lightly as the PA system chirped its affirmation. “Now, Mr. Golden Age music, which albums do ya want me to queue up?”
- - - - -
The two of them listened to music for hours, tossing on songs they liked as they came to mind while they worked. Harrison had a ton of recommendations that spanned all over the Golden Ages and some twenty-first century classics. She didn’t even know half of them, but she was vibing either way, adding on her own taste by intermingling some older rock tracks and newer electronic beats. The playlist was steadily built up as the day went on. Thank God her dad showed her a vast array of tunes; she might not have been able to keep up with the engineer if her old man hadn't.
It made the work go by so fast, their conversations blurring as they jumped from topic to topic. They discussed whatever came to mind—old hobbies, old jobs, and old interests. A lot was left behind in Sol… At least she knew that the only other human on the planet was more interesting than a soulless workaholic. It turned out that he was a pretty big history buff, and he apparently read a lot about the colonization of the Sol system and the various wars of independence thereafter. Curious, she asked where the interest stemmed from, and he explained that his grandfather was an admiral in the Slavic-Europan deep-ice submarine fleet, which explained how Harrison’s mother was able to afford to immigrate to Mars from Europa.
He could also play an acoustic guitar, and, unfortunately for Tracy, he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in printing one out, citing that it was a waste of time and material that would be better used elsewhere. That didn’t stop her from writing a note on her data pad to do so later, though. She hadn’t seen someone play one of those in years—the last time was probably in some old music video from the early twenty-second century. What a shame. She would have liked to hear some of the Europan songs his grandmother taught him.
On the bright side, the man seemed to take an interest in her odd hobbies. He brought up the folder of 3D models that she accidentally uploaded to the inter-module system and asked where she got the inspiration for what was in it. Boy, was he not ready for her ‘WarHalberd40k’ lore dump. Props to the guy for not standing up and leaving the workshop throughout her rambling. He even asked questions about the different factions and their weapons, which she was more than happy to talk about.
She also ended up going over the other franchises and hobbies she was interested in, such as robotics and the like. The only interruptions to their chat were the occasional Akula or Craftsman asking for insight regarding the various tasks he had allotted to them, or Shar coming in to check up on Harrison between guard shifts.
The new dynamic of the group was pretty interesting, to say the least. Tracy hadn’t been out to interact with the whole lot of Malkrin, but she definitely noticed how they treated the engineer. They’d started to look up to him in a way ever since he started showing off technology. In a little over two days, the man had shown them that he could provide the materials for a brick house, fine clothing—especially by the alien’s standards—armor, and delicious food. That wasn’t even mentioning the other benefits the technician heard a few of the ‘banished’ talking about over their meals: heating, electric lights, and other assorted machines.
She’d be feeling pretty happy about herself if she was in his position, having so many look up to him and be grateful at the same time. He seemed to view it a lot more robotically, however, only striving to get the basics done. Luckily for him, his basics were their luxury.
That wasn’t all there was to the topic; the engineer lamented about how the colony was going through food just as quickly as materials. The meals weren’t the direct issue he had, more that he had to start focusing on long-term resource harvesting rather than directly preparing for a literal horde of monsters—which wasn’t exactly ideal. It was a good thing that they just so happened to take on an influx of Malkrin then…
Either way, they finally finished the ‘totally legal modification’ for the fabricator, meaning they could at least partially address the latter half of his worries. The whole process of ripping out an old printer and replacing the parts for a new one felt a lot easier than she imagined… even if it took her at least forty-eight hours to complete it… with help from Harrison. Maybe that was why it felt so easy… She supposed the colony overseers didn’t choose the man for no reason, so his skills made sense.
“So… what do we want to print out first?” Tracy questioned, having finished testing the last major component.
The engineer stretched his arms up into the air and rotated his shoulders, then pulled back the desk’s chair and took a seat. “I’ve had just one thing in mind since the start of this whole project.”
Her brows raised in a mix of excitement and curiosity. She leaned forward, looking at the computer monitor from over his shoulder. “Oh? What’s that, then?”
A smirk formed along his cheek, the computer mouse rapidly clicking through the blueprint folder. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what kind of firearm we need since I started dabbling in belt-fed weapon systems.” He opened one final file, a short loading bar preceding the exploded assembly view of… “An M2 Browning machine gun. It’s more than powerful enough to kill in one shot, while also being capable of fully-automatic fire, with a capacity of however many rounds we want in a belt-box.”
“Uh…huh…” She gave a skeptical nod and took a step back, not exactly sold on the idea. “It looks ancient. It’s kinetic, right? Why aren’t we using energy-based weapons? Don’t we have a gunpowder shortage coming up?”
He moved his chair off to the side to look back at her. “We just can’t; Simple as. We’ll need who knows how many more AI cores before we can get started on that level of equipment, Trace,” he huffed, returning his gaze to the specifications of the firearm. “This isn’t the most ‘modern’ weapon we can make, but its twenty-first century counterpart helps with an improved design… somewhat. And, as I said before, it should be more than capable of killing a bug in one shot, so Shar can just tap-fire it to save ammunition.”
Her head tilted quizzically. “Shar?”
“Yup,” he returned confidently. “It’s the perfect weapon for her.”
She raised a brow. “How so?”
He held his hand up, counting his reasons on his fingers. “She’s always on the front line with a shield, she can absolutely handle the weight and recoil, her four arms make reloading it simple, plus she’ll need something with range and power that isn’t a spear. So, why not? And, if for some reason, she doesn’t want to use it, we can just convert it into a turret—which is something I was planning on doing anyways with however more M2s we print out later.”
“I doubt she’ll say no to any gun you give her,” Tracy chuckled while shaking her head, inadvertently causing her bangs to cover her eyes.
“Fair enough,” he conceded with a bob of his head. “What do you think, then? What kinda weapons do you have in mind?”
She reapplied her goggles into an impromptu hairband, feeling a smirk cross her face. “Thought you’d never ask. What purpose do we need these guns to fulfill? Hordes I’m guessing?”
“That’s the idea, yeah. That doesn’t mean they all need to be machine guns, though.” He tapped the belt-fed shotgun beside him.
“Well, lemme see what we’re working with first.” She suddenly stepped forward, leaning over Harrison’s seat to access the keyboard and mouse. Her arms briefly rubbed against him, forcing him to roll his chair backward. She suppressed a giggle at seeing his incredulous frown.
Her eyes quickly traced the hundreds of individual files, clicking through all sorts of folders, each arranged from pre-twenty-first century ‘antiques,’ to more modern iterations of kinetics and particle weaponry. There was… a lot on there—almost too much to reasonably comb through. Why? Did the colony overseers just say ‘fuck it’ and put whatever they could find on here? Were they expecting the pioneers to make a museum of everything?
She sighed, standing up straight and facing Harrison. “Y’know, I’m actually impressed you managed to find that M2-whatever in there…”
He shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the desk. “Yup, there’s a lot. I’m almost tempted to just make several of those machine guns and just call it a day, but I feel like that’d be too much of a strain on resources, no?”
“I don’t really know enough about how you fight those spider-crab things, or how to get more gunpowder, so… maybe?” She shrugged, biting her cheek in contemplation. “You might just wanna make a few smaller caliber weapons… like, uh… those old kinetic service rifles. If your pump-action shotgun works fine, I’m sure some normal guns would work just fine for now, right?”
He hardily gripped his firearm, hauling it up to his lap. “Depends on what you mean by ‘smaller caliber.’ The whole reason why the KS-23 here works—” he pulled out a massive shell from the ammo belt, displaying it on his palm. “—is because the twenty-three-millimeter round has enough energy transfer to mess up any bug's shell and insides. I’d say the smallest rounds we could use would be point-two-forty-three caliber to get any similar results.”
Brief flickers of grungy orange shells and gnashing teeth marred Tracy’s sight. She forcibly suppressed them, distracting herself with dry humor and a strained laugh. “Guess those fuckers can really take a punch, huh?”
He shook his head somberly. “I couldn’t imagine going up against them without a gun… Anyway, I like your idea of a standard rifle for now. Then, when we have some product lines up, we can go a little more in depth into personal weapons.”
“So are you gonna take one?” She hopped up on the desk, letting her legs swing off the side.
“Don’t think so, no. I’ll stick with my shotty.” The internals of the heavily modified weapon rattled as he held it up and inspected it. “Doesn’t mean I’ll keep it as is. I’m thinking of printing a laser aiming module so I can point-fire it accurately, and maybe a melee-oriented muzzle brake or a lighter chassis to reduce weight… Not sure though.”
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her cheeks in her palms. “Melee-oriented? Oooooh, like a chain-sword or something?”
His short chuckle coerced a smirk to her face. “No, not like that. More something to use as a bludgeoning tool. Right before the blood-moon, I ended up getting just as much use out of this shotgun as a hammer than as a… well, a shotgun.”
“That’s pretty fuckin’ metal. So are you just gonna make the barrel into a giant bayonet?”
He nodded. “Not exactly a bayonet, but something more like a door-breaching break.”
A short silence settled on their conversation, the faint sounds of the fabricator’s hum and distant woodwork coming to light. Right, there was an outside world… She’d been too caught up talking to Harrison for however many hours it had been. She wondered how successful the fisherwomen were in collecting, and how things had been for the others working on the wood storage shack. Maybe it was already completed? The sun peered through the cargo bay door, proving that it was only about midday. What else would they work on today?
“Hey,” she ventured.
“Hm?” the engineer hummed, his eyes focused on the monitor beside the technician.
She scooted closer to his keyboard. “What’re we doing after this?”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned backward, propping herself up on two hands. “Project wise; what’s the next big thing?”
“Uhmmm…” he muttered, interacting with the computer for a few more seconds before finally meeting her gaze. “Well, I’ve just allocated the fabricator to print out the M2, three FALs—wood furniture, of course—then there’s the magazines and ammunition, so we’ve got a lot of time to kill. The next big thing is definitely going to be metal procurement, and— Oh, right!” Harrison stopped mid-sentence, reaching into his backpack and pulling out several finger-sized metallic cubes, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Okay, so a while ago, during an encounter with three colossi, Shar and Akula found a cave with some ‘surface’ metal deposits. I took a piece off to analyze, but never got the chance to until last night. Anyway, we don’t have any machines to examine the ore, so I made use of the recycler and broke it down to its baser components.”
She nodded along, seeing where he was going with his explanation. “I’m guessing those shiny cubes are the metals from the ore?”
“Sure is. So, as it turns out, we have a pretty damn close supply of not only iron, but also, zinc, sulfur, and a small amount of cadmium. I talked with Sebas about it and did a little research. We believe it’s something akin to sphalerite, given its composition and looks, which implies it’s a sedimentary exhalative deposit. That means there must have been some volcanic…”
Harrison continued talking about underwater deposits and ancient rock formations, bringing up some theories brought forward by the now 4-AI-core-powered Sebas, delving into the current land mass’ history and possible ore output. A lot of it went over the tradewoman’s head, but she still listened intently… Honestly, she could have listened to the man talk about finding metals for hours. It was sort of like the podcasts she used to listen to while completing colonist training, but even more personal and somehow easier to get lost in…
“…find some other minerals further down like silver, but it also might be an active lava zone. Again, these are all theories and this world could just throw the fundamentals of geology away as it does for physics. Anyway, sorry for going on for so long about that, just thought it’d be important for getting some metals in the future.”
“No, no,” Tracy assured, alleviating him of concern with a wave of her hand. “If there’s anything the colony overseers emphasized, it was farming and mineral acquisition. Don’t worry.” She smiled, pointing a thumb to herself. “I just wanna know how I can help.”
“Actually, I’ve a few things only you can do. I’d like to make use of your impressive drone-making expertise for a few applications, if you don’t mind.”
The task of keeping eye contact slipped into an impossible feat in the span of a singular second, planting a pang of embarrassment on her reddened face, forcing her to inspect her fidgeting hands. “I-I wouldn’t say ‘impressive’… b-but what do you have in mind?”
She could see him raise a brow out of the corner of her vision. “Well, after what you’ve shown me with the reconnaissance flyers, I’d like your help in setting up a more permanent ‘net’ of them to scour the meadow and parts of the nearby forest to look out for any approaching hordes. I don’t want to be snuck up on… again…”
‘Again.’
She noted his small frown and sunken eyes, both a little more exaggerated than they already were. It wasn’t like she’d deny his request, but the pangs of empathy over their shared situation all but solidified her resolve. It was the least she could do. She could help him. She would help him.
The technician exhaled slowly, taking on a more serious and understanding tone than before. “I… can do that. For sure. What else?”
“I appreciate it.” He gave a wane smile. “I’ll help you with whatever you need for the project. For the other drones, I’m thinking about a small exploration vehicle to map out caves around us and mark any minerals, as well as a submersible to look for potassium deposits in the ocean.”
“So… search bots?” She crossed her arms, confidence growing; those were her specialty. “Depending on how long the fabricators take and what kind of base drones are in the blueprint folders, I should be able to get those done in no time. All I need to know are the search cues for potassium and how many drones you want.”
He quickly shuffled a few folders on the computer, turning the monitor for her to see some scientific documents with various images and walls upon walls of text. “There’re plenty of resources for that on here for what to look for, and there’s always Sebas, so feel free to ask him since he can just sort through the data for you anyway. If you can, I’d like it if you could focus on the submersible after the reconnaissance drones.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be right on it, then.” She gave him a thumbs up, slipping off his desk and toward her own.
“I’ll bring you lunch in a bit. Imma go check on the others,” he called.
Her stomach grumbled at the mention, her head turning to give him an appreciative smile. “Oh! Thanks!”
\= = = = =
Avian creatures chirped from their perches in the trees nearby. The wind softly rustled red leaves as grass gently gave way to calculated footfalls. A warm sun laid its light on Shar’khee’s neck. It was surprisingly pleasant, were one to take the time to notice. The mainland was a confusing place for the paladin, with its disparate representations of nature contrasting so heavily. Some days were filled with blood and ravenous beasts, while others were left within the domain of simplicity and beauty. She was content to have the latter, yet it felt like a facade veiling the former—a soft exterior covering the maliciously spiked interior. Never could she leave herself to carelessness, no matter how welcoming it might be.
Hence why she worked to ensure the safety of the star-sent’s castles and their inhabitants, her days largely spent patrolling for any roaming swarms that may wish to cause them harm. She typically used the routine to think, but today offered little in the way of solitude. This time, she was accompanied by the previously banished guardswoman, and was tasked with instructing the new one, though the specifics of what such lessons should entail were vague. Still, Shar’khee did all that she could so as not to disappoint Harrison, so she could only attempt to meet his expectations of her.
She told the yellow-skinned female of the threats that the settlement faced, how one was to defeat them, and what to expect from the beasts. The guardswoman was directed to practice her form with the spear in both thrusts and throwing for some time afterward, proving herself to be well-built. Such was expected of her profession after all.
It was pleasing to have another capable of patrolling the settlement’s outskirts for swarms, as it would greatly impact how effectively the colony could react to such a threat. If her routine was to suffer for the colony’s well-being, she was happy to show the new one her patrol route and note what to look out for.
The guardswoman was not a perfect student, however. Shar’khee never addressed it directly, but the yellow-skinned female obviously discredited the danger posed by the abhorrent, not-so-subtly shrugging off any warnings.
…That was until they stumbled upon the ‘hyena-boars,’ as Harrison called them.
The beasts resided in a clearing not too far from the castles, carelessly meandering across the sea of tall grass. Shar’khee quickly crouched, dragging the guardswoman down with her. Once she assessed that the creatures were not an imminent danger, she decided it would be an excellent opportunity to show the new one how to properly engage a threat. She was about to propose the idea, yet her speech was silenced just as swiftly.
Orange flashes darted through the trees around the glade. Taloned feet and gnashing teeth tore across the ground toward the unsuspecting beasts at the center. It was much too late for them. They were slow. Surrounded. Unaware. It was as quick as it was vicious, the forest’s reds turning a deeper crimson hue in a moment's notice underneath the abhorrent’s brutality.
Gangly monstrosities gnawed and ripped at the dead creatures, brief glimpses of raw flesh and white bone protruding from the small spaces between the clumped-up beasts. Repulsive wet splatters of blood and gore overlapped the calm noises of the forest, the grisly scene serenaded by the softest of nature’s symphonies. It was a sickening juxtaposition.
Shar’khee bit back the unease and steeled herself. They were within twenty paces—close enough to smell the abhorrent’s vile stench of rot and bile, yet far enough so as not to be noticed. She briefly considered backing away and retreating, her focus bouncing between the different avenues of escape, or how to cover her footst—
Crack.
Several sets of feral, eyeless maws snapped in their direction, the blood dripping off freshly dampened teeth. The guardswoman gasped, Shar’khee’s gaze following to see the mistake: a singular broken branch crinkled as a yellow-colored foot raised off the splintering twig.
The paladin exhaled sharply and smoothly stood up, brandishing two spears and her shield. Her glare settled on the still crouching guardswoman. “You are to stay behind my shield and let them appr—ch. Rem—ber what I have told you. Aim for their maws when you thrust y—r lance.”
The other female nodded, shakily pulling out her own weapons with unsteady placement hampering her grip. There was an obvious nervousness to her gaze. Hesitance. That would not do.
Shar’khee faced the prowling abhorrent her knuckles shifting hue as she prepared for their advance, for there was no chance that they wouldn’t. True to her experience, the stalking turned to a gallop with several clicks of grotesque tongues, the swarm bolting toward her as one. She snarled and slammed her bulwark into the ground, letting the approaching beasts skewer themselves amongst its spikes.
There were only ten—a paltry amount. She had defended against magnitudes more, and yet she still stood. What is more, they were mindless. Uncoordinated. They would be but stains in the cloth she used to clean her armor. Perhaps, if they were fortunate, they might leave a furrow in her shield to remember them by. Her arms tensed as the first leapt.
One by one, the abhorrent fell, their repulsive green blood splattering under her thrusts. Each awaiting corpse tore across the grove’s grass, lunging to their deaths with gaping maws and unfeeling hunger, yet she did not yield. Their shells were crushed by her shield and impaled by her Goddess-blessed spears, becoming but one more smear across their surface. Ten motionless lumps lay before her, seeping their ichor into the soil, none having passed the barrier she became. Dead, just as the Creator intended. She remained vigilant for a few moments longer, watching for any more of the disgusting creatures.
None showed themselves, finally allowing blood to flow to her fingers once again. The shield’s heavy presence weighed down her back, the blood flicked off of her spears before she returned them to their place.
“Are y–u well?” Shar’khee addressed the frozen Malkrin, wiping away the splatter on her bracers. The guardswoman stared at the small pile of deceased creatures, her heavy breaths and widened eyes moving from the spear from her singular kill. The paladin huffed. “We are fort—ate that there were so few.”
“F-Few? God help us…” Her horrified, stunned gaze slowly met the paladin’s. “Y-You said there were hundreds on the crimson nights? H-How do you… They were s-so fast.”*
”As I h–ve warned,” Shar’khee affirmed.
“You are a paladin! You all exaggerate your feats… I thought it was just a facade!”
“I have no r—son to lie,” she returned tersely, shrugging off the insult to her station and shaking her head. “The mainl—d is far more dangerous than ten gnash—g beasts; more so than that of your island hamlet. Pick yourself up. We m—t inform the others of this incursion.”
The yellow-skinned female snarled, furrowing her brows at the ground in frustration. At whom…? Shar’khee? Herself? Regardless, the female promptly gathered her composure, pushing air through clenched jaws. A step forward had her feet splash in the small pool of blood, the Malkrin nodding toward the paladin to continue back to the castles.
“…for the village.”
Shar’khee paused in her stride and faced her, frowning at the determination and anger leaking through the intent. “W—t was that?”
Her question was returned with honesty, a huffed voice marred by vexation. “Paladin, how am I to defend my village-mates as I am now?”
“‘As you are now?’ What do you m—n?”
The guardswoman stared down at her spear, wood creaking under her grip. “I have faltered before what you deem a paltry threat, and the thought of an even greater one sows dread deep within my bones. I wish… I wish to be better prepared to defend those of my village. I cannot help but see their faces on those of the furred creature in the clearing, and yet, even if I am so close, I am just as unable to protect them.”
Shar’khee stared down the yellow female, a long gaze taking in a rare showing of sincerity. “Y—r fears are one we all share, new one. Do not be ashamed of them. All t—t matters is that you do not let them rem—n mere fear, but make them your strength. So tell me, do you wish to impr—e? To ensure they do not fall while you are support—g them?”
The yellow-skinned female released a shuddering breath that bled off the worst of her indecision, a newly invoked flame flaring within her visage. “I do, paladin. I seek to protect and to be of use.”
“Then, if you wish to make y—rself resilient in the face of all that opposes us, it would be my undertak—g to forge you anew. Fortunately, Harrison has ordered such already, and his guidance shall prove ever useful, should you pursue it.”
The guardswoman shuffled in place at the star-sent’s mention, her eyes slipping downwards. “He is of a great many resources, but I would rather receive your teachings than those of a craftsman… or that of a male, deity-sent he might be.”
She placed a palm on the female’s shoulder. “He is far more than you might ever k—w. Regardless of if you ac—pt his guidance, I commend your conviction. However—” Her hand gripped tighter, though not enough to instill hostility. “—understand that you are protecting more than just your vi—age-mates.”
The new one nodded, staring up at the paladin with stallwart resolve. “Of course. I shall be in your tutelage, then.”
Shar’khee smiled. “T—n let us begin.”
\= = = = =
Akula was becoming increasingly certain that she knew how her parents once felt. The green-skinned fisherwoman was currently rotating between the many tasks placed upon her, guiding the newcomers through the minutia of their tasks so they might live up to the potential Harrison saw within them. She was gratified to have her own talents recognized by the Creator, but it also placed a great many responsibilities in her talons. Of course, she handled each new addition with finesse befitting her heritage, never once balking from the increasing demands. If anything, she felt validated; it was required of her as a female anyway, was it not? The more feminine-appropriate labor and management one undertakes, the higher authority they were granted.
It began with a simple assignment to oversee the chef’s introduction to the star-sent’s provided cooking appliances. As fascinating and convenient as utilities were, she held no interest in preparing any more food than she already had, but teaching another to operate the machines would alleviate such requirements of her. She reluctantly accepted the task when it was proposed, especially considering the fact that Harrison was much too busy with his other projects to bother with something as benign as cooking. His work was more valuable elsewhere.
The task itself went well, and the pink-skinned chef was quick to pick up on the use of the various kitchen devices, as well as the smoker. A grin had grown when she considered the possibility of all males understanding such domestic things readily, yet her mirth at removing the masculine job required of her was short-lived. Despite the newly initiated Malkrin’s success, Harrison had Akula frequently return to oversee the numerous cooking operations being conducted. That was in tandem with the back-to-back fishing trips made by both herself and the newly acquired females.
…Which was something else the green-skinned cycle-worshipper was ordered to oversee.
She had left the chef to his devices after producing another batch of partially seasoned meals, returning to the Creator with hopes of a break. He applauded her efforts with a nod and tersely spoken appreciation, then quickly pushed two spearguns into her hand and directed her to the ocean, where the twins were ‘working with jack shit,’ as the busy male said. She was to give the fisherwomen the tools and make sure they were used properly, and offer additional assistance in acquiring ‘enough fish to have us fed for a little bit.’
So, she left to complete the given task, feeling somewhat appreciative that her speargun was of superior quality to those she would be delivering—the newcomers were only afforded the lesser, roped-bolt version. It was only natural that she was in possession of their greatest assets, of course; the star-sent saw her as the only one capable of wielding such fantastic ammunition, showing trust that was rightfully placed in her. That did not mean the gray-skinned females were unsatisfied with their own gifts, however. The twins were swiftly caught up on the ‘manual of arms’ and sent to work, somehow managing to keep up with Akula in spite of their land-based origins. The two were fast enough to outpace the cycle-worshipper in sheer speed, but their lack of numerous winters spent traversing deeper waters meant they required frequent rests, breaking the ocean’s surface after every third captured fish or so.
Still, she had to appreciate their dedication to their task. They never complained about Akula pushing them further to reach the star-sent’s vague objective. Such a task was entrusted to her—and by proxy, the other two—and thus it would be completed, no matter how much her comfortable bed… couch called her tiring muscles.
The group of three hauled net after full net of fresh meat to the chef—and sewist, who later joined him—forcing him to relegate much of the catch to long-term storage as the kitchen simply could not deal with the surplus. At least three-quarters of the fish were put to slow cook in the now Malkrin-sized smoker. The craftsman had upgraded it with a kit provided by Harrison, who had recycled much of the dining room and workshop furniture to accommodate it. The Creator’s showcased urgency to gather materials was clearly not unfounded… It was admirable how he used what little he had left to ensure food would not be scarce. Additionally, the apparatus exuded an excellent scent for all the survivors to enjoy, the earthy aroma drawing in some of the other Malkrin for their breaks or meals.
Those were not the end of the cycle-worshiper’s tasks, however. She was also required to report on Shar’khee’s progress in training the guardswoman—helping to recycle the small swarm of abhorrent they cleared earlier—as well as the wood storage building’s progress. Indeed, she was advising and assisting however and wherever applicable. To say she was seen all around the settlement would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, she was appreciative to see her efforts bearing fruit by sundown. The processing of their meals from sea to plate was quite efficient, and those that Akula taught were now well-practiced in their duties. The twin fisherwomen dove from wave to wave, bringing fish back to the barracks, where the cook and sewist swiftly worked to transfer the meat to pans and smoker hooks alike. Then, the remnants of the Sea Goddess’ aquatic gifts would be subsequently recycled and given purpose anew as biofuel or perhaps future fertilizer.
The endless onslaught of duties and responsibilities had enlightened her, in a way. She could see where Harrison came from now; having a working project go from one point to another without input nor difficulty was a sight to behold, and it made her swell with pride. It was a surmountable feat to teach the barbaric ground-worshippers to do something properly.
…Well, they were not horrible Malkrin, so perhaps simply calling them ‘uninitiated’ was a more apt descriptor…
No matter the tribulations faced, and no matter how draining her new authority might be, her rest at the end of the day would be one that was well-earned, and it would be had with a sense of satisfaction. She deserved it, and perhaps that extended to the rest of the settlement as well.
- - - - -
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Mine! Mine! Mine!

Buster growled softly, baring his teeth at me as he stood in defiance. His stance rigid and unyielding, his tail stiff, and ears pinned back - he watched my every move with alert eyes.
My 3-year-old German shepherd had intuitively figured out the prospect of an upcoming bath when he saw me reach for the towel, and decided to give me a hard time over it.
“I know buddy. I am not happy about it either. But I will make it quick. I promise,” I tried to reason, holding up both hands to reassure him.
‘But it’s not even been a week…’ I could almost imagine him saying those exact words to me when he growled back in protest.
“You’re right...But listen, man. You’re dirty. I can feel your presence from here,” I said, standing ten feet away and pretending to cover my nostrils with my finger.
Buster, of course, didn’t care and continued to defy without hesitation.
I put my hands on my hip and sighed. My glance immediately shifted to a hose attached to a tap outside my quarters.
“Tell you what. I’ll make it worth your while. You don’t mind the jet spray, right? In fact, you even tolerate it sometimes,” I said, pointing to the hose located only a few feet away.
“How about a little cooperation now, and I’ll make you your favorite meal a little later?” I asked him, while reaching out to pick a can of chicken liver from the kitchen.
As I dangled the can in my hand, I could see it slowly chipping away at his resolve, his mind grappling with the pros and cons of my new proposal.
A moment later, Buster barked at me twice and slowly made his way out of the house. He sat by the garden tap, ready to receive his bath.
I took a handful of lotion and began to rub it against his torso to remove all the muck and grime that was sticking to his body. We had been quite busy lately, guarding the base and conducting multiple patrols along the perimeter every day. The rain a few hours ago certainly didn't help matters, with Buster leaping over puddles of water and actively rolling in the mud to escape the desert heat. I had to use a brush to remove the layers of dirt that had caked all over his body.
It’s been a strange week, to say the least. The days were busy but peaceful, while the nights brought scattered, random sounds. Their origins were a mystery, as they appeared not to originate from the base. But I wasn’t too worried about it, not yet anyway.
There is an air base located a couple of hours away from the facility, and it wasn’t unusual for them to conduct sorties at odd hours in the night. I assumed they were probably testing out some new technology.
My colleague Joe thought the same thing as well. But we couldn’t take any chances, and we both had a job to do. So we conducted regular patrols around the base just as a precautionary measure.
But deep down, I felt something nagging at me, like I was being watched by someone or something. I couldn’t exactly put it into words.
For a second, I wondered if Buster too felt the same way when I saw him suddenly lift his head up, listening intently with his ears up in attention.
I quickly turned back to check if there was anybody standing behind me, but I found no one. When I turned around to face him again, I saw him looking up at the night sky, his gaze focused and unwavering.
“What’s it buddy? You see something?” I asked him as I cleared away the foam from his face. Moments went by slowly. And then, just like that, as if nothing had happened, he put his head down and began pawing my leg, urging me to finish his bath. I sighed again and turned on the hose, to wash off all the soap.
He finally looked presentable and I have to admit, his coat glistened beautifully under the moonlight.
Before I could reach for his towel, Buster swiftly moved in to close the gap between us and looked me in the eye dead serious. He then shook his body vigorously, much like a wet dog trying to rid itself of wetness, and trotted off without bothering to look back.
I laughed out loud as I sat there, drenched in water. I knew I should have seen that coming. However, my smile quickly faded, as it also reminded me of Jessica, my ailing wife.
Before another thought could take shape in my mind, I heard a familiar voice blare across the radio.
“Mike, I need you down here. Get to the post quick.”
It was my colleague Joe and I replied back in the affirmative. I quickly grabbed my gear and signaled Buster to follow after me.
When I reached the post, I saw Joe standing there armed with his rifle. As a seasoned war veteran with two tours under his belt, Joe was a dangerous man and not to be trifled with. But he was also compassionate and wise beyond his years.
“What’s up Joe?” I inquired, as I approached him near the entrance of the base.
“I am not sure yet. I thought I heard something at a distance. It could well be nothing.” he replied, after a brief pause.
‘Well, we’ve had a lot of that going around all week’, I thought to myself.
He then turned around to look at me. “I want you to run a perimeter sweep first. Then go on patrol again. Take Buster with you” he said, before heading back to his post.
I started the jeep and drove out towards the perimeter. The engine hummed softly as I navigated the rough terrain, with Buster sitting alertly beside me. After finding nothing suspicious during my initial sweep, I decided to broaden my search radius.
A mile into the drive, Buster suddenly started barking, prompting me to stop the jeep immediately. He leaped onto the ground and dashed towards a boulder located a short distance away. I picked up my rifle and cautiously followed after him.
When I reached the spot, I keyed the mic attached to my shirt and said, "Boss, you need to come see this."
I knew he wasn’t going to be happy about leaving the guard post unmanned, but I thought he would prefer to come and inspect this himself.
Joe arrived ten minutes later, parking his vehicle next to mine. He walked towards the boulder overlooking a small pond, and switched on his torch to get a better look at the skeletal remains of an animal dumped nearby. Three other animal remains lay next to it, all appearing to be in a similar condition.
“These look like coyotes, probably stopping by to drink water from the pond before they were killed,” he observed, his voice expressing concern. “Did you find them like this?”
“Yes”, I replied. “And they weren’t here when I drove through the same place this morning. I thought it was quite odd to be honest, to find four of them out here all at once in the middle of the desert, that too at this hour.”
Joe simply nodded in agreement.
“What sort of creature do you think did this Joe?”
“I mean it must have a ravenous appetite to chew every sinew of flesh from the bone, and lick it this clean.” I said, leaning in take another look.
“Do you think it could be the Chupacabra or something similar?” I continued, knowing fully well my question was a bit far-fetched, but I had to still get it off my chest.
Joe finally stood up, switched off his torch, and looked around the vast open desert in quiet contemplation.
“This is in fact the fifth sighting in less than a week, Mike, and all have occurred in close proximity to secure government installations. The one before this was even stranger, and happened near a military base, where an old buddy of mine continues to serve.”
“He told me in that instance, the remains belonged to a dog. There were no signs of flesh or connecting tissue from the nasal region to the abdominal section, while the region spanning from the abdominal cavity to the tail bone was left fully intact. The whole thing was carried out with surgical precision, and drew morbid praise from even the medic back at the base.”
"But how is that even possible? What are you suggesting, Joe?" I asked, surprised by the tone of my own voice and my inability to hide my disappointment upon hearing about it for the first time.
“This is not a hunt for prey, Mike. This is a hunt for attention. Somebody is trying to make a point. And I’d say they are accomplishing their objective.” Joe said.

Just got back from Vietnam - North to South tour over a couple of weeks around my partner's birthday. Absolutely loved the experience and would love to visit again and slow down the travel to take things in a bit more.
I have some tips for folk from my own experience. I'm from the UK - and specifically Cornwall where tourism is a mainstay of our local economy and I know what it's like to have your land flooded with tourists.
1: the pound is roughly 30000 Vietnamese dong, so divide by 3 and knock off some noughts. It's easier to knock off the last three 0s from the dong price first. Very important for weighing up the personal value of something you might buy/are being hassled to buy.
2: Security at airports is not like our biometric passport scanners in the UK - it's guys in very officious looking uniforms taking their sweet time to weigh up whether you should be let in (or out) of the country. Bear this in mind for planning follow up transport or arriving for a flight. Huge queues. It took about an hour after arriving to get through security, and an hour and a half when departing for our UK flight (important as they were shutting the doors by the time we got through security).
3 phone data - while queuing to get into the country in Ho Chi Minh, we opted to buy some local SIM cards from a stall next to the queues. They were £8 each and gave us unlimited data for our 2 weeks. Ideal. Might be able to get it cheaper but convenience after 20 hours of travelling was worth it. EDIT - thanks to u/phantasizer for pointing out these stalls aren't legit. Our experiences were the sim cards worked fine but see their comment below.
4 airport transfers - take advantage of these where offered. Again, just takes the stress out of things as we found the country quite overwhelming, especially HCMC and Hanoi (overwhelming in a good way though).
5 city markets - we went to Hanoi, Cat Ba, Hoi An, Phú Quoc and Saigon and in each place there was a sizeable (Cat Ba was smaller) market advertised as a "must see" experience but in truth is the same place selling knock off clothes, luggage, souvenirs, food ingredients, etc. Every fourth or fifth stall is EXACTLY the same stuff. It gets boring after 10 minutes. Would advise visiting this wherever you are on your last day to buy some stuff to take home rather than lugging it around.
6 scooters - I wouldn't consider this unless you know how to ride a scooter, especially in the cities. Vietnamese traffic is an organic wonder to beyond from the safety of a taxi.
7 crossing the road - for UK folk, they drive on the other side in Vietnam. Very important to look both ways but believe the hype, pick your moment and go confidently - Vietnamese also have incredible spacial awareness to avoid you.
8 GRAB - download the app, add your card and Grab away. Again, speaking of convenience and least stress, you will quickly appreciate not walking for 20 minutes in +30° city heat and choosing to take an air conditioned taxi. For comparison, a trip that would cost about a tenner in UK costs a £1. Incredible value for your wallet, comfort and time.
9 food - try everything. OK, maybe Thit Cho on Hanoi is a stretch too far for the average Brit but everything else should be experienced. Personal favourites were Hotpot (so wish we had similar in UK) and BBQ where it's in the middle of the table and you do all the grilling. You can find Pho for equivalent of about £1 if you need shoestring food.
10 wine - some places sell local Dalat wine which is OK but wine is not a big deal in Vietnam and is usually at least UK price if not more. My partner found this hard as she doesn't like beer and didn't want to drink cocktails all holiday. Dalat is perfectly good plonk though - white and red.
11 Hoi An - don't believe the hype. We spent too long here (so sorry Saigon, you weren't as loved as you should have been). It can be done in a day and you've experienced it all. Reviews were lead to believe there was more to it. Nightlife was a laugh in a trashy way though if you want to do the whole Brits abroad thing.
12 Be respectful - my experience was that Vietnamese are a country of grinders who work all hours of the day. So speaking of Brits (or anyone else) abroad be respectful that not everyone you see is there for your photo opp or to help you and those in markets and hospitality are making a living, so don't waste their time. British especially are a nation of window shoppers and I'm not sure that came across too well on our travels. Try to be low key while you weave around the lives of Viet folk.
13 Learn to confidently say "no thanks" - politely saying "no thanks, just looking" and moving on is a valuable tool for getting through certain touristy areas. Engaging with folk will both give that person the wrong expectations and exhaust you in the process.
14 Google Translate - download this and use for basic enquiries. I don't think I was saying Xin Chao, Cam On or Tam Biet properly, so for anything beyond that, I have no clue. Don't assume people speak English - some are good enough to say Hello first to get past that.
15 Find a spot and just watch - find a coffee shop, relax and watch a very different people go about their lives. Things I enjoyed: how cool all the young people are; how obsessed the young folk are about selfies; care of children; karaoke round the dinner table (understand not to everyone's taste); friends enjoying a hotpot; lads fighting a crab into said hotpot; groups of friends having animated toasts after work; care of old folk; many and varied ways to use a scooter to carry people, goods, materials, flat screen TVs, dogs.
16 Beers in order of my personal taste - Saigon Red; Larue; Saigon Special; Hanoi; 333
17 Beer St in Saigon - go walk through it. I have never seen anything like it. Don't necessarily stop there but go observe it's wild, perverse nature.
18 If staying in a hotel, before you head out for the day, soak a flannel in water, put it in a glass, put the glass in the fridge. You will appreciate it when you get back from your enevitablely roasting walk around town (mad dogs and Englishman..).
19 pack for very hot weather (in May at least). I took a set of clothes for UK - these were worn to and from the airport and otherwise lived at the bottom on my bag. Otherwise, shorts, t-shirts and light shirts to keep the sun off. Even cotton t-shirts felt too much at times. My favourite items were a matched black linen shirt and shorts I bought out there. Pretty much lived out of them exclusively towards the end of the trip. Must have announced my musky presence from a great distance. Utilise the laundry services for sure.
20 ignore the rubbish - try to tune it out and adjust your hygiene expectations. This is important as in two weeks, I got blisters, bites, at anything and yet came away without food poisoning, infection or anything else. It's an eyesore at times to these soft UK eyes but don't let it ruin the trip. Hope Vietnam authorities can do more to handle that as it'll mount up the more the country is discovered.
Sure there's more but just offloading after getting back. Hope it helps.
EDIT: More to add

1. Cash is king but card is accepted - in the UK, because of COVID, cash has definitely taken a back seat to contactless payment. I've rarely had to use cash other than to pay for things off FB marketplace. Vietnam isn't like that, despite being at least as technologically advanced as the UK in certain respects. Always have some dong on you. Few hundred thousand covers small purchases like water, Bahn Mi for the road, restorative coffee, etc. A lot of places do accept card but can come with a 3% fee. And get ready as they take the card and put it into the machine - it's not a scam (at least, I don't think it is) just how it's done. The card machine is handed to you for pin and then half the time they need a signature on the receipt. Monzo is a good bank for travelling as you get free ATM withdrawals on their side up to £100 and you can instantly see the conversion of the latest transactions.
   
2. Ice cubes - when I got my travel vaccines, I was told to be wary of ice as much as tap water. From experience, iced coffee from most coffee shops has been fine (thankful in the heat) and cocktails with ice also fine. I'd maybe avoid the street side iced drinks and stick to modern looking bars, coffee shops and hotels to be on the safe side.
   
3. Geckos - you may see geckos in hotel rooms and elsewhere. Fear not, they are harmless and like to feast on mosquitos. As with any wild animal though - and includes all the cute looking street dogs - observe from a distance. We shared our cabin in Phu Quoc with a foot long Tokay Gecko which absolutely freaked us out for an evening until the manager told us it's fine and just to leave it be and it'll keep it's distance. Definitely the coolest wild creature I saw.
   
4. Overnight train to Da Nang - if you want to traverse the length of the country and save some time, get the Night Train to Da Naaaang (cue: Madness). Pay the extra for your own cabin. It's relatively comfortable and the next day you can while away the morning watching the mountains and coast roll by. You get complimentary snacks, drinks and a simple breakfast as well.
   
5. Cat Ba Express - originally, we planned to make our own way to Cat Ba by taxi>train,>ferry>taxi. At last minute, I scrapped that off of a recommendation on here and went with a company called Cat Ba Express. For £20 each, we got a return - hotel-to-hotel on an air conditioned bus and on the way back took up the option of a cable car over the water from Cat Ba to Haiphong. Well worth it, again for convenience and time.
   
6. Safety - prompted by u/G_saxboi comment below, while we both felt safe for the majority of the trip, do use common sense when out and about. If you need to get your bearings, find a coffee shop, have a sit down and a drink, and check then - being glued to your phone while walking around isn't the best advice in most touristy parts of the world.
   

Regarding Beer St in Saigon - you can walk through albeit hassled to come for a drink but enter any of those establishments at your own risk.
Also, generally good advice not to engage with anyone who randomly comes up to you. Just say "no thanks" and move on.

More misery bird? More misery bird. Really miserymaxxing with these fics I have going, but hey, this one is not that miserable actually! Krekos is back and ready to be dense and downcast, but maybe not quite miserable? Read and see!
Big thank you to NoP community for being great and supportive of my endeavors!
Also, obviously, big thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and allowing fanfiction well to flow free!
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Memory transcription subject: Krekos, Krakotl Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: May 6th, 2137
I stare at the foul creature before me. Normally staring at something directly head on like that would be too predatory for me to do, but after nearly dying of bread yesterday, I didn’t feel patient enough to be gentle. The creature stared right back, though in a much more natural, prey-like way, tilting its head slightly as it looked back at me with one eye and let out a long bwok.
“Are you doing this now? Really?”, I ask, knowing full well it cannot respond.
Well, it can, if another bwok it made is any indication. Of course, translators aren’t yet advanced enough to translate non-sapient speech, but the intention behind sound is intuitively clear. It’s telling me to back off. Well, I tried the diplomatic approach at least.
Raising my wing I begin sliding the bird out of its nest, careful to keep any delicate joints out of its reach. It started clucking in upset indignation, struggling back and even trying to peck at me, but after realizing that I will not relent, it hopped out of the box and rushed out of the cattle house, revealing a single dead egg in the nesting box.
With relief, I finally pick up the last egg and head back to leave them at the house. Turns out that while Reginald didn’t forget to both lock them up yesterday and let them out today, he did neglect feeding them both times, as well as collecting the harvest. So when I was driven back here in early morning, the first thing I did was making sure they were taken care of. I can’t say the horrid birds looked in any way hungry, but the moment I poured the feeding grain for them, they attacked it with more viciousness than I’d expect of an actual predator. And yet only thirteen were present at the feeding, as the one that’s usually the target of flock’s ire remained in the cattle house yet again, Reginald leaving it to it, being unaware of its undesirable habit of trying to hatch dead eggs.
With eggs delivered, I flew my way to my usual spot atop the cattle house and could finally relax. The loner beast first made its way to feast on the scraps of the grain that other birds already all have had their fill of, so I wasn’t too concerned. Instead I tried to reflect on the morning I had so far.
Waking up at the hospital did make me momentarily panic before I remembered the precluding events. Not that I could properly panic, feeling the most starved I’ve been my whole life, and too weak to try flying out of the window. Thankfully, the breakfast they provided was actually well made with krakotl needs in mind, algae soup alongside a few slices of bread, this time without any horrid human ideas like putting eggs in there. Eggs! Turns out they put eggs in some kinds of bread! That’s how I got sick! Eggs! The thought of what I consumed even now made me queasy, and it definitely made breakfast a much less appetizing affair than it would have been without that knowledge, but back then the hunger won over the disgust.
Lena did keep her promise and came to pick me up extra early. Her being a staff member at the hospital gave her some extra privilege, I assume, hence why I was released without any forms needing to be filled out personally. She did have important business today too, which probably explained the earlyness and urgency of her driving me back to her house.
That did not mean I escaped her ire, however. While I couldn’t pinpoint anything to identify the man, as Bob was apparently a common name, that offered me bread, we did come to understanding that he was likely either unaware of the nutritional contents of it, or of extent to which the Cure-induced allergy would be affecting a krakotl. Yet, Lena seemed much angrier at me for failing to take any precautions. Turns out that was the purpose of medicinal injectors, epipens as humans call them, that were provided to me. I was supposed to have them on me in case I accidentally ingested contaminated food. Nobody told me that, I was just handed them back when I first received the necessities at the refugee camp and I had no clue what they were for. Then she also berated me for eating random food from strangers and ignoring bad flavors. Turns out that brioche bread isn’t actually bitter at all, and that was my body reacting to an allergen in it. Reaction that I unwisely elected to ignore, to further ire of my host. By the end, several new rules of my stay here were made, including not eating things I don’t know and always having at least one epipen on me. Thankfully, these rules would be ones I’d start following even without them being established, so I won’t have to concern myself with being kicked out over accidentally breaking them.
As if following the rules will be enough to make them like you.
Trying to distract myself from thoughts of yesterday’s incident, I focused my attention on the flock. All birds accounted for, so at least I knew that my absence did not result in the predator coming to snatch one of them. I do not wish to insult my hosts, but Reginald is far from most attentive people in matters unrelated to his job, and I am not sure the birds were watched at all while I was out. Speaking of, my scannings of surrounding treelines revealed no sign of the predator today. Perhaps it departed to hunt elsewhere, or maybe it ventured too close to a more populated area and exterminators dealt with it.
Actually, did human exterminators work similar to Federation ones? I knew for a fact they had them, although they seemed like a market of private organizations if advertisements are anything to judge by. Still, what methods do they use? I know humans oppose fire, and do not believe in predatory taint, but surely they have measures to protect themselves? They are, by self-admission, far from the best natural predator, and I doubt Earth’s non-sapient predators would just leave humans be. Maybe I should call one of those human exterminator agencies and call them in to deal with that predator? I haven’t told Lena or Reginald about it, as I didn’t want to bother them, but it could pose a serious threat to the cattle, but maybe that’s the way I could resolve it without involving them?
I have not done nearly as much research into human culture and lifestyle as I should have, considering that I’ve lived on Earth for over half a year now, but the sheer width of the topic always overwhelmed me the moment I opened internet search app to the point where I just closed it right away.
And you expect to start studying again with that attitude? You’ll flunk out even from this primitive predator education course.
Extra loud call from the flock made me refocus my attention on them, but it was nothing. Just the loner getting pecked extra hard and lashing out against assailants, causing a small aimless stampede as all the birds ran around in circles, puffing up at one another. The assailants now looked a lot more like victims. I could understand those birds more than I could humans at least. The loner bird is clearly an odd one out. It’s the only one repeatedly trying to hatch unfertilized eggs it lays, and it seems to always avoid the rest of the flock. Humans may deny the existence of Predator Disease, but they can’t deny that prey and predator both can and will sometimes behave in unnatural ways that may threaten the herd's safety. Or pack’s, in case of humans. Birds must know on instinctual level that the loner’s behavior is unnatural and are attempting to combat the Predator Disease on instinctual level. And since that is natural, I still will not interfere in this, unless the loner bird actually becomes a threat to others or will start getting too injured. The first time I attempted to pick one of the birds up was the only time for a good reason, as I have learned their viciousness all too well.
DING-DING
The sudden loud ring startled me enough that I nearly tumbled off the roof. Who would be coming over now? Lena and Reginald have left together and shouldn’t be back until afternoon, and they’d never use the bell. That means someone must be here for them. But wouldn’t they warn anyone to not come over? Especially with their plans for today.
With nobody to answer these questions, I had no choice but to go and discover the answer myself, flying up and over the house, towards the entrance gate. The moment I passed the house roof, I already saw a familiar silhouette. It was the human child from a few days ago.
Thankfully, Lena’s insistence on me carrying an epipen at all times meant I also carried my satchel at all times too, so I didn’t have to go grabbing my holopad, and took it out. But before I could even launch the translator TTS app to type out a greeting, the child was already hopping in place with excitement.
“Mr. Krekos! Hi! I came over to visit!”, she exclaimed, showing off her teeth in an unnerving expression of human joy. I simply tried to avoid that and focused on the pad, typing out my response.
“Hello, Rosie. Why are you here?”
The question was genuine, as the child was not carrying any more of that honey substance from last time.
“I just came over to visit you! Is that okay? Are Mr. and Ms. Vince okay with it?”
Visit... me? Why? While I was confused, I did instinctively type out a reply.
“They did tell me visitors are allowed as long as there’s no trouble when I first moved in.”
And before I could type a followup message asking her why she’s here, she already let out a joyous roar and ran past me.
“Can I see the chickens?”, she asked, and not waiting for an answer, rushed past the house and towards the cattle yard.
“Wait! You’ll scare them!”, I yell after her, but of course without a translator she can’t understand me as she runs like she already knows where to go.
And indeed she has, quickly rushing up to the open field where the birds were grazing. Thankfully she didn’t start chasing them, instead just approaching the flock from a distance and swaying in place, watching them with what I assume was some sort of predatory excitement at the sight of prey. Maybe that’s where the contained hunting instinct of human children showed themselves? In chasing small birds? I was still more subdued, considering she stopped shy of causing a small stampede, but still.
“Grandpa used to take me with him! He helped watch this farm until Mr. and Ms. Vince moved in. I like chickens! I think they’re cute.”, the child told me innocently as she kept swaying and watching as the beasts grazed upon insects of the pasture.
That revelation was... interesting. I suppose it makes sense that between the original owner of this land dying in the bombings and Lena and Reginald moving in, it would be unattended. With nobody to feed and watch over those things, they would be long dead for sure. And it was Rosie’s grandfather... Speaking of. I typed out my words.
“Does your grandfather know you’re here?”
She seemed to get a weird look as she stopped her excited swaying, fiddling with her hands instead. Looks like I asked the correct question.
“...he knows I am out visiting neighbors.”
That did not answer my question. I squinted at the human child, and she dipped her head as she continued.
“...he doesn’t know I’m here specifically. Or that an alien even lives here...”, she explained, her tone suddenly more sullen.
I couldn’t help but squint at that, and it appears that my expression was readable enough that even a human could see the suspicion, as she continued.
“I’m sorry... But if I told grandpa, he’d tell me I’m forbidden from talking to you, like he forbade me from talking to hedgehog people in town... But I want to talk to you! You’re nice and you’re a space bird!”
The child was actually working around the rules established by her guardian to come see me. I don’t know if I should be glad or concerned. Clearly, the man is anti-alien in his opinions, and I’d rather that kind of man not know about how close he lives to one. At the same time, I’d rather not encourage a child for lying to their guardian in order to meet a stranger they know they aren’t allowed to interact with... So I just took the middle path with my next message.
“I see. What did you want to talk to me about then?”, TTS speaks for me.
Her stiffened body language disappears, replaced again with earlier excitement.
“I wanna know more about space! And aliens! It’s all so cool but grandpa says it’s all dangerous because mom and dad died. But it’s not! The hedgehog people were nice, and you’re nice too!”
I wasn’t sure about that logic, but my self-preservation told me I shouldn’t try convincing her to go confessing. Instead I focused more on her chosen topic.
“I am not sure I am the best person to ask about space. I am not a scientist or traveler.”
“But you’re from there! You know way more than me. I don’t even know what you are called. And there’s gotta be cool things out in space!”
I let out a sigh. I suppose it’s childlike curiosity at its finest. So unfamiliar with mundane that it is a wonder. I remember being like that about becoming a doctor.
And then you let your teacher die.
I quickly tapped on the pad.
“Okay, I can answer questions, but I may not know everything.”
The noise that came out of the girl was like a squeal of a panicked dossur as she started hopping and spinning in place.
“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Mr. Krekos!” Sudden movement did cause me to recoil a bit, which in turn caused her to cease her happy flailing and adjust her little dress. “I dunno where to start though... Hm... What are you?”
...for all my trepidation about not knowing answers, I should have anticipated that the questions she asks will be rather age-appropriate and on the same level as we learn in our first school classes. At least I won’t disappoint her then.
“I am from a species called ‘krakotl’. We’re avians, as is obvious. Our home is...” dead, gone, reduced to glass and ash by our own hubris “...was Nishtal. A beautiful planet...”
Thankfully she did not question my hesitant pause. Instead she just nodded along.
“What about the hedgehog people? I already know venlil, but they’re the only ones I know name of.”
Hedgehog people in town she mentioned earlier. The only species I could think of that could be seen there would be the gojid. I have no clue what hedgehogs are, but probably some creature with visible similarity to them.
“They are called ‘gojid’, and they’re from gojid Cradle. Both of our species are... well, used to be known for our might and protecting other species of Federation.”
I am not sure if that’s something to brag about, considering... everything. But I didn’t want this child to get brought down with depressing regrets of our species. Let her know something nicer instead. She clearly lost a lot, but there’s still joy left in her. I wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin that.
“Cool! What about other people? I wanna know more!”
And so I went on, telling her about various species, although I mostly focused on ones in this new human-led union, only mentioning kolshians and farsul beyond that. It’s weird explaining to a child what a tilfish or a harchen looks like, but thankfully my holopad isn’t just a method of communicating with implant-less children. With access to interstellar web, I could easily pull up pictures of various alien species to show to her, even if she struggled to believe that some of them were even sapient purely based off of looks. With how varied species in Federation are, and how some of us admittedly aren’t too far physiologically from our more primal ancestors.
Among other topics, she asked me to tell her interesting things, which I didn’t know much of. I told her about Venlil Prime’s tidally locked status, a rarity among habitable planets, much less homeworlds for species. I told her about the unique architecture of Mileau, designed to accommodate both species of regular size and dossur themselves. I told her about Colia medical academies, some of the most beautiful medical facilities in the galaxy.
I wish I was more well-travelled, but I just wasn’t. My whole life, I never left Nishtal until the extermination fleet took me despite my protests. That may have been what saved my life...
Not that I, of all people, deserved it...
“Hey! Stop that!”
I flinched as I heard the child yell, but quickly realized that it wasn’t directed at me. Instead, Rosie was rushing down towards the chicken flock, breaking up the fight in which the loner was being pecked by a few larger chickens. As the human child approached, the birds stopped their infighting and scattered in different directions, crowing in loud panic and discontent. On instinct, I found myself rushing towards the child, forgetting about translation entirely.
“What are you doing?! Don’t touch them!”
I didn’t want her to hurt the cattle accidentally, and I didn’t want her to get hurt by the angry birds in return. But, it seems like the moment the birds scattered, she was satisfied with her actions and turned back to me, wearing another one of her happy smiles.
“Sorry, Mr. Krekos, I just saw chickens being mean. Bad chickens.” She explained.
I was baffled. Why would she interfere like that? When I tried that back when I was just starting, that got me pecked! But with her, the birds just scattered. What if they pecked her?
I took the pad out again and started typing quickly.
“That was dangerous. Why did you do that? What if they attacked you? Why are you even interfering in their natural dynamics?”, questions flowed out of my pad with an artificial human voice.
The girl simply giggled.
“They’re chickens! They aren’t dangerous. They don’t peck that painful and I’ve been scratched worse before. And I have to stop it because bullying is wrong.”
Then she actually noticed that the one that was being attacked wandered close. She casually approached it from behind, the blind spot and just reached down and grabbed it, picking the bird up. I was ready to rush to help the bird when...
“Mwah! There, all better.”
She did a human ‘kiss’ on the back of the cattle bird’s neck before releasing it, the surprise of it causing it to rush off. I knew what kisses were, I’ve seen enough of them between Lena and Reginald, but I believed they were gestures of intimate affection, not... what was even that?
It seems Rosie noticed my confusion as she explained.
“You gotta kiss it so it heals better! That’s what mom taught me.” The child displayed that smile of hers shamelessly. With how much I was being exposed to it, it almost wasn’t unnerving anymore. Still, it was interesting to learn that kisses are seen as something that helps wounds. I guess some species do have saliva with mild antiseptic properties, wouldn’t be too out there to assume humans are the same. And if that’s the case, maybe that’s how the kissing tradition started? Exchange of protective fluid between lovers?
“I see. I did not know that.” I responded before letting my puffed feathers relax. Okay, this whole ‘watching a human child’ thing is turning out to somehow be even more stressful than I expected at first.
“Wait, Mr. Krekos, what time is it?” She suddenly asked, looking up at the sky.
“It’s nearly twelve.” I respond, holopad having a convenient clock for local time.
“Oh no! I need to be home soon! Was nice seeing you Mr. Krekos gotta go bye!”
Before I had even a chance at typing out an answer or my own goodbye, the child sprinted away and back towards the entrance. I had to take flight just to keep up, and even then she just turned around, waved her arm at me and then kept sprinting down the road after leaving the gate. I simply offered a small wave of a wing back before locking the gate again. I suppose it is hard to keep track of time without a device or clock nearby...
Well, at least I had the usual peace and quiet now. And learned a bit more about the creatures I was in charge of. I should really try to deal with my aversion to looking things up on the human internet...
Just as I was about to head back out towards the yard, I heard a loud car horn, a familiar one, getting my attention. Lena’s car. There they were, signaling me, probably having spotted me at the gate from afar. Deciding to make use of my presence here, and hoping to avoid needing to explain that I had a surprise visitor earlier, I went ahead and opened the large gate, allowing the car to enter.
Once it was parked in the usual space, the doors opened and three people came out. Lena and Reginald were both looking a bit disheveled, but their faces carried these smiles that seemed wider than ever before. And third person... Was a stranger. A human I knew of, but never actually met. As he exited the car, a large bag in one hand, he just stared at me, standing in the front yard...
“...okay, I expected many things when I was told you guys housed a refugee, but not this.”
Oh no. Oh no, he was not one of the ones that was willing to overlook an invader that partook in bombing of his planet being allowed to walk free, of course, Lena and Reginald were the weird ones like that, doesn’t mean their son won’t be... I felt the panic rising as I realized I’d need to return to the camp. Why was I upset about that? This was supposed to just have been a way to make money, but now I have a free education program. Do I need to stay? No, but... Why?! Why do I not want to leave?
“Ken, you said it’s going to be alright no matter what it is, right? Wanted us to keep it a surprise to meet a new friend?” Lena’s voice. She should have told him, that’d give me time to prepare why didn’t they give me time why.
“No, no problems, just, really surprised, that’s all... uh... hey, buddy, you okay? You’re really... trembly.”
He was approaching me, and instinct took over as I recoiled, before stuttering out my answer.
“I-I’m fine...”
...thankfully translators don’t translate voice cracks. I hope, at least...
“Hey, relax... I have no problem with you being a krakotl, I just didn’t think...” He looks over at Lena and Reginald. “Calm down... I can wear my visor if you want?”
Right. Those things humans use to hide their scary faces from us.
“I... I’m good...”
Why would it last? It almost felt good after all.
There was some emotion I struggled to read on the young human’s face, as he sighed and shook his head.
“I screwed this up, I’m sorry. Let... Let me try again.” He straightened out, and adjusted his clothing, before slowly approaching me and giving me a small smile, no teeth showing. “Hello. My name is Kenneth Vince and I'm son of Lena and Reginald Vince. I was told you’re a refugee they took in to help out. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
That... snapped me out of it. Right... He was... not upset at my existence. He was just very surprised that Lena and Reginald weren’t. That’s a reasonable thing to be surprised about, considering I was surprised about it to this day. I tried to compose myself as I responded.
“My name is Krekos. I live here as... hired help with the cattle. It’s... nice to meet you?”
The smile on Kenneth’s face widens, though he still refrains from showing his teeth. Instead, he extends a hand towards me. A handshake is a human gesture that I found far from comfortable, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind on acceptability of my existence, so I took it with a wingclaw. He gently took it and held for a few seconds before letting go and sighing again, turning to his parents.
“You know, I always thought you guys would be empty nesters, but I never thought it’d be that literal.”
That got all three of them laughing, as I just tilted my head in confusion. I was fairly sure there were no empty nests in the house until after I adjusted the attic room for my own accommodations. Still, I took the laughter as a sign that the tense moment had fully passed and let my ruffled feathers slowly rest.
“Let’s head inside. Krekos, we’re having dinner, you’re welcome to join us.” Reginald said, picking up Kenneth’s bag. I tilted my head a little and he followed up with elaboration. “We will be having meat... But there’s still going to be stuff you can eat too. It’s a celebration, so I prepared a bit of everything.”
“Dad, you shouldn’t have!” Kenneth responded with embarrassment.
“None of that! Our son returned from the war, alive and a hero, and we can have a celebration. Krekos, I know you’re still... uncertain about meat so you don’t—”
“I’ll join.”
Wait, who said that? And why did they say that in my voice?
Wait, that was me. Why did I say that?
“That’s great to hear! I’ve got some nice steamed broccoli and some vegetarian fried rice as sides that you’ll enjoy!” Reginald smiled at me and I felt myself shrinking into my feathers. That the humans didn’t notice at least, proceeding into the house instead.
Well, looks like I signed my warrant. At least my bag and my epipen were on me in case something at the table triggers the allergy again. Would be rather unfortunate to have it happen two days in a row.
And that’s how, in just ten or so minutes, I found myself sitting at the dining perch, while humans took seats in chairs, all consuming chunks of roasted flesh and somehow managing to also stuff pieces of equally roasted plants in, and converse with one another. You wouldn’t be able to tell on first look, but despite their mouths being relatively small, especially for a predator, it seems they compensate for it by having those be near bottomless in both hunger and small talk.
I am not sure how I managed to shift my focus away from them consuming animal matter in front of me, however vat grown it might have been, and onto their conversation instead, but I succeeded. I suppose that was just part of me going native around predators. Soon, I’ll be the one feasting along with them before I know it, and snacking on those epipens to not die of it.
Like you could ever be on the same level as humans.
“So, Fahl? That’s where you were sent after the Battle of Earth?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. From what I heard, we got a light posting compared to guys at Sillis or Mileau. The most I had to deal with was some exterminator insurgents.”
That’s right. Since harchen participated in the Extermination Fleet, they were one of those who were occupied by humans during the war. It makes sense that there was at least some ground resistance.
“Honestly, the worst thing out there was the heat. Not the flamethrower kind, the climate. The place was so damn dry and hot. At least exterminators you could subdue or evade. Not so much with the scorching sun!”
I couldn’t resist a small chuckle at the idea of a predator being more afraid of hot weather than flamethrowers as I slowly pecked at the vegetables on my plate. Thankfully it was set far enough aside from any meat dishes that no contamination should occur, but I was still examining pieces before putting them in my mouth just in case.
Seems like reacting was a mistake though, as that brought Kenneth’s attention onto me. He finished chewing latest piece of flesh and pointed a fork at me.
“So, Krekos... Where are you from? Cradle was my guess, but I do know there were refugees from other places like Sillis too.”
That’s a weird question. Isn’t it kind of to be expected for a krakotl to be from our actual homeworld?”
“I’m from Nishtal.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Kenneth chuckled, tossing a piece of broccoli into his mouth and swallowing before continuing, “I meant, where did you live? I kind of assumed you were born there, but it’s not like Nishtal had a chance to send refugees out, and if they did, this is the last place they’d be.”
Oh... I caught concerned looks of Lena and Reginald, looking between me and Kenneth from both sides. Not only did they not make him aware that I was a krakotl, they also neglected to mention just how I came by my refugee status... Which was just a legal workaround to grant me asylum without unnecessary complications or establishing undesirable precedent. Legally, I may be a refugee, but practically... I am a defector. Lena and Reginald know that, I told them my story before. And while they were weirdly accepting, Kenneth... Fought extermination fleet here on Earth. Personally.
Still, I wasn’t about to lie. It took a few moments and gathering mental strength to steel myself, and averting my eyes, focusing on the plate of warm vegetables in front of me rather than the human’s anticipating stare before I answered.
“I did live on Nishtal. I... I came with the extermination fleet.” I responded, doing my best to avoid looking at him. I did not want to witness his reaction, for some reason the thought of seeing it weighed heavy on my mind.
“Oh.”
The response was simple, and had no followup. There was no more clinking of cutlery against plates, or chewing. The only thing hanging in the air of the kitchen was silence, weighing down on me. It dragged on and on... until it just got so unbearable I couldn’t take it.
“I-I’m full... Thank you for the meal.” I quickly said, hopping off the perch and stepping out of the kitchen, quickly making my way to the yard and taking flight.
Fresh air of the outside and rush of it as I flew up and gained speed... I missed that. I knew it’s not safe to just fly over other people’s territory, so I corrected my course into doing large sweeping circles over the cattle yard and simply let my wings carry me.
Flying away from any danger is the only thing I’m good for anyway. The only thing I ever do.
I closed my eyes. With them closed and not focusing on my angle it feels like I’m actually flying away from all the troubles. Away from humans who barely tolerate my existence, away from gojid who see me as worse than a predator, away from Earth and all its incorrigible customs, away from horrid cattle, away from constant memories...
Flying feels nice. It may be a bit harder than it was home, but it’s still possible. I heard that on Venlil Prime or Mileau it’s much harder. But here? Just an extra flap of wings for every few paces and you’re just fine, free to soar the skies...
Alone. With no one to ever share it with me again.
Slowly I let my eyes open back to the bleak reality. Greenery of surrounding pastures and woods, bright blue skies and farmhouses dotted about here and there greeted me. I lowered my gaze down, focusing on what’s below. There they were, fourteen brown and black dots spread around the enclosed portion of the farm territory. I am not sure how much time I’ve spent flying in circles and trying to forget things but my wings were feeling a tad sore. Then as I just began slow descent, in same circular motion, I noticed that one of the birds, a familiar one, was being chased by several others. Recounting the morning, I tried putting the knowledge to action, and shifted direction of descent, swooping down. To my surprise, that actually worked, as the moment I got close to the ground, the cattle birds all got much louder and scattered in all directions, including the loner. Who, at least this time, got off unharmed. I suppose such pathetic flightless creatures would fear a flying one much more than they would when I just run up to them...
Swooping at them from the sky like a predator to intimidate them into behaving... Like an arxur warden.
With the fight preemptively broken up, I flutter up to the roof of the cattle house, to my usual position and rested my wings. I didn’t see any movement from the direction of the house, so I suppose the family is still busy unpacking. Since Kenneth joined the military just before the Battle of Earth, and Lena and Reginald only moved here after their actual house in city of New York got destroyed, it’d be the first time the human is seeing what is basically his new home. There was a room set aside for him since before I even moved in, and while there is also a guest room... That one did not have a large enough window to fit through, which did not feel comfortable. So when I asked for a space with a bigger window they only had an attic to offer. They seemed uncomfortable letting me live in a tiny room with slanted roof, but I found such space more comforting than I would have a large room with a window not large enough to fit even one fully spread wing through.
I wonder if Kenneth will need as much renovation as I did? The house is built for humans, but he never lived there before. Will he need to buy a more comfortable bed? Getting a proper nesting setup in place of a bed took a bit of effort, but I figured something out. Human sheets were comfortable enough for such, and sitting perches were thankfully not that hard to get thanks to help from the refugee administration. Maybe that’s the things that Lena went to buy yesterday? Kenneth’s preferred room decor?
I looked up to the sky to see the sun beginning to dim. I am not sure if it was me flying that long, or me losing track of time in my thoughts again, but the sun was beginning to set. I began my usual chores, putting out an evening meal and water for the beasts, and while they feasted, ate some myself. I was a bit hungry, having not properly finished lunch and about to skip dinner, but after the earlier conversation, I’d really rather avoid giving them the opportunity to talk to me.
After the birds had their fill, and by that I mean they emptied the tray as they always do, I let out the call, and they started funneling into the cattle house. The lonely straggler being first to go and hop into its nesting box. I bet tomorrow I will have trouble with getting her out of there again...
I took the moment to gather some eggs the birds left over course of the day, and once that was over and all of them were accounted for, I closed it up. When I flew down over to the house, there wasn’t anyone by the back door thankfully, so I just left eggs there, returned the basket, and returned to my room through the window.
Well, at least I didn’t get nearly killed today... That’s nice I guess?
I was about to check my holopad when there was a knock on the door. I approached and opened it to see... Kenneth. Standing in the doorway.
“Uh, hi, Krekos. I just, uh... Wanted to apologize again. I really wish mom and dad told me everything ahead of time... I just want you to know, I have no problems with you whatsoever, yeah? It’s just. Surprising, I guess, to hear all that. I didn’t think there were any defectors from the fleet at all... Just. Uh, please don’t worry about me?” He offered me a small smile, showing his canines before quickly correcting himself and doing a closed-lip one. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or make you feel unwelcome.”
I had to take a moment to contemplate his words. Was Lena and Reginald’s weirdness hereditary? He almost reminded me of how Reginald talked to me early on, with constant stumbling over the words, as well as constant reassurances that he is fine with me being here. Couple that with failing to avoid predatory mannerisms like eye contact and smiles like Lena tends to and you get this human. But most importantly and least understandably, there was the general fact of him and them just... welcoming me. I couldn’t understand why. I should be one sorry to them.
“N-No, it’s fine... I’m sorry for... intruding on you and your family.”
“No, no, dude, you’re fine! I mean, hell, I was considering entering one of those exchange programs before the bombings happened, and even after, well, I did my best at Fahl to be the perfect friendly soldier just there to make sure no more bombs drop on my home and not kill or conquer anyone. And then mom told me your story, and I can’t believe it... Just... If you have any issues, feel free to tell me. I’m not one of those racist pricks that are too pussy to even call themselves HF anymore because they know they’ll get their teeth knocked. I get that there aren't good or bad species, just people. And you seem like a decent guy if mom and dad’s judgment is to be trusted.” His smile widened, though it was clear from tension on his face that he had to take conscious effort to keep teeth hidden. “So, what I said earlier stands. Friends, right?”
He extends hand forward, for a second time today. I wasn’t sure if I knew this human long enough to call him a friend... Any human really. But it also seems like human definition of ‘friends’ is anyone they’re cordial and peaceful with. Which is weird. You’d think translators would properly use ‘acquaintance’ for that.
Still... We will be living in the same house now. I can’t just say no, and... I can’t come up with a reason to say no. Even him being a predator and a human is not something I could really say I object to, considering how... mundane that became to me over my time here.
So, with naught on my mind but acceptance of the situation, I extended my wing and grasped his hand with my claw. This time he actually gripped it tightly and moved it up and down, as I saw other humans do occasionally.
“Yeah... I guess that’d be for the best.” I responded, shrugging off the hesitation. Fresh start for a third time, I guess?
The human grinned, forgetting to hide his teeth entirely, but I was ready for it somehow and avoided outwardly reacting.
“Cool! Anyway, I’ll try to get some shuteye early, I couldn’t sleep on the overnight flight home. See ya!”
And with that he left. Well... That meeting went well I suppose?
I returned to my nest and picked up my holopad, returning to what I was doing. And there it was, something I awaited every day. A notification that I was messaged on mailing app. Opening the letter revealed the schedule for the study program. Which... only had one day marked on it. And a note that the rest of it will be figured out ‘as we go from there’. So it’s not a schedule, it’s just a mark for the day of the first meeting.
While a bit underwhelming, it was still exciting. It would be an all-alien class so I wouldn’t have to deal with humans’ incomprehensibility nearly as much, and it would allow me to finally return to pursuing what I actually dreamt of. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure that was precisely what I wanted after everything that happened, it was at least something for me to move towards.
...just two days until start. I wonder if there’s some required reading to prepare?
[First] - [Prev] - [Next]

"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

I remember the first time I played War of the Monsters on the PS2 was when my dad brought home a copy of the game and played with me and my siblings. I grew up watching monster movies and instantly loved this game. It has been 20 years since I have first played this, I decided to write this guide in advanced tricks and techniques that I have developed from my experiences playing this game. I hope you enjoy this read and that It increases your appreciation of this hidden gem.
There are many guides online that cover combos, tactics, item placements, boss guides, level guides, cheats, etc. This is not one of those. This will cover more niche and advanced techniques that you can use to enhance your capability in your gameplay.
This guide will be written with the assumption that the control scheme is set at control 'B' which you can set in the pause screen during a game. (I think most people have it set at 'A') It shouldn't effect how these techniques function but something to keep in mind.
This is a work in progress and I will edit this thread as I come across new info and insights into the game.
Glossary: Movement Special Attacks Rage Utility Map Awareness Advanced Combat
\\\\MOVEMENT////////
The monsters in the game have varying movement speeds (running, climbing), jump heights, and flying speeds. However even with the slowest monster you can work around the lack of speed with enough practice utilizing the following methods and the environment to your advantage. Little is more scary than a slow monster like Agamo zooming around your foes mwahaha!

The Dashing Mechanic<<<

As listed in the instruction manual, this allows your monster to sprint at the cost of energy by double-tapping and holding the foward button until expended or pressing the ram button.

Launching<<< You can use the ram button to launch yourself off buildings, ramps, and rock formations to get extra height quickly (a mechanic that the mini game 'Big Shot' is soley based around).

This is particularly useful in maps like baytown where theres a lot of verticality in the environment.

Super Fast Flying<<< This ram mechanic is especially useful for flying monsters like Preytor and Raptros. Executing the dash-ram in conjunction with holding 'x' right after ramming while on the edge of a building or flat surface will result in a blisteringly fast flight speed that gives you better movement and height. Preytor is super fast with this method while Raptros has better airtime and control, though the speed difference is minor. Raptros is my prefrence due to the better airtime, control, and Projectile damage.
Firing projectiles while flying<<< Raptros and Preytor both have the ability to capitalize on their aerial advantage by firing projectiles mid glide. You can accomplish this by performing the glide holding X and while holding glide tap the □ button to fire. This takes energy though so maintaining altitude is key. the most effecient way to do this is to execute the dash>ram>fly combo to get extra speed, glide up over your opponent and lock-on to them to spin like a vulture firing down on your target.
Lock-On Steering<<< You may notice that while dashing, your ability to steer your monster is stiff. This technique will allow you to navigate around all those tight corners on a dime while dashing! This is more tricky to execute because it is depenent on where your opponents are located around you. This is indicated on the HUD as these numbered circles that show the health status of your opponents.

While sprinting using the dash, hold the lock-on button to force your monster to take a tight turn in the direction of the closest target. This is great for adjusting after missing your target.
For simply turning tight corners, simply tap the lock-on button instead while the opponents icons are on the side you want to turn.
There is a brief charge up before a dash, if you time your lock on just before the dash activates, you can pull up to a sharp 180 degree turn on your opponent if you missed the first dash-ram.
There is some wiggle room in the timing to play around with and practice your navigation using this technique.

Building Hopping<<< Every monster has different climbing speeds, some are fast like Kineniclops and Preytor, some are slow such as Agamo and Togera.

Building Hopping is the simple action of jumping while climbing a building. Repeating this cycle of (jump+grab+jump+grab+jump) will do two things:

1. It will add more speed to slower monsters climbing
2. It will reduce your contact to the building by about 80% and greatly reduce the chance of getting knocked down when an opponent is throwing projectiles.

\\\\SPECIAL ATTACKS////////
Every monster has two special attacks at their disposal under two categories; Close range and Long range. This chapter will cover the expansive utility of both types.

Short Range Special<<< Despite the differences in the vibrant animations, all monsters share the short range special attack in common. The only difference between them as far as I can ascertain Is the the time it takes to start up the blast (Ultra V being almost instant and zorgulon Taking 1.5 seconds). The purposes most common is to give yourself space when surrounded or cornered, and to have a quick and strong offense to your opponent knocking them down. However there is more utility in this attack when you think of this as a defensive move.
Invincibility Frames<<< The short range special attack gives you about 2-3 seconds of invincibility frames meaning almost nothing can damage you aside from falling buildings. This is excellent as a defense against thrown objects, explosives, lightning, short and long range special attacks, and environmental hazards.
Long Range Special<<< Every monster has a unique long range special attack that has different effects and ranges. There is more nuance in how you can utilize these attacks, so I will cover each monsters long range special individually so you can make the most out of these attacks:

1. Raptros' Fire Breath Raptros has a unique advantage in regards to how he uses this attack. He can activate it on the ground AND while mid-flight. Additionally, he can fire his projectiles while using his fire breath to squeeze in extra damage (There is a weird glitch where doing this turns the flame invisible, but the effect is still active). This also hinders opponents and catches them on fire.
   
2. Togera's Atomic Breath Similar to 'Raptros's Fire Breath' Togera's Breath has similar range and hinders opponents. The difference is that it deals more damage. You can also fire his projectiles while using his breath for pretty nasty damage.
   
3. Preytor's Flying Leeches Leechs not very damaging by itself, it is a decent threat if you can manage to chain up multiple specials around the map. (Ex. In Metro City there are multiple red orbs, 50% energy, around the buildings and streets where you can chain at least 3 leeches). There are two minor benefits from the leeches: A. It gives the opponent something else to target or focus on A.I. or human B. Can't be blocked unless intercepted by thrown object or shot projectile, or using a special attack, thus resulting in multiplying damage stacks if chained. You can also spread the leeches out by locking on different targets while sending them.
   

*This Special attack is really best used in situations where the opponent won't have time to stop all of the leaches (preferabally up close) followed up with your own projectiles or thrown objects or follow up advances.

1. Congar's Sonic Roar Similar range to Raptros and Togera's Breaths, and Considerable damage and launches opponents far. It can reach through some buildings for full effect. You can also tilt congars head around to spread the roar around to get a wider spread. Opponent can block this attack or counter with a short range special.
   
2. Robo-47's Atomic Missile The most immediately damaging special in the game by far. It also launches opponents far like congars roar. It is very versatile at close range and long range. You can choose to fire quickly or wait to lock on the target for a more likely hit. You can tilt his head down to shoot the ground for a damaging 'short range' blast. You can also cancel the missile by pressing the block button for later use. It cannot be blocked unless opponent uses short range special or dodges.
   
3. Agamo's Head This special is unique in it can be used to farm for more energy considerably fast while weilding it, which in turn stocks you with an additional special when you are ready for the next head or short range attack. Creating an efficient cycle of banking more special attacks. It is damaging and knocks opponents down upon a confirmed hit. It also can be used as a bomb by pressing the long range special button a second time. This isnt great for throwing at enemies from a distance as an explosive, launching opponents. The head when thrown is also super bouncy and ricochets damaging buildings and knocking down opponents all the while gaining you energy.
   
4. Magmo's Eruption This special launches a barrage of fireballs at an opponent and juggles them into the air with good damage followed up with some decent fall damage. This can be paired with a second erruption when chaining with a second special pickup on the map. You can tilt magmo's head up first before locking on an opponent to send the fireballs over obstacles and tyen lock on to your opponent have a better chance to reach them.
   
5. Kineticlops's Lightning storm This is great for crowd control and anti-air with good range. The storm electricutes all nearby monsters in range and launches them upward. This is nice for discouraging flying enemies. You can also flick the lighting up and down for flavor just to show off but it won't do much damage.
   

*Its also nice using this special following a one-two combo of shocking an opponent with a power generator and throwing for a double shock.

1. Zorgulon's UFO Swarm Arguably the weakest of the long range specials, but it is still is fun to use and can be used in creative ways. If you lock-on a target while executing this special (provided they are not behind cover) you will fire this device that hover above the target that calls in ufos to harrass the opponent. The damage is varied based on how many shots are managed by the ufos and when the device is destroyed. There is a charge on the device that when run out releases the ufos and ends the special. This can be shortened if you damage them in any way. Another use is to place them in an area of interest, such as locations with resources like health, energy, or powerups. It is more defensive and punishes opponents for going where you don't want them to go. You can also grab these ufos for a weapon to attack with, gaining more energy or even fire their lasers at the opponent. while not practical is fun.
   
2. Ultra V's Grapple Cable This special does minor damage but can grab and pull an opponent across the map to you and stuns the enemy for a few seconds. This can be really nasty since it allows you options to set up a combo, launch them with a 360 kick, pull them into environmental hazards (bottomless pits, radioactive waste, powerlines, steam, tsunamis, falling buildings). It can be use up close for an easy stun or to take opponents away from reaching resources such as Health, Energy, or powerups. At long ranges it is best used at highground where line of sight is less blocked by obstacles. You can also send the grapple while holding any object for extra damage. The fan favorite method is to use explosives (gasoline truck, airplanes, fuel tanks) for an explosive combo! even if you miss with the grapple the impact of the explosive will hit the opponent if close enough. You can also use the grapple to damage buildings to knock opponents off the walls.
   

\\\\Rage Utility//////// Rage is an interesting mechanic that I think some people overlook as not that useful. It Is available once you collect enough energy that you energy bar flashes, and makes it so your following actions are more effiecient than standard usage. Instead of your energy being used up quickly it is unlimited until the rage runs out. I have not tested if Rage increases your damage output. I have focused this as more a tool for various tactics I came up with.

sprinting with rage<<< using the dash usually expends energy really fast. however with Rage, you can extend the time you can continue you sprint significantly. you can Also dash-ram infinitely until expended, which is scary when used in conjunction with the lock-on steering technique.
Firing projectiles with rage<<< Every monster has projectiles that have unique behaviors, have varying damage and cost. Every monster in general benefits from using rage to shoot more projectiles, the difference is in how you position yourself to shoot them effectively.

Flying monsters can use this to fire even more projectiles while in mid-flight without worrying about losing stamina, the unlimited energy also gives room to reposition the monster if more altitude is needed the damage is also decent from both of them.
Robots like Robo-47 and Ultra V have similar projectiles that pepper small damage but are very rapid. The faster you mash the □ button, the faster the firing rate. when using rage you can catch opponents with little cover and barrage them with a volley of lasers/bullets.
Kineniclops's projectile is unique that it is the slowest but has the most heat seeking property. You can shoot a lot with little cost and it deals decent damage especially if you can land multiple hits with them. with rage you can create an army of these lightning balls at some highground or running and jumping approaching them from different angles makes it hard for them to avoid the stacks in damage.
\\\\Map Awareness//////// This section will cover Map awareness and how to take advantage of the abundant resources in your game. knowing the layout of the map as well as intimately knowing the placement and respawn time of your resources will aid you so much in how you decide to approach the following setups we are about to cover here.

Resources<<< Resources are defined as anything on the map you can pick up that aids you (Health, Energy, Powerups, Items). The location of Health, Energy, and powerups on each map is static, though consistent and respawn after a period of time. Items However can both be static (pieces of a building, rocks, water towers) and dynamic (moving items like cars, helicopters, trains).
chaining resources<<< This is a series of actions that utilizes multiple resources for a desired outcome. (ex. gaining health/energy/damage).

For example, chaining a power transformer lightning bolt+throwing the transformer+radio tower spear impale+gasoline truck = a chain resulting in big damage to your opponent there are many combinations you can chain together with items its devistating when you know exactly when and where an item will be so you can in rapid succession throw items to juggle them from a distance.

chaining specials<<< For example, it is possible to set oneself up to use at least three specials in succesion easily in a map such as atomic island where the reactor in the center can recharge your special rapidly. Think of the possibilities with this alone, thats 3 to 4 flying leechs from preytor at once, 3-4 nuke missiles from robo- 47 and so on. Other maps have instances where if you have a special in stock you can position yourself next to another red orb or 50-100% energy and use a special of your choice and follow it up with an additional special that you subsequentally grab.

\\\\Advanced Combat//////// There are guides out there that cover the specific combos you can pull in sequence and I have a few quick tips to increase your combos, and increase your lethality.

Combo canceling<<< Each monster has varying speeds in execution and amount of hits they cam perform before they end with a launching strike. What I suggest when pursuing higher combos is to simply tap the block button before the launch. Speed is key here so results may vary. such as congar who is more combo focused with fast punches. You can unleash a lot of hits and tap the block button, the follow up with more hits. there is a chance that the opponent will have time to block so it takes practice.

Royal Road here: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/80877/nop-atalors-fate
Discord Tag: notafurrylad
It's been a while, huh?

First Last Next
Memory transcription subject: Yivreen, Cyonian Survivor
Date [standardized human time]: February 22nd, 2134
The flash daymares hadn’t stopped. Four nights since they’d set in, and now those two fire and brimstone eyes were lingering, waiting to come out when I was asleep. I’d thought that first daymare had been a fluke. It’d felt real, getting chomped up like that, crushed. But... ah.
I’d had more. Once I was in the mouth of that Arxur who’d kicked down the tree. Then I was in the cages with Hens Jr and Sr, and Alma... And each time if there was time for it that swampheaded, red eyed, smokey Arxur would come on in. Try and guilt me like I’d done something wrong.
It was working.
“Yiv. Yiv! I think I got it!” I blinked, my stupor broken by Junior. The kid had been a good help with the computer system since we’d let him fiddle with it instead of me. Much to my... begrudging admission: he was better at it. So, I stood from the chair and headed over to him. The monitor and console were lit up good as new, but they’d been like that for a couple nights now. We’d finally got access to a local map when that’d happened. Or rather a map of the surrounding area, outdated as it was it still had the location of the city on it. It wasn’t like anything had significantly changed in the past hundreds of years since this place had been abandoned. It had been the whole ‘trying to page it into the rest of the old systems at the outpost’ part that’d eluded Juniors little pet project.
“What did you get?” I replied, leaning over his shoulder with a paw on the console while he typed at it.
He cleared his throat. “W-well. I was able to find the wire that’d been causing the problem with the connection to the outpost’s server.” A server? What?
“What do you mean a server? I thought the only computer systems in here were in this room?” He turned his head, a brown eye winking at me. “Nuh-uh! Were you even listening when I explained it earlier? It’s more than just a weather monitoring station. It had a server, otherwise why would it need so many type-v connectors. See?” He pointed a claw to the bundle of wiring running up the wall and into a concrete hole that looked to lead to the next floor above us. Probably. I hadn’t really cared about how many wires there were.
“So... there’s more than just the databanks here in this room?” I asked. My eyes were tasked with looking over the monitor with pursed lips. I’d dug through some ye olde outpost files in the past nights for my journalist program but evidently I’d been missing things if all it took was one kid who had a knack for tech to ascertain there was more to these places.
Before my question could be answered though the command lines and startup protocols on the operating system for the thing had popped by and opened up onto a familiar desktop of our more modern tech. Junior went about clicking immediately to some command line and writing in some jibberish... And- my eyes widened. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing my claw to all the commands on his little black background’d screen.

1: Status
2: Logs
3: Garage Door
4: Barrack Override
5: Communications

Were among the top five, with a half dozen more I didn’t quite have time to think on. “Quick- quick! The uh- There’s a garage?” Don’t get distracted Yivreen. Ahhh moss-heaps.. “The Barrack Override. See what that does.”
The boy swatted away my paw trying to push at it. “Calm down! Calm down jeez, fine!” He jammed his digit into the corresponding number and pressed enter. A few moments passed as it simply displayed three dots. I waited... I waited.. Cmoooo-
Clank. VV-vv-vvv-veeeeeee....
It sounded like something behind the wall to our left was trying to unrust itself and move. A couple hundred years of not moving or being maintained had probably ensured it’d never get moving smooth again. Then of course the universe proved me wrong, and the wall actually shifted. The rounded metal slab I’d taken for a part of the tower’s superstructure began to lower, and behind it... “Holy shit.”
I don’t know where the extreme language had come from but... Wow. My eyes lit. Bunks. Bedding. Lockers.. It looked like the room beyond had been some sort of lodging area for soldiery when this place was built. But there’d been a grow-in on the back wall from a massive root. Snaring part of the room in its gripping-vinelike vice grip. The root was long dead, and the hole it’d bored through the concrete had left the inside exposed to the elements a touch more than if it’d just been left... At least there wasn’t much evidence of water damage.
“Yiv? Are you-” But I was already headed through the way, a paw on my pistol as I glanced around the abandoned room. My mind went right to checking out the lockers, which turned out to be a good idea. My little training sessions into understanding the named bits for guns with Alma were about to start paying off.
“We’ve got guns. Or... Something like guns.” I announced, pulling out the carrying case and flipping it open. Inside I found what looked to be a.. Hrm- no magazine, no bullets... I lifted it up, the rifle-like hardened carbon material was in remarkably good shape. Probably due to the case and materials, but something was different about it. I glanced my eyes over it, noting the electronic aiming system on top which... when I clicked at it offered a red circle for looking through the little scope with. Huh. Not a common thing to find on a Cyonian designed weapon, at least not these nights. This place was old, but this weapon looked like it’d been built by something more ambitious than Federation paws. Federation handhelds were all modified from the same combustion based lead belchers. A fact that rarely ever went unspoken on our own networks when we needed a reason to criticize Aafa.
It took a while longer, but eventually I did find a snap-button on the back of the trigger grip that made something inside it hum to life. My eyes widened. “It’s... An energy weapon.” I murmured. My tail flicking in apprehension. Would it even still fire? The red blinking just below the button told me it must have no power perhaps but... “Hey. Junior. You think you could figure out how to charge one of these guys-?”
I turned my head to see the kid standing at the threshold with his tail in his paws, gripping them anxiously. “Yiv. The uh. The communications aren’t working, but I think the garage door might open if we try it. It could be that cropping of wall and sealed door we figured the old power system must have been housed in right?” He glanced to the rifle in my paws. “I mean, if it uses the same standards as the computer out here it should still be compatible with our stuff. But- we don’t have anything to charge power packs of that size.” He pointed to the fixture sticking out the bottom of the stock. Hrm, he was right.
“See if you can’t get the garage open. I’ll keep looking in here and see if there’s something to help with that.” Came my own voice, I felt... Giddy. Alive. The potential to fight back was intoxicating. Before all I’d had was this dinky pistol I’d used to... kill a couple of the greys. But if we could bring the fight to their patrols, save more people-
I shook my head. Why was I thinking like this? I couldn’t stand up to an invasion fleet. I’d been a frightened Sivkit on the first night of the attack. I- I’d stampeded. I couldn’t remember any of it, but the chance I’d trampled someone in my panic was not zero. I might have contributed to someone being crushed... I’d failed Els, that soldier I’d dragged into the house. Obelisk I couldn’t even keep my mind straight in a fight with those howling, laughing Arxur in my head. The campfire fight had been a fluke!
I didn’t quite know how long I just sat there, staring at the rifle beating myself up, but eventually I was shaken from it by Keick when she sat beside me, an arm on my shoulder. “Hey. I heard you and Junior had a bit breakthrough eh?” She said non-chalantly. I could tell though, even with the chipper tone she’d read me. The accountant knew I’d been in one of my little moods. She’d known me the longest of anyone here, everyone else was like... a pack of convenience? Maybe not Junior. Keick and I had survived the woods together. I’d pulled her from her own hells next to that burning car.
“Hey.” I returned back. “Yeah. Junior got the servers working. Or something like that.” I pointed a claw over at the computer, only to notice he was gone now. I blinked. Had I been out of it that long?
Keick filled in the hole in my head. “He went with his old man to go check out the garage.” Oh. Yeah.
I looked around, “Ah. The guns. We have guns now. Real guns.” I explained, holding the one I had in my paws up for her to inspect.
“Doesn’t look like any gun I’ve seen.” She mused back, taking it from my grip. My body was moving on its own now, rummaging deeper into the lockers. Some of these cases had been broken by the snaring, smaller branches of the grow-in. The firearms within cracked open and busted. Probably no good at all, exposed to the ambient humidity as they had been for so long. Still, couple of the other rifle cases were good. We had weapons, plural. Binoculars? Got em. Spare power packs that needed charging? Got em. There was a lot of survival gear here. Like a militarized ranger outpost had been stationed here. The synthetic material of the camouflaged cloak I found proudly proclaimed it’d reflect thermal scanning on its faded label even! “Either the old rangers from before the treaties were really into operator stuff or the Obelisk put all this here just for us.” I murmured.
Keick, for her part seemed to be looking it all over with a little inventory in her head. Already tapping in the number of each item into her dataslate. “Well. I’d go with the former. The Obelisk hasn’t been around for us lately.” Came the reply as she poked a claw at one of the now entirely spoiled ration packs. “Still, there’s enough stuff here you could arm a squad of soldiers probably. If you know where we can find some spare soldiers that is.”
I flicked my ear at the poor humoured joke. “Ahuh.” Came my reply. “Maybe you should go try the radio again, they’d love to get their paws on stuff like this I think. Pre-war tech actually made to fight predators like this is rare.” Which begged the question... Why did the cloak boast about defeating thermals? These outposts were dated after our discovery and incorporation into the Federation as an early member, and WELL before the Arxur war. So why had we built cloaks like these? Was this equipment used during the years when we’d resisted the burning of our forests and jungles? If so, it meant it might have been auhh... much more violent then the archives made it out to be. Maybe there was a story here? My inner journalist was theorizing.
___________________________
I’d had to pick my jaw up off the ground after headed over to the garage. Hens Senior and Alma were leaned over the the opened hood of what looked like a remarkably still intact forest rover. The design was actually recognizable, having not changed much from what we had tonight. Six thick grooved tires, a buggy-like cockpit four seater set in the middle, and a back and top rack for storing anything you could want. “Is it working?” I asked the obvious as I stepped inside, noting Junior sat off to the side, fiddling with some wall mounted box or other. He didn’t look to actually know what he was doing beyond dusting it off and giving it a deep stare.
“I wouldn’t think so.” Came the chime of Keick, who’d followed me inside. It was around now my monocular visioned eyes were noting the various tools and spare parts laying around in the garage. Whoever had last been here had left in a hurry seemingly, because it was mostly stocked. No mess on all the immensely dusty parts. I could see a couple smaller fauna in the corners. A lizard here, a rodent there. Obviously there had been some way they’d chewed their way in at some point... Or they’d come in when the door was opened to the bustle and noise of the forest to my back.
It was Senior who looked back at my question, standing to his full height before leaning his back against the old vehicle. “No. It isn’t working. Or at least it won’t be until I figure a way to give the battery juice.” I tilted my head.
“Is it one of those older ones that zap out after a hundred years or so?” Came my obvious question.
He flicked his tail no. “It’s got one of the standard ones, it’s just that it stopped auto-cycling a couple hundred years ago. The electric motor looks like it should work if we pop it on. But we’ll have to see.” He glanced around the workshop. “I want to say we could probably get it working with the tools we have, but if the battery can’t be jumped, or it’s spent, or the motor needs a complete replacement we’re up a creek on getting it working.” It sounded like he knew a bit about it.
The feeling of my face scrunching ever so much came. “You didn’t tell me you were a handyman.” I said, crossing my arms.
“Well it never came up.” He said back with an affable smile. “Listen, it’s been a long couple weeks. Don’t get all spotty with me. We didn’t have anything a hobbying mechanic could fix anyhow.” Just a roll of the eyes from myself is all that met him as Keick spoke up, stepping over to the other three.
“So what’re you gonna jump it with?” She asked incredulously, leaning over the open cabin. From there I sort of... zoned out. All the older Cyonians present were bickering and blathering about the buggy which was quickly losing interest for me. I didn’t understand anything about mechanics like that beyond the bare minimum, so it was out of my purview. If they got it working that’d be another thing but I wouldn’t have been any help right now, so instead I placed a couple careful paws down until I was beside Junior, sitting next to him as he seemed to be eyeballing some far too faded label.
He had a paw lightly rubbing out the dust that’d caked an outlet, still one brown eye fixed on the label. All I could make out myself was the little yellow square symbol warning of an electric charge hazard. Weird to think even now those hadn’t changed. Had Federation technology really not changed all that much? Was it just us? A sigh. “So. What’s got your your nose twitching little dude?”
The past couple nights he’d gotten better with his anger, and... hadn’t destroyed any important tech in a fit of rage. All he’d needed was something to set himself to in a difficult situation like this. Keich had been right to set him on that computer. And.. I’d felt myself trying to encourage him along the way. Partly because I had an investment in getting those maps, and then partly because he’d ended up filling in a spot in my head like a younger cousin. Him and his old man had only been around for a little bit, but I guess maybe I didn’t want to think too hard about what had probably happened to my real family. For now, maybe I felt the most ‘at home’ around Keich and this little tinkerer. Was that weird? It felt like it should be weird.
He answered, looking up with a small upturn in his lips. “I think I found your energy cell charger for those guns you had.” He said simply. “One of the manuals over there wasn’t totally ruined, I saw something about a ‘optical projector weapon’ and ‘charger’ so I was trying to figure out if this was it. I... Think it might be, but I’d need one of those batteries to make sure.”
Now I felt like smirking. “Oh yeah? Well go get one swamp brain. Let’s see if these things still work huh?” Dutifully, he was up and off, tail shaking behind him in what I recognized as excitement. We weren’t totally defenceless anymore, and if the buggy could be salvaged there would be a means at least to relocate if we had to. Or... Maybe I could take a trip down to the city and paint a couple more of those scumbags red-
I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? If I was going back to Ataln it was to try and save more people... Yeah. I still needed to see if Gael was alive, maybe check that old house I’d left Els in. I don’t even know if I could find it now, knowing how scatterbrained I’d been at the time but- making a return to at least try seemed worth it.
Regardless, the box on the wall did turn out to be the correct port to charge energy cells for the guns. We’d just need to rig it up to the solar power system and juice them up to test them. Things were looking up! Our mobility had the potential to go from nights in every direction for shelter to mere hours, I’d just have to hope Senior knew what he was doing.
“Hey. Buddy.” I’d wrapped my arm around Junior’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go take a break for now huh? You were working on the computer all night. Maybe it’d be a good idea to just go relax. Enjoy how much you got done eh?” Besides. Gave me a good way to check out the logs page on the computer system myself before he stumbled on anything. It wasn’t like I didn’t trust him with it but- well there was no way to know what was in those logs.
He nodded, and with that I stood up, streeeetched out, and headed toward the tower. “Good, it’s your shift on the guard tower anyway.” I intoned politely. It was going to be a long day, assuming there was anything of substance in those logs... Scrounging through those would be preferable to sleeping right now anyway.

Previous Part
I woke up to the smell of sausage and eggs. Over by the side of my bed was a tray with a masterfully prepared omelet and sausage to match. That’s not what caught my eye though. What did that was the little note stuck to the side of they tray.
“Sorry for terrorizing you- R”
Was scrawled in barley legible hand writing, Rocco’s I imagined.
“So it can cook but not write?”
I muttered to myself as I got out of bed.
A fresh change of clothes was laid out for me and I decided just not to question it. The clothes fit perfectly and I tried not to let my mind wander as to why that was while I ate breakfast. Rocco’s omelet was outstanding, for a trash panda he made a great cook but I have no idea where he would’ve picked that up. After I finished I brought my dishes downstairs and ran into Stein in the kitchen.
“The clothes fit don’t they? My eyes aren’t what they used to be, I should’ve just sent Rocco up to ask your size.”
“No no, they fit fine, and please don’t send Rocco to do anything without telling me. I think that might just give me a heart attack on the spot. I’m still really not used to all… this going on”
I said gesturing to the raccoon who had wandered into the kitchen and was now flipping me the bird with both his paws.

Stein nodded to me with what I hoped was understanding. As much as Rocco seemed harmless (Maybe… hopefully?) I really didn’t want the furry little demon arriving anywhere near me unexpectedly. We already saw how that went in the basement yesterday. I finished washing my dishes in the sink as Stein ate his breakfast. He seemed so calm and normal, compared to the things I’d seen in this house so far. If you took one look at Bianca you say she looked too good to be true. Rocco is… well, he’s a talking raccoon, that’s immediately strange. But when it came to Frank and Stein you couldn’t tell there was anything off about them. Honestly I still had trouble seeing where they fit into this whole thing.
I was lost in this train of thought as I went through the motions of taking my groceries out of the refrigerator where someone had put them. I didn’t even realize Bianca was standing behind me till she tapped my shoulder. Jumping out of my skin I screeched out,
“Jesus Rocco what the hell!”
Bianca went from serious to laughing hysterically in no time flat.
“He really has you spooked after last night doesn’t he?”
She barely got out between bouts of laughter.
“I’m sorry really, oh and I’ve got this for you.”
Chuckled Bianca, handing me a wad of cash with a face that didn’t look remotely sorry for laughing at me.
“Just for that I’ll take it! But I’ve got to ask, how do you have this much cash just lying around, isn’t that a little risky?”
“You’d have to ask my unc… Frank or Stein.”
Bianca answered, stumbling on the apparently familiar lie. As she said this Stein stood up from the table and answered my question.
“Researching the supernatural isn’t always safe but Germany pays its scientists well, even if we don’t work for them anymore.”
“Germany? When did you work with the German government?”
I asked, a sinking suspicion settling into the pit of my stomach.
“1941, The Führer requested me specifically and I met Frank there. Oh don’t look at me like that! I didn’t support his cause, he simply wanted to look into forces outside his control and that was my specialty. It was business nothing more.”
Stein responded, pointing his finger at me and sounding a little annoyed.
“But that would make you… there’s no way you’re that old. Uh I don’t mean!”
“Think nothing of it, if anything, it means our serum worked. Distilled it from the DNA of a few pureblooded vampires and designed it to slow human aging to a crawl.”
Bianca cut him off,
“Stein, I think I can see steam coming out his ears. Can we maybe give the supernatural stuff a rest? I know you’ve been around it all your life but I think its a bit much for him.”
“Yes, I suppose your right Bianca. I’ll leave you two be then.”
Stein surrendered, as he turned and walked out of the room. Like he hadn’t just dropped yet another bomb on me.
I held myself together much better this time. After talking raccoons and succubi, learning vampires apparently existed in such an offhanded manner just didn’t surprise me as much. At this point I was just about ready to accept any supernatural entity I’d ever heard of existed in some capacity. In fact that might be the best policy moving forward.
“Hey you’re not going to pass out on us again right?”
Bianca asked turning back to me, genuine concern in her voice.
“No, I’ll be fine. The more I hear about this kind of thing the better I am at just accepting it. It’s a lot easier hearing it from one of you guys than having it drop out of the sky at me.”
I joked, walking with Bianca to the door. I noticed my poor attempt at a joke was the first time I said anything about Imalone without feeling like someone would call me crazy. I couldn’t dwell on that for too long right now though, I had to drop off the groceries that had taken me a full day to get. In hindsight though, I’ve had worst trips to the grocery store.
The next few days passed without any real issues, I got things set up in the house and ordered some furniture with the money I got from Bianca. On the second day I figured I should go out and explore the town a bit. I was getting bored being cooped up doing normal things and apparently I wanted to throw a wrench in all that.
“Maybe a bar” I thought to myself as I walked out the door just as the sun had started to think about setting, “Those are always a good place to meet people”.
This is where I tell you I may be just a little awkward. Even back home I didn’t really get out and meet new people much but I figured now is as good a time as any to start. I threw together a quick outfit with the clothes I brought with me from home. Hopefully I looked at least a little bit presentable in khakis and a red dress shirt. I walked out my door and immediately saw Bianca’s house peering out over the town. I considered dropping by to see if Bianca wanted to join me. I had told her about the reasons I ended up in Eagles Peak but I still knew precious little about her. I assumed her past wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. I wanted to know what exactly drew someone like her to a sleepy little town like this. Maybe seeing if she wanted to join me would be a good opportunity to learn something about her? It’s entirely possible I just wanted to spend more time around her because she was drop dead gorgeous. Maybe it was because she was the first person I bumped into in town? I couldn’t put my finger on it and if we’re being honest I didn’t want to admit the real reason to myself.
That would have to wait for another day though. I had spent so much time thinking about it that by the time I snapped back to reality I was by the greyhound bus stop, well past her house. There was another bus stopped there and people were getting off of it. None of them looked like what I would call a local but its not like I’d really know what a “local” looked like here anyways. Still, this town couldn’t get this many visitors right? It was weird but probably had a completely reasonable explanation.
“The Eagle’s Roost” read the sign above the bar’s entrance, it was actually a pretty high class looking establishment. The fresh red paint gleamed against the faded whites and grays of the other buildings on the street. Inside, a well polished dark wood floor greeted me. The room was completed by a roaring stone fireplace and a well used set of stools by the counter.
“Hey there! Anyone home?!”
I called out into the empty bar.
“Give me a minute!”
Replied a deep gruff voice form the back room. Eventually a man emerged from the room, well I say man but what I mean was a mountain in human form. This guy had to be about 7 feet tall and built from solid granite. Seriously, the muscles on this guy would’ve put The Rock to shame.
“Little early to start drinkin’ isn’t it?”
The mountain grunted judgmentally.
“Well I’m new here I just wanted to see the town. I could come back later if you want.”
“New, why didn’t you say so! New here, I haven’t seen anyone new here in years! come sit down if you’ve got questions about this place I can probably answer them!”
The now elated giant boomed at me. He turned hospitable in an instant, offering me a drink on the house for his poor manners before. His name was Tucker and he’d come to the town years ago as a foreman for it’s mine. The mine dried up and the workers moved on but something about this town spoke to him and he decided to stay. He opened up this bar and the rest is history. Something about the way he talked about the mine did’t sit right with me though. He kept mentioning how it dried up like he was trying to convince me that was what happened. Plus a mine out here didn’t exactly make much sense to me.
“So you run this place alone then?”
I asked, more to be polite than out of genuine curiosity. We had started to run out of things to talk about after conversation about the mine dried up much like it apparently had.
“Never needed any help besides my wife’s, but most days I just run the place alone, yes. No sense in hiring help here, not many people looking for work outside of the ones working at that grocery store down the street. Anyways I should get back to work, its getting to be about time we actually open to the public.”
I turned my head to look at the sign I now realized was stuck to the door. “Eagle’s Roost Hours: 6PM-1AM every night”. I realized with embarrassment I had walked through the door an hour before opening. Tuck had been nothing but friendly though, and I almost felt bad for assuming the locals like him would want to shoo me away. After all, everyone I’d met so far had been nothing but nice, not including Rocco that is.
As I turned my attention back to my drink I thought about the mine again. I hadn’t seen any records of the mine Tuck mentioned in my internet searches of the town before I came here. Honestly it had been incredibly difficult to dig up anything on the town. I wasn’t necessarily the most thorough in my search, but mines tend to be a staple of the towns they’re located in. This mine in particular seems to be what the town was built on. I’m not sure what had me so worked up on this mine issue but I was sure it was important. I sat there at the bar, mulling it over and sipping on my drink when a hand slapped down on my shoulder.
The man it was attached to said something but I couldn’t catch it even if I wanted to. I was far to laser focused on the mark seared black into the mans hand, the exact same eagle that was burned into my back. I pushed him off and bolted for the door, all I heard behind me was the mans confused “What?” And Tuck shouting at him.
“Now what in the Blazes did you do to the poor kid Robert!”
I shot off into the street from the bar, no one was chasing me but the fact that the symbol was here had set me off like a deer running from a gunshot.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Called a now familiar, heavily accented voice from the alleyway.
“Rocco, what are you doing out here?”
I questioned, bewildered at finding him out in the open. I’d never admit it but seeing a familiar face, even Rocco’s, calmed me down a little
“I’m a raccoon in an alleyway, what do you think I’m doing, fishing? No, I’m rootin' around in the trash, Frank needs some lithium foil and he can’t be bothered to run out and buy some batteries himself, stingy bastard.”
He retorted, looking for all intents and purposes like a normal raccoon at the moment.
“Even if I were to guess I wouldn’t have even come close to that.”
“I live to surprise”
Rocco sneered, taking a bow dripping with sarcasm.
“Anyways Frank is back at the house right? There’s something I’ve got to tell him.”
I asked, turning and running as soon as I got a response in the affirmative.
“Yeah he is, what exactly is so importa…. And he’s gone”
I made it to their strange high house in record time and burst through the door like I owned the place. For some reason Bianca seemed completely unfazed as I crashed into the entryway without so much as a knock.
“You know, you don’t live here right?”
“Oh yeah, good to see you too Bianca. Anyways, were is Frank, or Stein for that matter I’ve got something to ask.”
“They’re in the basement.”
Bianca said pointing to the door without looking up from the book she was reading.
Her dismissive attitude didn’t even register to me as I made my way down the basement steps. I got to the bottom and an acrid scent assaulted my nostrils.
“Do I even want to know what that is?”
I called into the basement, announcing my presence. Frank emerged from a room to my side decked out in a full lab coat and goggles along with a hairnet to protect what little of his still remained.
“What do you need?”
“You guys seem to know a lot about the supernatural right? Well, does this symbol mean anything to you?”
I said pulling off my shirt and turning my back to show him the mark that woman had left me with. His reaction could best be described by the sound of shattering glass as he dropped the beaker he was holding as he saw the symbol.
“Where did you get that?!”
He yelled more than asked.
“Back in Imalone.”
“Imalone? What’s that supposed to mean?”
It dawned on me that I hadn’t explained it to him like I had Bianca, so I filled him in. I told him the whole truth this time, where the mark came from, what really drove me to Eagles Peak, all of it. Frank listened diligently looking more concerned by the minute, at some point Stein joined him. A similarly shocked look was plastered across his face. I swear he was turning white when he answered my question.
“It’s the mark of the Thunderbird, and from what you told us, you met… her in person.”
“So why do you look so worried about it?”
I asked, feeling a little worried.
“Well she’s marked you personally, most people that have that mark would’ve gotten it to show devotion or allegiance and it certainly wouldn’t have come directly from the Thunderbird.”
The way Stein talked about this “Thunderbird” made me think I may be in even deeper shit than I realized.
“So do you two actually know anything about the Thunderbird?”
I asked, hoping these two would know something considering their long study of the supernatural.
“Until recently I only knew of the native legends surrounding the creature. I heard of people marking themselves with that symbol so I assumed there must be some truth to the legends. But neither me nor Frank has ever seen the Thunderbird, much less seen it..er, her take a human form.”
Stein answered, sounding almost disappointed in himself. I got the sense that not knowing something like this really ate at him. Which was just further proven by what he said next, a grin suddenly appearing on his face.
“Frank, I think we have our next big research project on our hands then.”
“I’ll start pulling any records I can find of accounts like Keith’s here.”
Frank said, hurrying over to a computer in the basement corner that looked ancient.
“Yes and compare those to the various legends surrounding the Thunderbird.”
Stein responded, rifling through a row of cabinets against the far wall.
Those two seemed to be whipped into a frenzy by something they knew next to nothing about being dropped in their laps.
“Guys… Guys! Can we hold off on going full mad scientist mode for just a second I’ve got one more thing to ask!”
I yelled trying to get their attention. when they turned to me I could see the spark in both their eyes as they hastily responded in unison.
“Yes, what!”
“Have either of you heard about a mine in this town? Tuck at “Eagle’s Roost” mentioned it but I don’t remember seeing anything about it when I looked into this town.”
“Ah the mine, it’s out in the forest north of town somewhere. There was a collapse or something a few years after it opened and the town covered it up. It would’ve been very embarrassing for them to admit the screw up so they just… didn’t, that’s all there is too it.”
Frank answered, seemingly bothered by the mundaneness of that question.
“So the mine is still out there then?”
“Of course! What did you think it just walked away? No, leave us be we’ve got work to do.”
Stein snapped.
As I left the two to their business and made my way out of the house I ran into Rocco, several grimy batteries grasped in his paws.
“They uh… I don’t think they’ll need those batteries anymore bud.”
“God damnit! That’s what I get for trying to be helpful.”
Rocco yelled, as he threw the batteries against the wall. I had to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Here I was walking past a talking raccoon on his way down to two scientists looking into a Thunderbird. That’s a real thing that’s currently happening to me. Just a few days ago simply seeing Rocco knocked me out almost immediately and now he was just a minor inconvenience. Could it be that I was actually adjusting to all the crazy things that had been happening around me? I sure thought so.
Upstairs, Bianca was still nose deep in her book at the kitchen table.
“Hey can I ask you something?”
“Yeah sure, what is it?”
“Ever been into the woods around town? There’s something I want to check out there.”
“I don’t usually leave the house all that much if I’m honest.”
Bianca answered, a touch of sadness in her voice.
“Do you want too? Leave the house I mean.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Well, I’m going to be headed out there tomorrow looking for the old mine.”
“And why are you looking for that?”
She questioned suspiciously.
“I have a feeling it has something to do with the mark that woman… and I forgot I didn’t tell you about that.”
Bianca looked up at me as she said with a smirk.
“I knew there was more to that story from the other night. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I’ll spare you the details but needless to say I told the story again. I really need to start bringing everyone together when I do these things, it would save me time.
“So that’s why you came here, and you think this mine has something to do with it?”
Bianca exclaimed excitedly. I could almost see the lightbulb going off over her head.
“Yeah that’s pretty much it, do you want to come with? I mean you don’t have to go but I”
She cut me off,
“You know what maybe I should go. Two sets of eyes gives us better odds right? And you have a bad history with forgotten places I seem to recall.”
Bianca said with a coy smile.
“That’s what we’ll do then, I’ll get some things ready and stop by tomorrow, we’ll leave from there.”
And before she had a chance to rethink her answer I left feeling pleased with myself.
My next stop was the hardware store on the other side of town. Of course I still had my travel bag from the good old Imalone trip but I figured I’d pick up some more tools that could come in handy.. I ended up with two heavy duty flashlights, some work gloves of various sizes cause I had no idea what size would fit Bianca, and a set of bolt cutters. It was only when I got up to the counter and the clerk gave me the stink eye that I noticed my mistake.
“You planning to break into something kid?”
Questioned the older guy cashing me out. I responded before my brain caught up with my mouth.
“I was planning on it but you guys didn’t sell balaclavas. So I guess I’ll have to wait.”
The man eyed me for a second then burst out laughing as he handed me my things. Which was good because I knew a few places back in Wisconsin where pulling that would’ve got me pulled into a backroom for questioning. Not a lot of people knew how to take a joke back home. Weirdly enough it was the first time I thought of home since coming here. Obviously I had family back there but we weren’t exactly close like I said before. I just found myself missing the familiarity of the area I had lived in for the past 24 years of my life. I think that’s why I came to the decision to call my mother when I got home later that night.
The whole walk home I had this strange feeling of being watched. No-one was there, I’m sure because I checked… several times. But even as I locked the door to my house and starting sorting out a bag of supplies for Bianca, the feeling didn’t go away. As I pulled out my phone to call my mother the feeling finally faded into the background as I got her familiar answering machine.
“Hi, you’ve reached Carla, leave your name and number after the tone.”
Straight and to the point as quickly as possible, that was the best way to describe mom and it showed even in her answering machine.
“Hi mom I bet you’re wondering where I ended up. Well I’m in New York now, in a sleepy little town. Its nice really, I already met some new people they’re… well they’re a bit strange but I think I might fit in with them. I’m still looking for a job but I had a really well paying temp thing the other day so I’ll be fine for a little while. Anyways, hope you’re doing well, love you.”
I teared up a bit as I ended the call, I hadn’t called my mother in at least a year. She never checked up on me and I never checked in with her. We’d see each other at family gatherings and talk but outside of that I didn’t really contact her much anymore. It was sort of a mutual agreement that we both had, we assumed the other was alright. But being this far from Wisconsin, this far from home, had finally caught up with me. I wanted to at least hear her voice, even if it was just a recording.
As I finished up packing for tomorrow I was quite proud of myself. I’d thought of just about everything, I dug some old hiking boots out for myself and some rope from my old travel bag. Several different sets of flint and steel and about three days worth of dehydrated food adorned the top pocket of both bags. I’d even found an old water purification kit that ended up in one of the duffle bags I brought from my apartment. In short, I was the most over prepared for an excursion like this I’d ever been. It did help push back the eyes I felt peering at me from somewhere over my shoulder, the feeling of being watched still not leaving me. Once I laid down and tried to fall asleep the feeling only intensified. Sounds of rolling thunder in the distance reminding me of my time in Imalone and the fury of the storm the Thunderbird brought. I felt strangely confident as well though, tomorrow Bianca and I may finally start to uncover some answers as to why I felt called to this town, and maybe even what this mark could mean for me.

Back in 2016, I was working at a roadside diner west of St. Cloud, Minnesota. Neat little place, had a bit of a 60’s vibe to it, but without the hairdo. On the slow hours of the day, or whenever we just had locals around, I’d be humming along with the chefs playing radio out of the kitchen. It wasn’t an exciting time, but it was nice to have a workplace that felt like a second home.
A couple of weekends a month, we had an all-night crew to serve passing truckers. You usually never had to do more than one shift though, and we got to make own schedules. Our boss was pretty hands-off. It was during one of those shifts, at the first week of early summer, that my life took a turn for the worse – and I didn’t even realize it.

We were used to having the occasional odd customer during those hours of the day. When this guy walked in, I didn’t know what to think. He was about 6’2, bald, and pale as chalk. He wore this worn-out t-shirt that looked like it’d been on fire. With every step, he dragged his feet, and collapsed in one of our booths, seemingly exhausted.
I looked back at the chef, and he just shrugged. Guy wasn’t hurting anyone, but he didn’t look like he was all there. But a job’s a job, so I went up to him.
“You alright there?” I asked.
He looked up at me like I was speaking a foreign language, then sunk his head back down, gently shaking it.
“Nah,” he said. “I, uh… I don’t think I am.”
He had this voice on the knife’s edge between a hysterical laugh and a howling cry. He was trembling.
“You need me to call someone?”
“Call?”
“Yeah, call someone.”
“How?”

I didn’t understand the question. I figured he was coming down from some kind of binge, and I wasn’t about to take any chances. I asked the chef to get me a side of bacon to keep the guy calm while I called the police.
As I slid the plate over to him, he sunk his face into his hands, sobbing.
“T-thank you,” he cried. “I-I’m… please…”
I sat down across from him, instinctively reaching out to grab his hand. He let me. Even at a light touch, I could feel the scars on his palm and fingertips. Whatever’d happened to him, it must’ve been awful.
“I can’t go back,” he sniffled. “Don’t make me go back. I can’t. Please, I can’t.”
“You’re not going anywhere. It’s okay,” I smiled. “You’re safe here.”
“Can you help me?” he asked. “Can you keep him out?”
“I’m sure we can figure it out,” I nodded. “Just eat up. It’s okay.”

His fingers trembled as he tentatively bit off a piece of bacon. His teeth were black, and he flinched.
“I need time,” he said. “I need time to run.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “We’ve called for help.”
“I just… I just need time.”
We just sat there for a while. He calmed his breathing but kept staring out the window. I could tell he was looking for something – or someone. All I could see was a road and a handful of moths. We sat there for some time, in silence, as he carefully nibbled on the slices of maple bacon.
As two police officers entered the diner, he got up from his seat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle of scrunched-up trash. A couple of singles, a plastic card, dirt, and something resembling animal bones. He tried to straighten out the bills, pushing them into my hands along with the laminated card.
“Just… I need time. I’ll come back. Please.”
I didn’t understand. I just nodded and accepted it. Seconds later, the officers asked him to step outside and explain the situation. I got busy taking orders from a couple of passing truckers, watching glimpses of the scene through the window. A couple of minutes later, the strange man was taken away.

My shift ended at sunrise. I dragged myself to my car with a yawn, shuffling around my pockets for the keys. I hadn’t thought much about the items he’d handed me, but I took a closer look. I’d thrown away the animal bones and dirt, but there were a couple of dollar bills and that laminated card left. I checked the card first.
It looked like some kind of bookmark. On one side it was completely white, and on the other side there were dried blue flower petals arranged in a spiral. Kinda reminded me of a sunflower. And finally, there were the dollar bills.
I didn’t pay much attention to these at first. Just a couple of singles. But after a closer look, I noticed something unusual. There was a man on the bill that I didn’t recognize. It took me a couple of google searches to realize that this man was Walter Mondale – the man who’d lost to Ronald Reagan’s second run for president back in ’84. Why was this man on a one-dollar bill?

Before heading to bed, I put the items down on my nightstand. In a moment of silent wonder, I looked out the window. What had that man been looking for? What’d he been running from?
There was nothing out there.
Just a couple of moths.

Waking up the next morning, I had a full day off. I spent it cleaning my apartment, watching movies, having dinner with a couple of friends, and ending the night with a couple of drinks at the pub down on the corner. No binge or anything, just got a bit boozy. I was still gonna be in bed by midnight.
I took the scenic route home; a long walk. All the way down main street, past the lake. I took a shortcut through the park by the final stretch, speeding up a bit. That place was trouble.
As I hurried by the fountain, I spotted someone in the distance. A shrouded figure at the edge of the streetlights. I stopped to observe for a second, but as I did, the lights flickered. Coming back on, the figure was gone.
I chalked it up to imagination. I was a bit drunk, after all. Besides – it was small, like a child. What the hell would a kid be doing out at this hour?

A couple of days passed. I didn’t notice anything unusual, but I kept coming back to that distressing feeling of missing something important. Looking back at it now, I just feel dumb. He was there all along. Outside the supermarket. In the parking lot. Off the highway. Hell, he was outside my window at night sometimes, but just too short for me to spot.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
It wasn’t until one morning when I was driving to work that I got a clear view of him. I was crossing a four-way street, taking a sharp left turn, when I had to throw myself on the breaks. There was a kid in the middle of the street.
I hadn’t seen him that clearly before. He was probably around 6, maybe 7 years old. Wearing a plain black shirt and a pair of light blue canvas pants. Short black hair, dark eyes, and no shoes. That particular detail stuck with me. No shoes? Why?
I almost lost control, but I was lucky. There wasn’t much traffic, and I managed to stop further down the road. There were black lines in the pavement from my screeching tires swerving back and forth. Regaining my composure, I looked in the rear-view mirror.
The kid was gone.

But that was just the start.
I’d spot him every now and then. Looking out the window at work. At the gas station. A passing face in the crowd when shopping for groceries. Every now and then, something would pull on my attention, forcing me to whip my head around, looking for the source of that ill feeling crawling up my spine. Sometimes I saw him. And even worse – sometimes I didn’t.
I remember lying awake at night, hearing moths tap against my window. There was nothing else. Nothing outside. I patrolled my apartment six times, checking every window. I’d looked everywhere, and there was no reason for me to feel the way I did. I was growing paranoid.
And yet, in the morning, my front door was unlocked, and slightly open.

It all came to a head one afternoon when I was out on my smoke break. I’d barely slept for the past three nights, and you could kinda tell I was having a bad day. As I stood there, leaning against the side door of the diner, I see the kid again. This time just across the road, maybe 50 feet or so away. I’d had enough. This had to end.
I was furious. I stormed forward, calling him out with every slur and curse I could think of. I was psyching myself up. I was in the right, and I refused to be harassed anymore – kid or not. Didn’t matter. I crossed the road, barely dodging a speeding jeep, and met him face-to-face.
“What the hell do you want?!” I’d yell. “Why are you following me?!”
He was completely expressionless. He didn’t even flinch, no matter how much I pointed or screamed. I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, and he didn’t even blink. He just stared at me, like a porcelain doll head on a swivel.

I wasn’t thinking about the bystanders though. A couple of middle-aged men stepped up, asking in no kind terms what the hell was wrong with me. I was held back and restrained. Someone called the police. Someone else called my manager – I’d forgotten to take off my apron, so they could see the diner logo. A couple of people filmed it. One of the videos got like 120k views in a day before it fell off the map. I still see it as a react gif sometimes.
It was a disaster. After a couple of officers came by to talk to me, he’d just disappeared into thin air. The officers took me down to the station – not to detain me, but to get me away from the heated crowd. That car ride downtown sobered me up to what the hell was going on. I was being stalked by this kid, but there wasn’t a living soul out there that would believe me.
Well, maybe one.
Maybe.

I was asked a couple of questions and released within about half an hour. They told me to go home and sleep this whole thing off. That wouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t have a job to go back to anyway, according to the (many) texts I’d gotten. I had all the goddamn time in the world.
I was just about to leave when something came to mind. The two officers who’d picked me up were still waiting by their car when I turned back to them.
“Sorry, you picked up the guy I called in about at the diner, right?” I asked.
“Sure did.”
“You got any idea what happened to him?”
The two looked at one another for a moment, shrugged, and turned to me.
“Didn’t have any ID and gave a fake name. I think they took him to psych.”
“Psych?”
“Well, he was saying some, uh… strange things. There were interviews with a, uh…”
The two quieted down and flashed me a smile.
“There’s not that much we can say.”

Coming home, I decided to get to the root of this. It didn’t take me that long to find the place where the guy’d been taken; there aren’t a lot of mental health facilities in this part of the country. Especially facilities that accept involuntary subjects.
But my eyes kept drifting back to the strange dollar bills he’d given me, resting neatly on my nightstand. They were so detailed. A bit old, sure, but that only made them seem more genuine. What the hell was he doing with a handful of clearly fake dollar bills? Like, what’s the purpose? There had to be a purpose.
That unnerved me.

I managed to arrange a meeting. It wasn’t easy, and I think a lot of it boiled down to the police having no idea what could make this guy talk. For some reason, he kept providing them with false information. Maybe a familiar face, for one reason or another, might make him talk.
Just a couple of days later, I was putting my items in a metal bowl on the second floor at a mental health institute in the next town over. I asked one of the nurses if I could keep one of my dollar bills. Apparently, that was okay.
I was shuffled through a couple of locked doors and escorted to an off-white side-room. No décor, no locks. The guy was already there.

He’d been dressed down into these neutral eggshell-white garbs. It was strange seeing him in a lit-up room like this. I didn’t know what to expect.
Getting a closer look at him, he was probably in his 50’s. It’d been hard to tell earlier. I couldn’t get over just how pale he was; it was almost a complete lack of pigment. It looked sickly. His thin arms didn’t help – he looked malnourished. And yet, he was smiling.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello to you too,” I smiled. “You doing okay?”
“I’m… I’m pretty good,” he nodded. “Thank you.”
I sat down across from him and took out the dollar bill he’d given me.
“I wanted to ask you about this.”
“For the bacon,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, was that not enough?”
“No, it’s…”
I took a moment to compose myself. I had too many questions.

He sighed, took the bill, and looked it over. Looking back at me, I could tell there was something painful stirring in his mind. His smile slowly faded.
“Sorry,” he said. “I try to forget sometimes. It’s easier than making sense of it.”
“Let’s start with something simple,” I nodded. “Like… your name. Where you’re from.”
“Those things are pretty far from simple.”
He was looking straight through me; his eyes sinking back to deeper, more uncomfortable thoughts.

His name was Samuel, and he was born around these parts in back in the 1970’s. He’d worked as a telecommunications specialist out of St. Cloud back in the 90's. He had a wife, three children, and a four-bedroom house.
“But it… that was all before, see?” he explained. “Then it all just…”
“Just what?” I asked. “What happened?”
He looked at me, opening and closing his mouth, looking for the right words to come out. Nothing happened. He shook his head, trying again.
“It started with the street preachers,” he said. “Hundreds of them, marching on every city. All saying the same doomsday shit as always. World was dying. All coming to an end.”
“I haven’t seen anything like that.”
“Then there were storms,” he continued without skipping a beat. “Some would last for weeks. Others longer. Entire cities would be flooded or torn apart. Earthquakes causing monster waves along the east coast, sending shockwaves all the way to mainland Europe. Then, Yellowstone.”
“Yellowstone?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Lights out.”

Samuel was painting this apocalyptic vision of a world undone. Catastrophe after catastrophe. Hooded people marching the streets, screaming for the mercy of a mad god. But there was more to it.
“Then things stopped making sense. It’s as if the rules changed,” he continued. “Roads would stop leading home. Trees would change color. People turned twisted and corrupted. Like… one of our neighbors couldn’t eat anything but gunpowder. There was a woman just down the street who tried to kill anyone wearing glasses. It was… pandemonium.”
I didn’t say anything. What he was saying didn’t make any sense, but he was trying his best to keep his rambling coherent.
“The plants died. Trees too. The only thing that could grow in that environment were these twisted blue things that popped up out of nowhere. But people… people are what got twisted the most.”
He told me of these towering 7-foot-tall humanoid creatures that roamed the forests. Black as night – not even reflecting light. Arms reaching all the way to their knees. Elongated, inhuman things that all used to be someone he knew.

“The doomsayers all said the same thing,” he continued. “That God was a scared little boy, and that he was dying. Everything that was happening was just an expression of that ceaseless, bottomless, existential grief.”
Samuel looked back and forth, finally burying his face in his hands.
“It all broke down. Roads stopped leading anywhere. No power. No water. Julie changed. Ollie changed. Tobie made himself a mask and wandered off into the woods. Ira just… disappeared. And for… years? Has it been years? It’s just been me.”
“But you’re here, now,” I said. “And what you’re describing, it… it didn’t happen.”
“It happened,” he insisted. “Just not… here. But here.”
He tapped his finger on the single dollar bill.
“Somewhere, somehow, I must’ve taken a wrong turn. I slipped through something broken, and now I’m here. And… and he’s coming to bring me back. He doesn’t want anyone to leave.”
“Who?”
“Just! Just…” he chuckled. “Just a sad little boy who’s been told he’s going to die.”
I didn’t know what to say. I just sat with him for a while, holding his hand.

Before I left, Samuel got up from his chair. He looked at me, forcing himself to smile.
“If I go back, I’ll try not to… to be like them. I’ll try. And… and I’ll be the one to say something.”
He let out a painful little laugh, shaking his head.
“Maybe just a… hello.”

I left that day with more questions than answers. I couldn’t picture the world he’d lived through. Then again, how could it be true? None of it had happened. But what was he gaining from lying about it?
That was the last time I saw Samuel. A few days later, he went missing, as if he’d disappeared into thin air. I didn’t know what to think of it. There was nothing on the cameras – no one entering or leaving the building. No quick escapes, no clever plans. He’d just walked into his room and disappeared. Nothing left but a couple of moths fluttering about.
And for a while, that was it. That was the end of the story. I got busy looking for a new job, and all the little items given to me by Samuel was put away into a little box in my glove compartment. Life soldiered on, and no matter how many questions I had, there was no one around to answer them. Even the strange kid that’d been following me was, seemingly, gone.

A couple of months later, I was driving home from a friend’s place. I stopped at a four-way street, waiting for a couple of trucks to pass, when there was a knock on the passenger side window. I almost choked on my own spit. Scared me half to death.
Looking out, I could see that kid again. I hadn’t seen him for some time, and I quickly bounced between curiosity and downright anger.
“What do you want?” I yelled out.
There was no response. Instead, the door just opened. It’d been locked. As he opened the door, he pointed to the glove box.
“You want his things?” I asked. “Is that it?”
He nodded. I wanted to lash out, but there was something telling me I shouldn’t. Instead, I reached over, opened the glove compartment, and pointed to the box.
“Just take it and leave me alone,” I said. “Get it over with.”

He reached in and grabbed the box. So much effort for a couple of mementos. I turned my head back to face the road. The kid backed out. But of course, I had to get the last word in.
“Not even a thank you, huh?”
That made him pause. He looked at me, tilting his head. As he opened his mouth to speak, a moth fluttered out. Then another. And another.
Then – darkness.

What happened next is hard to describe. My memory of it is fragmented. It’s like trying to watch a buffering video, where long stretches of it are just nothing – but you know something was supposed to happen in-between.
Blink. I was sitting in my car. There was a dark blue sky. No clouds, no stars. Figures in the distance. An open field with blue flowers bending to a howling wind. A powerful stench of ammonia stinging my nostrils. Something to my immediate left, ripping the car door straight off the hinges.
Blink. Running. Ruins of a town. It seemed familiar, but there was barely anything left. My leg was bleeding. I was being followed. No matter where I turned, or where I ran, I seemed to end up at the same intersection.
Blink. A three-story building, brimming with life. Glimpses of arm-long antennae through the broken windows. Clickety-clack of bursting wings tapping against crumbling concrete. A loud warning shriek as something rubs its legs together; a call for prey.
Blink. Hiding in a tipped-over trash container. The rain has stopped in mid-air. Raindrops held in indefinite suspension. I suck water drops out of the air to quench my thirst. My hands are shaking from the blood loss.

Countless little images. Some in order, some not. I have no idea how much time passed. In the moment, it must’ve been much longer than I can remember. Days. Weeks, even. There’s no way to tell.
Blink. Walking through a barren field. It feels like walking through a dead forest, but there are no trees. Only those willingly impaled and wailing.
Blink. An abandoned booth by a broken highway. A sign offers phone calls, in exchange for “real teeth”. There are six sizes of pliers hanging on a wall within. All are bloodied – even the small ones.
Blink. The church that had burned down the night before had reappeared. The people inside, too. They couldn’t leave. Tonight, they would burn again.

Somewhere in this nightmarish puzzle-pieced fragment of nothing, there was a constant drive in me to get away. To get out. I knew that if I’d gotten there, I could get back home again. I just had no idea how. Maybe finding the kid. Asking. Begging. Something.
The last fragment of memory from that space was being cornered in a cellar. They were banging on the door. I’d tipped over a wardrobe to keep them out, but they weren’t going to stop. They were never going to stop. I couldn’t let them kill me again – not like that.
One of the Changed ones were coming. I don’t know what that means, or how I know the name, but I knew of it. There was a mirror, and I could see the signs. It stepped out. Seven feet tall, black as night. Elongated arms and neck. Barely a body at all – just a void space vaguely shaped like the remnants of a person.
Except this one felt… familiar. It was the first one to speak.
“H E L L O.”

Blink. Running. A cold hand. If I squeezed too hard, my fingers went straight through it. I had to keep up. He was showing me something.
Blink. They were flooding over the school bus, tipping it by their sheer numbers. Eruptions from the sewer grates. They were famished.
Blink. An open field. Sunflowers facing me, no matter where I turn. It’s not far.
Blink. I look back, as I’m pushed over the edge. He looks just like the rest of them. They aren’t angered by his betrayal.
They feel nothing, as I fall.

In February of 2017, I was found by the side of the road. I’d been gone for months. My car was too. I came back with nothing but the clothes on my back and countless scars. I’ve been told that I didn’t make any sense at first; I was just rambling nonsense. Or maybe it just sounded like nonsense to these people.
Over time, I forgot more and more of these fragmented images. And the less I remember, the more I can move on. Still, I’ve written them down over time, and they paint an ugly, insane picture of what I’d been going through. Some of which I, myself, have a hard time believing. Then again, I know myself well enough to see that there’s no point in lying.

I haven’t seen Samuel, or that strange kid ever since. I think this is all over, for now. There’s nothing left for me to give.
But even now, years later, I still wake up to that feeling at night. That there’s something wrong, or that I’m forgetting something. That there’s something near that I’m looking straight through, or past.
And every now and then, I hear the flutter of a moth’s wing, tapping against my bedroom window.
And I think I know what it wants.
It wants me to go back.

SYNOPSIS: Walking your OP monster girlfriend home is easy. No one messes with you. Getting back to your house on your own? That's the tricky part.
What's worse than an eldritch building? How 'bout a bigger one?
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Chapter Cover Art (From Mood Writing Sample)
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Norman took one look at the towering building to his left. Then he took off.
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“̷̵̵̷̶̷̶̶̸̶̶̸̴̡̛̮͉̹̪̼̙̤̲̤͔̗̮̥̣̜͓̟̞̃̔̈́̑̈̍͌̂̂̐̋͛̉̓G̵̶̸̷̴̸̵̵̴̶̸̷̸̴̶̨̢̧̞͈̠̜̳̪͎̬̜̱̫͚̝̩̑̒͐́͆̃̿̉̆̉̃̓̀̎̐͂̎̒̕̕͘͝͝Ǵ̷̷̷̴̸̸̷̷̷̷̵̨̢̞̥͓̰͖͙̰̝͖̩̺͍͎͉͌̽̂́͐̓̀͒̐͗́M̴̷̶̵̴̷̵̶̵̴̷̷̢̡̧̢̛̫̲͕͇̗̯͚̥͙͓͓̀̒͑͒̂̊̅̐͛̂̄͌̈̚͝M̴̷̶̵̴̷̷̶̷̬̼̭̗͍̺̳̩̱͍̂̄̾͂̔̽̇̀͝͝͝͠M̶̯̙̥͕̞̰̗̗͐̔!̸̞̞̬̼̖̩̈́̇͊͐̾͑͋̉!̷̧͈̘̬̆͑͝!̶̤̜̔̓̆̅̔͆͘͝”̸̨̧̼̭̫̒͜

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The new hunting cry boomed through his body. It was much louder than the first building’s, albeit shorter, like a tap on the shoulder from a titan proclaiming its presence to the world.
Of course, the tap of a titan could flatten a man.
Norman fell. His legs had simply stopped working. Jaws clenched, he forced his will into wobbly muscles. His palms slammed into the waterlogged street, stopping the fall. With a sharp push, he sprang back to his feet and ran on.
Norman yanked out the remaining two flash grenades on the go, strung them together, armed and drew back for a throw.
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“̷̬̳̙̍̎̆G̴̥͇̥͔͕̫̈̀M̵̛͇̜͙͇̫͔̭̩̝̜̓̈̏̓̓̀͛̚͜͝͝M̷̩͈͉̘͙̿͌̃̽͂̃̏̏̓̾̈́͌̈́̉̅̄̉͘!̷̢̧̢̤͓̭̖̝̏̏̄̓̾̉̆͋͘͝!̵͍̱̼̮̯̺̲͙̖̮̗͓̻̓̊͂̒̔͐̎͘͘̚!̵̙͍̟̌͒̃͂̎͠”̶̡̛̠̱̭̞̹̟͉̒̎̎̂͂̐̈́̓̄̚̕

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That quick boom pounded through him. His fingers faltered. The flash grenades slipped from his grip and fell. He was still recovering from the sound when they went off at his feet. The nightsight filtered the flash, so he didn’t go blind. He’d gutted the flash grenade’s speakers, so he didn’t go deaf. The peeping building could deafen him all on its own … no, this wasn’t a peeping building. He’d slew a peeping building. They were small fries by comparison.
This was an eyescraper.
Tentacles the width of busses unsheathed from its sides. Even if he’d managed to launch the grenades and bathe it in smitelight, he suspected that wouldn’t be enough.
Norman sliced at its eyes with a focused beam. It barely flinched. Maybe if it got close enough, he could affect it a bit. By then, it would be too late.
Throbbing chuffs thundered from the monster. It sounded like a laugh.
Norman shot it a defiant glare. He bolted. Not fast enough. He could feel the giant closing in. So, he moved faster. Then faster, and still faster. His muscles blared their warnings. Rain lashed his face. He felt the air begin to resist his movements as he reached a speed at which it mattered. It was in his way, so he pushed through it too. No one was there to tell him he was moving far faster than any human known to history. All he cared about was hearing that thing fall behind him, and so it did. The tremours of its tremendous movements grew fainter.
At the end of the street, an apartment building came into view. Norman threw himself against it, climbing with the reckless abandon of a madman. He was halfway to the top.
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“̷̧̨̭̹̘̥̮͖̤̻̥̬̌̀͒̔͌̊̀̚͜͜͠Ǧ̶̨̨̧̺̘̰̗̘̥̝̗̦̩͖͎͋̈͑͐̒̽̉̔͛̾̒́̕ͅM̴̨̉́̾̉͂͆̔̿̀̃̇̎̍͆̂̽͗̔͘͠ͅM̷̝̻̱̆̍͜!̴̮̬̯̮̦̖́͂̆͋̿̇̎̄̄̅̂͑̎̀̕͘͝͝͝!̸̲͎̲̼̠̮̱͖̥̭̤̩͓̘̜͈̟̖̮̰̦͖̀̂͗͂̽̈́̋͌͂̐̓̈̕!̸̜̆̿̋̔̽̕”̷̢̦̜̰̼̳̝͓̆͗̈́̆̆̑̃̾͑̀͗͒͆́͐͒̈́̿̽̕̕͜

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His grip went limp. He fell. Struck the ground. His head bounced. The world grew fu...z z y.
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W
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w
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h
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_CHAT

• LEMMY.OUTA.HERE: (Stupse) Well, he ded.
• BAJANETTE11: ARN74, JUST GO AND FIND HIM!!!
• ARN74: HE DIDN’T SEND ME DE PIN! DIS BAAARE STRESS! NORMAN, YOU PUNK! YOU EMOTIONALLY INVESTED ME IN THIS CHANNEL! IF YOU DIE NOW I’M GONNA KILL YOU!

Something was yapping in the background, but it wasn’t important. He felt fine. Everything was fine. Why not rest? Why was he even-?

_CHAT

• ARN74: YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULDN’T LEAVE AMY!!

What? No he didn’t! Promises weren’t for trolls! Why would he leave Amy anyway?
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“̸̼͔̖̜̫͍͚̊́̽͆̓̂̋̋͐̕Ģ̴̢͕͉̯̺̗̖͔͙̪͓̻̯̫̭̙̱͕̠̭̩̌M̸̨̧̘̟̹̖̻̲͍̭͓͉̰͙̦̣̜͉̻̎̅͗̇̈́̈̏͌̓̾̀̈̈́͜M̵̢̢̖̯̦͍͕̝̯̥̹̪̠̥̰̝̖̊͛̀̇͜!̵̢̡̡͚͕̘̟͕̥̦̪͆̈́̿͆!̴̛̹͈̜̥͔̬͎̪̩͚̦̯̟̘̩̰̳̍̑̂́̌͌̎́̒͋̽̿̑͌͝͝!̴̛̥͕̪͂̂̂̈̓͆͗̇̄̈́̌̅̎͂̕̚̕͝͠”̷̧̧̛̠̝̰̞̘͙̥̖͎̭̞̜̳̟̓͆̌̊̃̔́͒͋̇̈́͘̚͠͝ͅ
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Oh, right. There was a skyscraper running him down. To think he lived in a world where that made any sense. He rubbed his throbbing head. It was hard to think, though.

_CHAT

• ARN74: TRY AN CLIMB DE TING OPPA!

Brain fog would have to wait.
In two twos he jumped onto the side of the building and kept going up and up without breaking the momentum of the leap. Adrenaline had challenged gravity. Gravity lost. There was no pause to assess handholds. There was no rain stinging his face. In his mind, there was only ‘CLIMB, CLIMB, CLIMB!’ Crest the rooftop. ‘RUN, RUN, RUN!’ Descend the other side ‘JUMP!’ Gravity greedily reclaimed Norman, dragging him 4 storeys down at breakneck speed. He hit the ground in a parkour roll. Bruised a bone. Nearly fractured a shoulder. Wrenched his spine. Joints, muscle, ligaments almost popped. They didn’t.
He was running again.
Norman had never heard a building shred like paper. He’d never thought to wonder what it sounded like.
*( ( BMMM! ) ) ( ( BMM! ) ) ( ( BOOM! ) ) \*

SHHHHHRRRRRRMMMM!

Now he knew.
Those booms … was it the eyescraper’s tentacles breaking the sound barrier, or punching holes through the apartment building? Maybe both. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was tearing the building in two with the ease of one parting curtains. Buildings were not designed to be parted. Two became legions as the sundered building collapsed.
Norman rushed for an abandoned truck, slid beneath the trailer. Not quite fast enough. Most of the rubble didn’t reach him directly, but upon hitting the ground? It pulverised into a blast of cloud like a sandstorm. Hissing beneath the trailer, the dust stung at his ankles. He ignored it, racing for the truck’s cabin at the front. Perched on the step beneath the door, he braced as the dust raced beneath, around and above him. The cabin was his shield. He flinched to a duck when its windows shattered as the dust cloud blasted straight through them. The truck rocked and slid slightly, bombarded by wind and dust. It lurched as a chunk of debris finally reached it, crumpling the trailer like cheap foil.
Time to move.
Particles prickled Norman’s eyes, finding their way through the nightsight. He took a fresh glimpse of the path ahead before clouds of grey engulfed it all.
Memorised.
He dashed on. A split second later, the cabin was levelled under a larger slab of concrete. More sporadically thundered down around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, denying entry to any more particles. He scrambled through the street, dodging obstacles from memory. As for the concrete rainfall that couldn’t be seen? He had some prayers about that, but it probably came out like half-baked gibberish.
Norman chanced opening his eyes. They watered like crazy. At least most of the dust was gone. Behind him, the eyescraper’s menacing silhouette was picking through the rubble. Finally, an unblocked street was in sight. He rounded the corner.
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“̵̨̢̮͕̻̲̺́͠G̵̣̒́̓̽̅̊͘͝Ọ̷̝̣͓͙͔̀ͅͅǪ̷̜̺͚̲̯̭̈́̍͂͑̋̋̅͂̅́M̷̨̤̭͈̯̤͋̾̏̈̅̉̀̏͘M̵̡̢̙̱͌̊̓͒́͌Ḿ̸̳͗̀̀͐͒͗́͠ͅ!̷͍͉̣̪̫͙̳̲̤̎̀̾̅̈́̔̎̑͘͜͝͝!̴̨͈͖̘̖̅͛̋̽͠!̸͎̩͓̫̥̼̫̊”̵̫̗̞̣̝̃̅̕͘͜͜͝ͅ
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Another peeping building, rumbling in from the new street. Alright. Straight it was.
.
“̷̢̧̻̹͚͔̾G̵̳̭̾̃̎̍̌̂̈́̂͛͘M̶̧̠͇͔͚͉̮͈̰͒͊́̏̔̄̾̊͐̒͂͜M̸̳͓̋͋̔͑̔̔̕͝Ő̷͓̟̱̮͓̍̂̾̽̇͘͠Ô̸̧̫͉̮͚̥̥̯̈̾͋̅͂͘̚M̶̢̫̥̰̮̪͙̬̙̗̺̽͒͐͌̋̈̄͆͝M̴̢̧̧̛̗͔͓̫̭̳̱͑̉!̵̡̛̛͍̲̓̅̑̈́̿̏͘̕͠!̸̧̖͔̣̩̏́͋̀͛͂̏̀̇̑͐!̴̧͕̝̮̤̱͈̬͋”̸͓̉̈́̑̎͊̌
.
Maybe not. A third building emerged from the rainfall ahead. All streets blocked. He glanced about. All alleys still blocked. This really was a hunting net, but this much energy for a tiny human? Predators weren’t usually like this.
He ran for the nearest building that wasn’t occupied by eldritch calamari.

( ( BOOMM! ) )

The eyescraper’s tentacle crossed his path. Its supersonic shockwave sent him flying.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Norman came to. Rain poured against his face as he lay on his back. How long was he out? Why was it so cold? The atmosphere didn’t quite feel right. It didn’t look right either. Something about the colours, or subtle lack thereof. Everything seemed a bit desaturated. Norman sat up and coughed his lungs out, evicting a mix of dust and rain water collected in his slackly gaping mouth. Buildings towered above him on every side, a bit too close for comfort.
.

“̸̮̼͍̻̯̲̹͓̬̻̓̍G̷̛̖̙̰̰̟̓Ḿ̸̧̨͊̊̔͒͌̆͆͘͠͝M̷̧̺̏̿̆͑͆͋̅͌̕͝G̵̰̺͇̺̯̲͇̠͖͂͜M̸̡̨͕̹̗̥̎͑́̾!̸͇͙͚̝̩͕̙̒!̵͙̬̮̪̏̍!̶͔̪͉̙̘̃̐̄͝”̶̡̡̥̫̻̝̜̫͙̩͛ͅ

.
Oh, right, those weren’t just buildings.
Norman raised a finger, gesturing to wait. “Could you *kaff!* quit subwoofin’ at me for, like, ten seconds!”
“Plucky.̵͚͐͝ for all seasons I .̵̦̺͐̅see,” came a skin-crawling voice from behind him.
Norman swung back his smitelight. It barely moved half a foot, then it stopped. Rather, something stopped it. That ‘something’ was cold. So cold. His wrist felt the chill without even touching it.
Norman turned, slowly, so as not to trigger further attacks. He found himself looking up.
Eight feet tall. Dark grey skin. A grin that went a little too wide. Dagger teeth. An open-chested jacket, revealing sinewy muscles with luminous markings like tattoos. His ebony eyes bore penetrating white pupils. Of all his traits, the dreadlocks stood out most. They belonged in a nightmare, dancing through the air with a life of their own. Somehow, they looked blacker than black, absorbing every ray of light or heat that came their way. That icy chill in the air shifted with the movements of his dreadlocks. They seemed to drink life from the air itself. Norman almost found it hard to breathe. One dreadlock clutched Norman’s smitelight, only by the tip, but its grip was iron.
Norman stared the tall man down.
The nyctal’s grin grew by a smidgeon.
Taking a calculated risk, Norman released the smitelight. Perhaps a peace offering would do good.
“Good.̷̧͋͌̎̿ boy,” the tall man nodded, admiring the smitelight as the dreadlock rotated it. “Clever.̴̧̤̩͈͓̖͂ͅ toy.”
Norman noted an understated Jamaican accent in his voice.
More dreadlocks slithered across the smitelight, as if tasting its every nook and cranny.
Norman did his best to look casual as he scanned for an escape route. The eyescraper’s tentacles had wrapped around the street, fencing him in.

_CHAT

• BAJANETTE11: 😳
• DARCIE222: okay, i’m back
• HARD-BACK-M8N: who you is again?
• DARCIE222: i left after the twilight angel sleep paralysis
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: And you’re back for more?
• DARCIE222: wonna know it impossible to stay away from a channel like dis

Norman looked at the tall nyctal again.

_CHAT

• DARCIE222: 😲 WHO IS THAT?!? AND WHY IS HE KIND OF …??? 😍
• MUNSTER-VERSER: I KNOW!!!
• BAJANETTE11: HE LIKE A VAMPIRE RASTA MAN! ❤❤❤
• ENTO_MOLLY: MOVE OVER MIGUEL O’HARA!! 😍🥰😘
• BAJANETTE11: NORMAN ASK FOR HE NUMBER!!!
• NORMAN: I HERE ABOUT TO DIE AND WONNA WANT HE PHONE NUMBER!?!

The nyctal’s eyes shifted to Norman inquisitively. He frowned, raising an eyebrow as the comments piled up. Finally, he smirked mischievously.
“Your fanbase has peculiar tastes,” purred the tall man.

_CHAT

• ENTO_MOLLY: 😳 Is … he talking about us? HE CAN SEE THE CHAT???
• DARCIE222: THE WAY HE SAID IT!!!
• DARCIE222: HBVJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJKL;K''
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Did she just pass out on the keyboard?
• LIKKLE-BOY: lol!
• ARN74: you’re simping. Norman’s about to die, and you’re simping

The tall man handed Norman his smitelight.
Norman’s suspicious gaze flicked between the nyctal and the weapon. Finally, he reached out and took hold of the smitelight.
It crumbled in his fingers like ice-cold ashes. If not for the insulation gloves, he might have gotten frostbite.
The nyctal laughed.
Norman didn’t find it particularly amusing.
The tall man sauntered towards the eyescraper. Beyond it was a darkness even the nightsight had difficulty piercing. He beckoned Norman as if it were an afterthought.
“Please come in, .̵̭̻͌̓̂Norman.̶̲͕͇̅̑̚,” the nyctal instructed.
Norman stared stubbornly, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. He felt for his smartphone. It wasn’t there. When had he lost it?
Without looking back, the nyctal held up Norman’s phone. It disintegrated between his fingers as he rubbed them together.
Norman glared. At least the guy hadn’t pickpocketed deeply enough to find other things.
“Hey. To whom do I owe the … pleasure?” Norman almost had to push the last word through his teeth.
The nyctal stopped in the eyescraper’s doorframe. Shrouded in shadow, little could be seen of him, save the piercing white pupils peering out. Then the glint of his Cheshire grin.
“.̴̜͓̭̻̤̍̈́̆͑͑John Crow.̸̻̮̓̈́̏̓͘,” he answered, before receding into the darkness.
The eyescraper’s tentacles dragged in across the street, corralling Norman towards the building. With an exasperated groan, he trudged towards the main entrance.
“I want my bed,” grumbled Norman.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Become a free member on Patreon to read Part 14, 'Sleeping Giant', early! It will be released there today or tomorrow. For the visual 'mood writing' version (previously called 'artitext') and more Caribbean sci-fi, become a paid member for only $3! See links in comments.
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LOOOONG first time trip report! 5/13-5/18, stayed at Beach Club, visited all four parks, bought Genie+ every day, had the standard DDP. Family of 4, two girls 5 and 9. I learned so much from this group over the past year and especially loved trip reports, so hopefully this post will be helpful to someone!
💲BUDGET💲
-- I booked the trip a year out so I could break it up into 12 manageable payments. I opened the no fee Disney VISA, which gives you several months of no interest on charges made towards Disney travel packages, rewards dollars to use at Disney, and a couple other perks like character meet and greets and discounts.
-- I signed up for Disney Movie Insiders. This is what you're supposed to do with all those little codes that come in Disney DVDs/Blurays. You enter the codes in exchange for points, and at 1000 points, you can redeem for a $10 Disney gift card. You also get points for being subscribed to Disney+, seeing Disney movies in the theater, their social media accounts, and a whole bunch of other things. I got $50 in gift cards from this alone.
-- If you want Disney-themed luggage, try thinking outside the box to save money! I got plain luggage in Mickey colors--red and black--and Mickey luggage tags to make them Disney themed.
-- I tried to budget for souvenirs via gift cards... but I failed, lol. Everything is so expensive, $100 is gone in a second. Plushes are like $40, coffee cups are $20, etc. Whatever you're planning to spend, double it! I get what people say about most shops having the same stuff, but it's definitely not all of them, most of the ones post-ride have unique stuff. And honestly it's kind of nice most of them have the same stuff, if you want to get whatever your kid was asking for earlier, you don't have to walk all the way back to the one shop you saw it at.
-- We paid for Memory Maker and I'm on the fence about it. On the one hand, it's really nice to get all the ride photos and meet and greet photos and magic shots. It's also really nice for the whole family to be in a lot of pictures and not have to swap with the other adult or find someone willing to take your picture. On the other, we definitely didn't utilize it as much as I wanted to because a lot of the photographers had pretty long lines and I just didn't want to spend time waiting for a picture I could take myself. If we came across someone with a shortish or no line, we made sure to get it, but for anyone with a long line, we just stood around the same spot and took our own.
🗓️PLANNING🗓️
-- If you have kids and live within easy driving distance of another amusement park, highly recommend making a visit BEFORE going to Disney to get an idea of how they handle that kind of day/environment, especially if they have never been. I quickly discovered we would absolutely need a stroller and I would need to be militant with the kids about staying hydrated. Also to avoid face paint, as heat + tears + paint + eyes = bad day! I felt so much better making these discoveries beforehand and being able to prepare accordingly, rather than making them at Disney.
-- USE AN AGENT! An agent is free to you, so why not have the help? Ours was amazing, she gave us quotes, booked the package, rebooked as needed later when a better deal came out, made all the payments, dining and extra reservations, and was just all-around awesome to work with. It was such a load off to know I wasn't on my own with all this stuff.
-- Watch everything Ear Scouts. No one explains Genie+ better, and Rob and Erick's videos are just so positive and beautiful and well done.
-- I also enjoyed reading Disney Tourist Blog--lovingly snarky but super informative!--and Disney Food Blog for fun tips and news.
-- I didn't find any park to be a half day park, we filled our whole day in every one and still didn't see everything!
-- My kids did really well, whenever they were on the verge of cranky, we had one ride in the stroller for a while, bought a snack (usually ice cream or popcorn), and used the bubble wand, and/or gave them some ibuprofen, and everyone felt better pretty quick. We never tried to do fireworks, we were all done by 8 so always left after dinner. The only park we closed down was EPCOT because we didn't get out of dinner until after close, and that was a really cool experience, the park was so quiet and empty and beautiful!
-- You don't NEED a Magic Band... but man, was it convenient. We just had 1.0 Magic Bands though, we didn't bother with the 2.0s.
-- I guess moving through security fast is important to people rope dropping... but as someone who didn't, it added like maybe 30 seconds to a minute to the experience the couple times my bag got flagged, it's really not a big deal.
-- I'm not saying anyone's lying about bad experiences or exaggerating or anything, but try to remember that far more people go on the Internet to complain than they do to praise. I got so stressed about all the things that could go wrong, and we had a pretty much perfect trip. The only attraction that broke down on us was Muppetvision, of all things. The only "bad behavior" we witnessed was the morning we were leaving, we could hear a dad across the hall yelling at his family, I think they overslept and were going to miss their flight or something? We just turned the TV on so we didn't have to hear him. A couple times we forgot to take our stuff with us when we parked our stroller or forgot some food in it, and neither people nor animals bothered it. The only dicey thing that happened to us was me dropping my phone into the Dumbo moat, the cast members fished it out and it still worked, I sent them a cast compliment for all their help! All the cast members were great, I'm not really sure what people expect but IMO they all do amazing for having to be peppy and helpful all day in absolutely blazing heat, walking a ride conveyer belt nonstop, repeating the same spiels over and over, meeting person after person, etc. I wouldn't last a 2 hour shift let alone 8. Cast members, you rock!!!
✈️TRAVEL✈️
-- We flew Delta, flight there was flawless, flight home was delayed by an hour waiting for crew and was a little bumpy (which is not great for a nervous flyer like me) but otherwise fine.
-- Get TSA PreCheck! Good for a few years, if the adults have it the kids have it too. It made the whole experience so much easier. That said, even PreCheck still moves kind of slow at MCO, so definitely get there at least 2 hours early for your flight. Use curbside check-in for bags, way faster than the long line inside!
-- On our agent's recommendation, we used Away We Go for ground transport in Orlando. They communicate really well, both ways were flawless, no complaints!
-- We used Minnie Vans to get to Animal Kingdom + Sanaa and Magic Kingdom, what a wonderful service! Definitely pricey, but they had cartoons on in the car, booster seats they set up for you, and the drivers were so nice and friendly and had fun trivia to share. I never had any problem requesting one when I needed it.
⛱️BEACH CLUB⛱️
-- We knew we wanted an onsite hotel where you could walk to at least one park. This pretty much limits you to a handful of Deluxe hotels or the Swan and Dolphin. Beach Club won for us because it's "in the Disney bubble" and you can walk to 2/4 parks. Note that while you can technically walk to Hollywood Studios, it is a LOOOONG walk. The boat is a nice not crowded alternative! We did not make use of Early Entry or Extended Hours, we're just not built for either. Beach Club was lovely, we booked a resort view but I think we ended up with a water view, we were right by the quiet pool and could see the water beyond from our room. Stormalong Bay was a little crazy for us but we loved the quiet pool. Best thing about Beach Club though is the location, EPCOT is literally steps away!
🌳ANIMAL KINGDOM🌳
-- We had read that there's really no bad day to do AK, so we started there. We rode: Navi River Journey, Flight of Passage, Kali River Rapids, Everest, Kilimanjaro Safaris, Triceratops Spin, and Dinosaur--so pretty much everything! With Genie+ we walked onto all of them. We also met Moana, Pocahontas, and Russell! The only thing we didn't do here that we wanted to was the Gorilla Falls trail, but we just ran out of time before the park closed.
🌐EPCOT🌐
-- We had read to avoid EPCOT on Fridays and Saturdays, so we went on Wednesday. We rode: Grand Fiesta Tour, Living with the Land, Nemo, Spaceship Earth, Imagination with Figment, Frozen, Remy, Journey of Water, and Guardians--everything we wanted! Again, with Genie+, we walked right onto everything! Outside of our character meal (more on that in the dining section!), we also met Anna, Elsa, and Asha! Tried a couple of Flower and Garden snacks: chicken and waffles, fruit and cheese strudel, and potato pancakes, all were delicious! Everyone had a different favorite day, but EPCOT was personally my favorite day, it felt like we were firing on all cylinders and the day just went really smoothly!
🏰MAGIC KINGDOM🏰
-- We had read that Wednesdays were the quietest days at MK, so we were originally going to try to do it that day, but we could only get a reservation for Cinderella's Royal Table on Thursday, so we switched it up. Definitely the most crowded of all the parks we visited, but I think that's just the norm for MK, everyone wants to go to the castle park with the most rides. We rode: Regal Carousel, Tomorrowland Speedway, Barnstormer, Magic Carpets, Mad Tea Party, People Mover, Dumbo, Small World, Little Mermaid, Pirates, Space Ranger Spin, Jungle Cruise, TRON, and Peter Pan. Again, with Genie+, we walked right onto everything! The only ride we missed at this park that we wanted to do was Pooh, I couldn't manage to get a return time that was earlier than we planned on leaving. Outside of our character meals (more on those in the dining section!) we also met Mirabel, Tiana, and Rapunzel! We had both the Rapunzel and Aurora ice creams, both so good and cute!
🎬HOLLYWOOD STUDIOS🎬
-- We had read that, like MK, it's better to do HS later in the week, so we went Friday. We rode: Slinky, Alien Saucers, Toy Story Mania, Rise, Smuggler's Run, Runaway Railway. Again, with Genie+, we walked right onto everything! The only ride we missed was Tower of Terror, again I couldn't manage to get a return time that was earlier than we planned on leaving. We also met Olaf, be aware Olaf doesn't sign stuff, they just give you a signature card. This park needs more shade IMO, especially Toy Story Land, I know it's supposed to be Andy's backyard, but I don't see why that means we can't have some shade from trees or something. 🤪 Blue milk from Galaxy's Edge was really good, the family was all fighting over it!
🍽️DINING🍽️
-- We almost certainly lost some money on the DDP, but I'm still glad we got it because it allowed us to do more table service meals and have less stress overall about expenses. We easily used up everything but child quick service credits, we had a few of those left over near the end.
Here's where we ate!
BOARDWALK DELI/PIZZA WINDOW: Pizza for the kids, sandwiches for the adults. Tasty and satisfying after our day of travel!
BEACHES AND CREAM: Got the kitchen sink for the experience, but honestly it's not great, all the ice cream and toppings melt together quick and you just end up with weird ice cream soup.
SAT'ULI CANTEEN: LOVED this place, everything was so yummy! Best quick service we had!
SANAA: Since Animal Kingdom closes so early, we thought we'd try to extend the experience by eating at Sanaa. What a great idea, we got seated right by a window and saw so many animals! The food was great too.
AKERSHUS: Our favorite princess meal! We met Aurora, Tiana, Snow White, Ariel, and Belle. They were all lovely, and the breakfast was really good too. Only 1 credit on the DDP!
GARDEN GRILL: Our kids really enjoyed getting to look down over Living with the Land and the fact that the restaurant spins. We met Farmer Mickey, Pluto, and Chip and Dale. They were fun and even came to our table more than once. Food was good!
SPACE 220: Not on the DDP, but wow, what a cool restaurant! Almost like a ride with the theming and the elevator up. Food was really good.
CINDERELLA'S ROYAL TABLE: You gotta eat in the castle! We paid for it OOP because we didn't want to use up 2 DDP credits here. You're really going for the location and the princesses, the food is kinda meh, not bad but not as good as other places. The restaurant is small and they have to turn tables quick, so it's very understandable to me that the princesses have to move fast. It's not that they rush you, they'll take all the pictures you ask for and sign whatever and answer your questions, but if you don't have much you need, they try to keep moving. Akershus is much bigger so they are able to be more relaxed there. The only small bummer is that we didn't see Merida (maybe she was on vacation too!) We did meet Cinderella, Ariel, Jasmine, and Aurora though!
CRYSTAL PALACE: We are not big on buffets but we enjoyed meeting Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore and Tigger!
TOPOLINO'S: Maybe the best food of the trip, steak and eggs were so good! The character artist costumes are so cute too. It was fun to have an excuse to ride the Skyliner to get here from Beach Club too.
DOCKING BAY 7: The theming is great, but the food wasn't as good as Satuli Canteen IMO.
THE MARKET AT ALE & COMPASS: We had quick service credits we wanted to use up on the last day and we didn't want to leave the resort again, otherwise I would have gone somewhere else, food was meh.
✨EXTRAS✨
-- I originally wanted to book Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique for my kids, but it's so expensive/competitive that I decided I didn't want the stress. Instead I booked Have Wand, Will Travel to come to our room and bought dresses from Presley Couture and Only Little Once. I chose Have Wand, Will Travel because they keep character throughout. Fairy Godmother Elyse was amazing and so much fun, my kids loved it and kept talking about it all day!
-- That same morning I ordered a Sammicakes breakfast box with beignets for us to eat. I also ordered a pretend letter from The DCP and Me on Etsy to make it seem like the breakfast came from Tiana. My kids also loved this and had fun telling Tiana about it both times we met her. Sammicakes was good but a LOT of food, sadly we didn't end up eating half of it. It can last you at least 3 days!
-- We had Birthdays and More decorate our door, it was a really fun surprise for the kids on our first day and made our room easy to find. The kids also loved reusing the decorations at home on their own doors!
-- Matching shirts and ear hats, all from Etsy! So many cool designs there, hardest part is choosing!
-- Got my kids a pin trading lanyard with some pins, they loooooved pin trading! It was like free souvenirs.
🧳PACKING🧳
-- Things the Internet Told Me to Pack That I Needed: Scissors, ziploc bags, ibuprofen (kids and adults), garbage bags, big carabiners to hook on the strolleuse to carry multiple bags at once.
-- Things the Internet Told Me to Pack that I Didn't Need: stainless steel straws (the paper straws are more like hard cardboard, they really don't break down unless your kid is gnawing on them or something), ponchos (it did rain some most days, but wearing a poncho was almost more miserable than not wearing one, it's so hot and humid to be walking around in a plastic bag! We did better taking shelter and using umbrellas.), wipes (obv you need them if your kid is younger, but mine were older and just never got messy enough to need them), glow sticks (we never stayed anywhere long enough to use them), bottled wateLiquid IV (the tap water tasted the same as home to us, but we live in a rural area so maybe we are just used to imperfect water?) Basically, the less you can get away carrying in the parks, the better. It's annoying to lug stuff around you don't end up needing or using!
🛞STROLLER🛞
-- I know it seems insane that your 5 year old and 9 year old will need a stroller, but mine definitely did. Once I accepted that I was going to have to get one, I tried to make the best of it, and actually got really into decorating it so we could always easily spot it in the sea (the decorations also later made nice wall decor for a gallery of our trip!) The Magic Spotter flag was the best investment, hardly anyone had them so it was easy to instantly spot our stroller anywhere we left it, even if it got moved. That said, I definitely didn't want to spend a lot on a stroller we were really only buying for this one trip, so I got a used Joovy Caboose on Facebook Marketplace for $50. It was very hard to handle with two older kids in it, and even with one it was hard to handle unless the kid was in the back seat. So we basically used it like a single stroller, glad I didn't spend a lot on it since it was so hard to drive!
☔WEATHER☔
-- We had mostly great weather, it rained some every day except Magic Kingdom day but it passed within an hour each time. We wore socks with Crocs so that if/when it rained, we could just take our wet socks off and walk in our Crocs, this worked great! Don't trust the weather reports though, two days it wasn't supposed to rain. One day it actually didn't, the other day it did and we had to walk in wet shoes because we didn't wear the Crocs that day. Just figure it might rain any day and be prepared! See above note RE: ponchos being not great and shelter + umbrellas being better. When it didn't rain, It. Was. Hot. 🥵 In the 90s but definitely felt hotter with the humidity making it so sticky. We felt there was plenty of shade at Animal Kingdom and EPCOT, but hardly any at Magic Kingdom and Hollywood Studios, which I would say slightly affected how much fun we had on those days comparatively.
Phew! That's about it, let me know if you have any questions!

Inspired by a post recently, I decided to write my own feedback on the game. Please note that these are my opinions, so you may or may not disagree with some of it and that's fine, I respect that.
Mission effects:

• 50% call-in time should NOT affect extract countdown (1 extra minute is a lot, either in a dog fight, or sitting around doing nothing)
• Bug spore map is fine, until there's a mountain that cut across in the middle of the map with no gap to cross in the middle until you run to the end (which end? u have to find out by walking around it, have fun wasting 5 minutes)
• Fire Tornado is NOT fun and doesn't add anything to the game other than wasting your time when they choose to go on objective or just kill your civilians doing almost nothing to enemies that walks in it.

Mission Type: Evacuate trapped civilians(40 minute and 15 minute variant):

• Civilians can get stuck on nothing occasionally, if both (or 3) paths are bugged, it's game over, there has to be a fallback for this

Evacuate trapped civilians(15 minute variant):

• Bugs are fine, but the bot version on this mission is near impossible to clear (without using certain tactics blablabla), more so after factory strider have been added to the spawn pool

Evacuate high value assets (20 minute 8 rocket mission):

• It can get bugged and missile refuse to continue launching, killing the entire mission (suspect it has to do with network instability, especially from network host)
• Bot (when called by smaller bots instead of mission spawn?) can spawn on the helipad or in the compound, this should not happen

Enemies:

General:

• Dead bodies should despawn sooner (or based on amount on the screen because defence mission on bots can have enemies piled so high that you can't see or shoot past it, god forbid u get stuck under one)

Bug front:

General (almost every unit):

• Should not be able to dig their way up through solid rocks (just remove the dig mechanic, I don't know why it should exist other than bugs digging through solid rock when players stand on top of it by jetpack)

Spewers:

• Nursing Spewer's dead body hitbox does not fit model (after butt have been popped, the hitbox remains, cant walk past)
• Bile Spewer's animation between them raised their butt in the air to suddenly spewing when you are close is non-existent (it's even faster than they running and raising their head to spew, they skip the head raising animation and go straight to spewing)
• Should not one shot players for something that spawns in such numbers
• (still) running too fast
• Too quiet for something that can one shot you out of nowhere (should not one shot)
• Their attack should apply DOT status similar to bleeding (either stim or dive in water to clear), remove the direct damage

Shriekers:

• Dead body deals more dmg than being alive

Stalkers:

• Does not unstealth after taking damage from Incendiary Shotgun from a distance (they should remain unstealth while taking damage, either from bullets or DoT like fire)
• Their knockback sometimes cause your character to have a long [explicit] roll animation if the ground is not even, which is basically a death sentence when fighting them

Brood commander:

• Can call breach without head
• Can track you without their head

Charger:

• Non-intuitive design where the butt is NOT a weakspot to everything (it's ok if I need 1.5 mag of my shotgun to kill it, but at least give us more option to kill that thing than just AT to the face or explosive dmg to the butt)
• Too quiet for something that can one shot you out of nowhere

Bile Titan:

• Non-intuitive design where the SHINING OPEN MOUTH during spit animation is NOT a weakspot, but the forehead is (without any indication)

Spore Spewer:

• Bouncing stratagem at the base of most layout
• Requiring certain weapons/stratagems to destroy after buffed (lowering weapon choice is not a good decision) Possible solution: allow hellbomb, or revert the changes. It's really frustrating and NOT FUN to deal with after the changes. Their main role is to obscure the map until players find it, it shouldn't be hard to remove as well (perhaps removing the red marking on the radar to make it harder to locate, instead of making it tougher)

Shrieker nest:

• Stratagem bounce on certain terrain/layout (particularly the two nest on a mountain layout), making placing hellbomb difficult

Bot front:

General (almost every unit):

• Should not be able to re-engage infinite distance away after been previously engaged before (should lose aggro ~1 minute without line of sight and revert to their regular scan distance)
• Why isn't Arc weapons doing more damage to bots? It should bypass their METAL armor and deal good damage to them

Dropship:

• Killing the dropship should have more significant impact to the enemies they are carrying/carried

Scout Strider:

• Revert whatever changes was made last buff

Rocket Devastators:

• Limit their rocket firing to x amount of salvos (to reflect their model), can add in (infinite) reload downtime to replenish their rocket (so players have opportunity to fire back)

Heavy Devastators:

• Gun firing angle does not fit model sometimes
• Can shoot through wall if they hug the wall (placing the scan further back from their body's hitbox might solve this as it wont be able to phase into the wall and see past it)
• Needs to add more inaccuracy, especially long distance away

Hulk:

• Face hitbox is weird (might be my potato aim but I can miss my shot when I shoot it near point blank)
• Flamethrower variant should not one tap (remove direct damage and just make it deal burning status, burning is already deadly enough)

Gunships:

• Having a VERY small pool of support weapons that can effectively deal with this enemy. One of the worst thing in the game because it's very limiting on what weapon you get to pick IN CASE you see one.

Tanks:

• Too quiet
• Shredder variant turns too fast to be able to reliable target the vents at the back
• Can climb things unreasonably well for something that runs on tracks

(Stationary) Cannon Turrets:

• Should not snipe you from 200m away without any warning or prior aggro, limit their scan distance}
• If they do want to snipe, make their dmg fall off with distance as to not get one shot out of nowhere from something you barely see

Factory Striders:

• Can shoot through wall if their face hugs the wall
• Their cannon turret is a bit too tanky for my liking, for something that already have two deadly MG on the chin
• Limit their spawn per dropship wave to 1 or 2 (especially in defence mission)

Detector Tower:

• Stratagem bounce issues

SAM Site:

• Very hard to locate
• Does the job that it's supposed to do very poorly

Stratagem Jammer:

• Should have limited enemies on them because you can't use stratagems, sometimes it's easy, but sometimes there's so many devastators on there plus dropship it becomes hell
• Can be deadly when spawned close to Gunship fab, perhaps limit the distance between these 2 sub-objectives

Command Bunkers:

• One taps you out of nowhere sometimes (no one likes getting one tapped from full health)

Extract:

• It's not red on the map in mission briefing, but you can drop into an extract with Factory Striders etc

Stratagems:

SOS Beacon:

• What does this do, exactly? Other than being a free one-time use hellpod dmg for host if they manage to attach it onto enemy

Airburst Rocket Launcher:

• Sometimes just fly past enemy's head, what's the proxy radius exactly? Should increase radius but only detonate after x amount of clearance from user (can be time or distance based)

Autocannon:

• GOATed (esp against bots), nothing wrong with it but it's so fun to use against bots that I just want to put it here.

Spear:

• Lock-on issues (it's like wanting to sneeze but you can't)
• For something that require lock on and only have 4 shots, it better one shot regardless of hitzone (or make it lock-on to weakspots instead)
• Useless in snowstorm even though I can see the enemy clearly
• Why would it lock on but miss if the target is too close, what's the point of lock-on if the projectile isn't actually locking onto the target

Orbital Railcannon Strike:

• Needs to lower the CD for something that only targets a single entity
• OR make it one shot every unit in the game (factory strider can be one shot by 380mm, so I don't see why railcannon can't)

"Guard Dog" Rover:

• Sometimes does not target enemies in-front of you, attacking you, or the enemies you're shooting, not sure why

"Guard Dog":

• The constant downtime is so bad compared to its counterpart, PLUS it runs out of ammo

Sentries:

• Non-existent health, too soft for something the developer wont let players place at hard to reach places

Mines:

• Doesn't feel as impactful as other stratagems, other than teamkilling

Shield Generator Relay:

• Should prevent enemy unit from entering
• Should have infinite health until time is up
• Should just be DRG's gunner shield
• Have problems with plasma punisher (the projectile cannot pass through the shield)

Smokes of all kind:

• Needs to work better, enemies should stop firing into/across the smoke or something. I brought smoke to survey mission and smoked the objective, between me and enemies (before the bots drop), I was the one who got smoked instead

Booster:

• Needs to give precise numbers on what EXACTLY each one does (maybe on wiki or something, to prevent people from coming up with nonsense like localisation confusion will create more patrols etc)
• UAV Recon Booster should do something to bug spore map (either reveal the map but not enemies on the map, or enemies nearby but not the map)
• Flexible Reinforcement Budget needs to have more impact to the cooldown time, as it stands it's the worst booster
• Expert Extraction Pilot needs to have more impact to the countdown time, 18s/27s is not good enough for something that does nothing throughout the entire game until the end
• Only a couple booster tends to be taken to missions because the power level of boosters is very different

Misc:

Gameplay:

• Stratagem should NOT bounce, let players decide where we wanna call our stuff, make it stick to walls, top of rocks (if players manage to land the stratagem there, why not), and enemies (sometimes you can stick stuff to chargers, sometimes you can't, I never understood why)
• Equipment/Stratagem loadout would be great to have
• Allow players to finish the mission in solo mode if kicked or lost connection, this would greatly reduce the impact of griefing and/or steam's weekly maintainance. You can prevent abuse by giving each mission an ID that can't duplicate reward if same player complete it twice. (just like Super credits that wont be given twice if you pick up the same one from the same mission)
• Enemies should have more ways to be killed and objectives should have more ways to be solved, so people actually can try out more loadouts than feel pressured to play the "meta".
• Patrol spawn rate should increase when we call extraction, not right after we finish main obj. Finishing sub obj is way harder if we finish main obj first (in blitz especially, where you can't choose when the main objective ends if you want to clear everything)
• Supply packs should have an icon on the map
• Icon for dropped items should appear in a larger radius
• Samples, Requisition Slips, and Medals should have uses other than being allowed to be capped (one interesting idea is the ability to purchase extra stratagem slot for operations/missions)
• Tier 4 Ship upgrade felt underwhelming, like it's AH trying to give players something to do while not wanting to reward the players. (the cost-to-impact is horrible to say the least)
• Armors should have more passives and stat variety, instead of the exact same stats and passive but different color
• Armor passive could be swappable (for fashion divers).
• Allow Stimming at any time (for stamina boost even if health is full to run for longer)
• The animation of rolling slowly after falling/diving/knocked back onto un-even ground is long, unnecessary, and annoying
• Allow viewing of Support weapon's stats like primary and secondary
• Allow players to customise weapons (especially the scope)

Lobby:

• Nickname given to Steam friends should not appear in-game, this can cause confusion between players as I see different name and player tag (ie: H2 vs D2) in mission from other players. But indication of the steam nickname should still be given, maybe upon entry. (ie: "dremskiy (HD2 dreamskiy) has joined the lobby")
• Allow sending friend request from party list (I don't know why this isn't a thing)
• Allow viewing of Steam player's Steam profile (and playstation profile for PSN players? I have no idea of the PSN ecosystem)
• Allow host to disband and create a new lobby (to mitigate the current multiplayer bug that might happens if someone leaves, or just so you can change party members without kicking)
• Allow host to set minimal join level for their lobbies (I know, this is controversial, but I'm tired of Lv20s joining Helldive missions. A good portion of them don't know what to do and run around like headless chicken and using up reinforcements. I'm here to enjoy the game, not carry and get frustrated when I get teamkilled or have them bring a big group of enemies into objectives. Everyone has their preference and "standards" when playing. I also know level isn't an indication of actual skill, but the proportion of frustration I've had with low levels vs higher level players is very different. I once had a lv10 matchmake into Helldive difficulty. How is that even possible? Don't they need to clear lower difficulties first? Yeah, they did nothing but die the entire mission)

First/Previous
The travel took on a less gloomy quality in the day that passed since Gemma’s self-reflection and although there remained a queer distance in her eyes, she seemed in better spirits in losing the weight of the words.
It was a night just beyond Wabash Crevasse that we pushed on till sunset was almost upon us and we were each tired and the food stocks ran low and so we found harbor in a half collapsed cellar where a home once stood; it was only after examining the slatted, rotted boards of the old place, fallen over, tired with decay, that we spied the cellar doors intact; sheets of door metal plied us with safety from the outside world and the interior of the place stank of mold and the deeper recesses were collapsed, but there was a cradle to crossbar the stair hatch and I put my prybar there for the night. We finished the water and canned tomatoes, and I smoked a cigarette, staving off the inevitable doom which would come with the dwindling of our supplies.
I’d peeked through the space where the doors met at the cellar’s entry and watched the full darkness there while the youngins spoke of life and the trivial pursuits of it and I hardly said a word besides.
Sitting on the lowest step with Trouble dumbly maintaining her station by me, by the low glow of the space in the threshold, I saw they’d pushed their bedrolls together and Andrew had fallen asleep with his arm over Gemma’s shoulder and her eyes glowed with shine from the crack, blinked a few times while seeing me; she too eventually drifted to sleep, and I spent time by the secured door.
Gunshots rang across the stillness, and they stirred from their quiet slumber and Gemma asked, “Harlan, is it alright?”
I moved to the space there at the doorway again and listened and watched what I could through that crack and nothing beyond came. “It’s safe. I’ll be up a bit longer. I’ll watch.”
Andrew asked, “Can’t sleep?”
“I’ll sleep in a bit. Don’t worry about me. Rest. Sleep good and we can put more behind us.
They sat up, legs crossed triangle-wise, and Gemma spoke again, “Why do you have such a hard time sleeping? It seems I’m asleep after you and only awake after you too.”
“Yeah,” said Andrew.
“It’s cool at night. I can listen to the wind.” I shrugged.
“You should be the one that tries to get some sleep,” said Andrew.
I said nothing.
They reached out their arms and I shook my head.
“Here,” Gemma said, “Move your bedroll closer.” She reached across the dirt floor of the cellar and dragged my splayed roll so that it sat beside hers.
“I’ll sleep later.” I turned my attention back to the door and ignored them till their sounds of sleep could be heard. The Alukah was nowhere and did not tap on the door that night and when I moved to sleep, I shimmied onto the roll beside them, facing away on my shoulder; the dog followed, laid on the bare dirt beside me and I held the mutt.
Though I refused a noise as they stirred in the absolute darkness, I felt Gemma’s arm fall over my own shoulder and felt Andrew’s hand touch my back, and water traced the bridge of my nose and I slept deeply thereafter.
There was no breakfast without food, and the water was gone; I felt the eyes of the dog on us as we packed up our belongings that next morning and I tried not to imagine the poor animal skinned over fire. I smiled at Trouble, patted its head, scratched its chin; she sniffed my hand like she was looking for something that wouldn’t be found.
We went west again, ignoring roads and pushed through straight wasteland where nothing was and no one was, and with every dry footfall on the dry hard ground, I wished for rain, and I wished that when it had rained, as infrequent as it was, that I had been wise enough to save what we could from the sky; that sky was red and swollen and refused to burst. We pushed on through strange dead thickets where grayed and twisty yellow branches lurched from the ground into the sky like even they too wished for an end to all the suffering. It was days more till we would see Alexandria and though I could stave off hunger (thirst too, if necessary), I was not so certain that the children would be able to push on without it; they did not complain and watched the ground in our march and maintained higher spirits than I could’ve imagined from them.
Early in the day, they spoke often, and I listened and as they wore on, their words came less and even the dog seemed in a lower mood for the unsaid predicament; me too.
Gemma broke the silence on the matter by saying, “What are we going to do about food? Water?”
“We’ll push on.”
“We could turn back?” asked Andrew.
“The more time we spend out in the open, outside of a city, the more likely it is that the Alukah will catch us unawares. Tighten your belts.” Our feet took us around a dilapidated truck, an old thing with a rusty hook which dangled off a rear arm. “Save your urine.”
They made faces but did not protest.
“Does that work? You ever drink pee?” asked Andrew.
I laughed, “I thought we’d be there by now. I took us too long by trying to drop the scent of the Alukah. That thing’s hunted us for days—last night was the first time it ain’t bothered us. It’s got me wondering why.”
Gemma piped up, licking her dry lips before speaking, “Do you think that monster ran into those scavengers we saw?” Then I caught her shooting a look at Andrew, “At least we warned them.” Her smile was faint and almost indiscernible as one.
I shrugged. “Can’t say. Don’t think it’s smart to turn back. Won’t be long and we’ll touch the 40 and then it’ll be a straight on to Babylon—couple of days—can’t turn back though. Maybe without food; that’s doable. Water’s the worst, but if it comes to it,” I paused and looked on the weathered faces of the children, on the lowered head of Trouble which followed her nose across the ground (it searched just short of frantic), “Like I said, ‘save your urine’.”
The first pains of hunger held within me brought up some reminiscence and I wished for nothing more than to hold Suzanne; I could nearly smell them and in the swaying walk which took us on past toppled townships, I held long blinks where I could nearly make out their face and if I really pushed the limits of my imagination, I could feel them. In those moments, as we passed dead places, rotted pits of despair, I could think of little more than their presence. Though I knew it was a dangerous game, hoping for more than I was worth, I hoped for Suzanne then and I wished that I’d taken them up on their offer to travel to Alexandria with them; it could’ve been home—it never was in all the times I’d gone there, but who knows? The thoughts of Babylon brought forth their gardens; the wild gardens and the water which flowed freely through their pipes. I wished I was a different person entirely and that too would’ve been better for Suzanne; how it was that they’d seen anything in me, I don’t know. How it was that they could stoop to the level of being with someone like me—I warded off that thought, because to place the blame there would certainly be unfair. I thought of my love plainly and wanted a different life more suited to them.
Imaginations played more furiously, and I remembered the evening when Dave stopped me from leaping from that roof—it’s doubtful that he even realized that he’d slowed my demise; perhaps he did know—I wished then that I could ask him. Too kind for the world. People too kind for the world were scarce and hardly worth the trouble. Yet, there I was, chaperoning those two across the wastes.
Gemma was a broken person when I’d found her, tortured in Baphomet’s well; Andrew was a dullard boy who’d lost his hand. What a silly predicament.
I stopped in my movements and swiveled on my heel to catch Andrew by the shoulder. “You still got your hand, don’t you?”
In good humor, the boy grinned, lifted the nub on the end of his left forearm to show me, “Nope.”
“Dammit, no! The hand in the jar!”
Andrew raised his eyebrows. “In my pack.”
“Stop,” I commanded Trouble; the dog hardly recognized my words and continued a way then circled back, sad eyes looking up from where she took to sit by my side. Gemma, both arms dangling loosely from her own pack’s shoulder straps, took into the circle we’d formed.
The girl asked, “What about the jar? It’s nasty, but I guess it’s his.”
“I think that’s it,” I said. I took Andrew by his shoulders, looked him in his eyes, “We could use it!”
“What?” The boy almost laughed in the display of our concern. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I think I’ve got it! It’s good for a trap.” I shook him; maybe too hard. I almost smiled. “It’s worth a shot!”
“It’s mine.” He bit his top lip, withdrew from me.
“You’ll feel differently about that,” I said.
Gemma placed a hand on Andrew’s pack and tried ripping it open. “Give it to him!” shouted the girl.
The boy whipped from her grasp, and he spun on his feet, and panic stood on his face. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”
I took a step forward, “No, not anymore.” I put out my palm, “Give it.”
Andrew nearly flinched at the thought of it and shook his head a little. “Why?”
“I told you why,” I said.
“You don’t even know if it’ll work, do you?” his words were long in protest.
The girl started again, “Andrew, please.”
He locked eyes with Gemma and once again, his bottom teeth came up to meet over his top lip and he moved his jaw methodically with contemplation.
“What does it even matter?” she asked.
“It’s mine. You don’t know what it’s like.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“C’mon,” he said, but his pack straps fell from his shoulders, and he hunkered down on the ground and opened his bag; his right hand plunged into the recesses therein and withdrew the jar with his severed left hand. He held the object up, refusing to come up from his open pack, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Take it then.” He shook the jar; its contents sloshed with liquid decay.
I grabbed the thing, held it to skylight; the remains within had congealed and rotted and lumps nearly floated in the brownish liquid which had formed in the base of the container. I shook it and stared for a moment at the miniscule debris which floated alongside the hand; each of its digits had swollen and erupted to expose bone; some had come away in pieces. “Tomorrow,” I said and nodded.
We gathered ourselves and Andrew pulled his pack on again and we moved, Trouble still looked sorry and the boy remained quiet while the girl chattered on with questions while we took through the dying ground in a formation with the dog on point then me then the children.
“What will you do with it?” she asked me.
“Not sure yet.”
Andrew made a noise like he wanted to say something but didn’t.
“You think it will work?” asked Gemma.
“Nothing’s a guarantee. They’re smart—Alukah.”
“Smart enough to figure out a trap?”
I shrugged. “We’ll find out.”
“We could put stakes in a pit.”
“Keep on the lookout for a building. Something with multiple floors.”
With that, we moved on, found a worn, mostly destroyed road and we fell into a travelling quiet and the thought of hunger or thirst arose again, and I pushed it down—though I knew the uneasiness could only last so long before savagery would overtake the human condition; the kids seemed strong enough, but I kept an eye on the dog too. Savagery belonged not only to humans, after all.
The ground of the wastes was harder when it was quiet, and it was flatter further west. The sky—red and full of thin and transparent drifting clouds—seemed an awful sight when stared at for too long; it was the thing which stretched as if to signal there wasn’t an end in any direction, as if to declare we had much more to go till safety. Wanderlust is a thing that I believe I’ve felt before, but under that sky, with those two and the dog, I didn’t feel it at all. It was doom that I felt. Ignorance and doom. And it was all because I was certain I’d made all the wrong mistakes, and it was coming back to me. I was experienced. We should’ve had food and water. Perhaps there was some deep and nasty part inside of me that had intended to sacrifice them along the way. The words of the Alukah might have rung true: You say you make no deals, but I smell it. I think you’d deal.
Surely, I felt differently. Surely.
“Getting darker,” called Andrew as we came to where signposts—worn and bent and barely legible—told us of a place once called Annapolis and the buildings were nearly gone entirely; places, maybe places that were once homes, were leveled—I was briefly caught in imagining what it might’ve been like all those ages ago. As are most places, it was haunted like that and when we came to a long rectangular structure of metal walls—thin walls—we took it as a place for rest for the night.
It once served as an agricultural station, for when we breached its entry, there were a line of dead machines—three in all—cultivators or tillers which stood higher than any of our heads and Gemma asked what they were, and I told her I thought they were for farming. The great rusted bodies stood in quiet shadow as we came through a side passage of the building and the great doors which had once been used to release those machines from the building stood frozen in their frame. I approached the doors, lighting my lantern and motioning for the children to shut the door we’d entered through.
Upon closer inspection, it seemed the doors would roll into the ceiling and the chains which held the doors in place were each secured with rusted padlocks—I removed my prybar from my pack and moved along the wall of doors, giving each old lock a smack with the weapon; each one held in place, seemingly fused there through years of corrosion, and I rounded the cultivators once more, back to the children, near the side door where they’d discovered a rickety stair frame which crawled up the side of the wall to a catwalk; along the catwalk, a levitated box stood at the height of the structure, stilted by metal legs, and we took the stairs slowly with the dog following close behind; the poor mutt was mute save the sound of its own shuffling paws.
The metal stairs creaked under our weight and Gemma held her own lantern high over her head so that the strange shadows of the place grew longer, stranger, and suddenly I felt very sure that something was in the dark with us, but there was no noise except what we made. My eyes scanned the darkness, and I followed the children up the stairs till we met the overhang of the catwalk and I peered into the shadows, the blades of the cultivators—far extended on foldable arms—struck up through the pool of blackness beneath us and I felt so cold there and if it were not for the breath of my fellow travelers, I might have been lost in the dark for longer than intended—lost and frozen and contemplative.
“There’s a room,” said the boy, and he pushed ahead on the hanging passage, and he was the first to the door. “Boxes,” he said plainly.
Upon coming to the place where he stood, Gemma pushed her lantern over the threshold, and I saw what he’d meant as I traced my own lantern to help; the room was crammed with plastic totes and old metal containers of varied sizes. There seemed to be enough empty space to maneuver through the room, but only if one watched their feet while they walked. Carefully.
We moved to the room, and I found a stack of crates to place my lantern then motioned for Gemma to douse hers. In minutes, the place was rearranged so that we could sit comfortably on the floor; crates lined the walls precariously and we breathed heavy from the work done, but we began to unpack and upon watching the children while I rolled a cigarette, I felt a pang of guilt, a terrible summation—all choices in my life had led me here and with them and perhaps it would have been a better world for them without me.
Mentally shrugging this thought away, I lit my cigarette, inhaled deeply, and then withdrew the jar which Andrew had handed over. I held it to the lantern to examine it. The grotesqueness of it hardly phased me and I watched it more curious and hopeful than disgusted.
“I hope it’ll work,” said the boy, “Whatever it is that you plan on doing with it.” He grimaced and maintained a further silence in patting his bedding for fluff. The dog moved to him, and she pushed her forehead against him where he squatted on floor. The boy scratched Trouble’s chin and whispered, “Good girl,” into the top of her head where he’d pushed his own face.
“I’m hungry,” said Gemma; she placed her chin in her arm while watching Andrew with the dog. She sat on her own flat bed there on the floor and stated plainly the thing that I’d hoped to ignore for longer.
“I know.” I took another drag from the cigarette and let the smoke hang over my head. “The dog?”
Andrew recoiled, pulling Trouble closer into his arms.
I smiled. “It was a joke.”
Andrew relaxed, but only a moment before Gemma added, “Maybe.”
The boy narrowed his eyes in the girl’s direction, and she shrugged. “If it’s life or death.”
He didn’t say anything and merely continued stroking Trouble’s coat.
That night, we slept awfully and even in the complete darkness, I felt the cramp of the storage room and the angled shapes of the tools that protruded from the containers on all sides remained permanent well after we’d turned the light off and it felt like those shapes were the teeth of a great creature like we were sitting inside of its mouth, looking out.
Trouble positioned herself partially on my chest, her slow rhythmic breathing brought my thoughts calm and I whispered to her in the dark after I was sure the others were asleep, “I promise it was a joke.” And I brushed the back of her neck with my hand and the animal let go of a long sigh then continued that deep rhythmic breathing.
Still without food or water, the following day was the true indication of the misery to come. Gemma’s stomach growled audibly in waking and Andrew—though he kept his complaints to himself—smacked his lips more often or protruded the tongue in his mouth in a starvation for water. The room, in the daylight which peered through pinpricks of its half-decayed roof, seemed another beast altogether from its nighttime counterpart; it was not so frightening. Again, I admonished myself for the lack of preparation, but there was another thought that brought together a more cohesive feeling; we had a possible plan, a trap for the demon that’d been following us.
We went into the field to the west of the building where there was only dirt beneath our feet in the early sunlight and in the coolness of morning air, I nearly felt like a person. The sun crested the horizon and brought with it a warmth that would quickly become overwhelming—in those few minutes though—it felt good enough. I wished for the shy dew and saw none. The weirdness of holding Andrew’s rotting hand in a jar momentarily caught me and I almost laughed, but refrained and the dog and the children looked on while I held the container up and suddenly, seeing the congealed mass of tissue floating in its own excretions, I was overcome with the urge to run, the urge that nothing would ever be right again in my life, and that I was marked to be that way.
I blinked and tossed the jar to Andrew. “Say goodbye,” I said. He fumbled after it with his right hand and caught it to his chest.
“It’s strange you care so much anyway,” said Gemma, shrugging—her eyes forgave a millisecond of pity and when Andrew looked at her, still holding the jar in his right hand, she smiled and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her pants.
“We’ve enough oil, I think,” my voice was raspy from it being early, “Enough for good fire, but if we use it, it’ll mean a few more dark nights on our way.”
“We’re going to set it on fire?” Andrew pondered, keeping his eyes to the contents of the jar. “It worked good enough last time. It’ll work,” I nodded, “I has to, doesn’t it?”
His dry lips creased into a brief smile, and he tossed the jar back to me and I caught it.
“Let’s dig,” I said.
Without much in the way of proper tools, we began at the ground under us with our hands, then taking turns with my prybar till there was a hole in the ground comfortably large enough to conceal a human head and I uncapped the jar and spilled it contents there and we covered it back and I lightly tamped it with my boot. My eyes scanned the outbuilding we’d taken refuge in the night prior and then to the street to the north then to the houses which stood as merely rotted plots of foundation with frames that struck from the ground more as markers than support. “I’ll take up over there across the street when it gets dark. I want you two in that storage room before anything goes off.”
“We can’t help?” asked Gemma.
“You can help by staying out of the way—the mutt too,” I said; the words were harsh, but my feelings were from worry.
“Wouldn’t it be better if we stuck together?” asked the girl.
I shook my head. “You stay in the room and keep quiet. No matter what you hear, you stay quiet and safe.”
“That’ll put you at a bigger risk,” Gemma furrowed her brow at me and shifted around to look out on the houses across the street, “There’s hardly any cover over there.”
The boy nodded, smacked his lips, and rubbed his forearm across his mouth then audibly agreed with her.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, “No matter what you hear happening outside, no matter, you don’t open the door and you don’t scream—don’t make a noise at all. Alright? Even if you hear me calling you, you don’t do it.”
“Pfft,” Gemma crossed her arms and kicked her foot against the ground. The way her eyes seemed hollowed with bruising showed that the irritation would only grow without food. “Alright,” she finally sighed.
Andrew looked much the same as she did in that; he swallowed a dry swallow then stuffed his hand into his pocket and looked away when our eyes matched.
We gathered our light oil. Altogether, it seemed enough; rummaging through the room of the outbuilding we’d earlier taken refuge within, we managed three intact glass containers—the only ones found that wouldn’t leak with liquid; two were bottles and the third was the jar that’d once kept Andrew’s hand. With that work done, we sat with three Molotov cocktails within our huddled circle of the storage room.
“Is it enough?” asked Gemma.
“We’ll see,” I began rolling a cigarette to ignore the hunger and the thirst.
Andrew took to the corner and glanced over his shoulder only a moment before a steady liquid stream could be heard and when he rotated from the wall once the noise was finished and he held a canteen up to his nose, sniffed it and quivered and shook his head.
As the sun pushed on, I scanned the perimeter outside, and they followed. Far south I spied a mass of shadow inching across the horizon and Gemma commented, “What’s that?”
I pushed the binoculars to her and let her gaze through them.
“A fiend—that’s what we called it back in the day anyway. A mutant.”
She held the binoculars up and frowned. “A mutant? So, it was once human?”
“A fiend was once many humans.” I pointed out to the horizon though she couldn’t see me doing so and continued, “If you look at the edges of its shape, you’ll see it’s got limbs galore on it. Sticking up like hairs is what it’ll look like at this distance. Those are arms and legs. It’s got faces too. Many faces.” I shuddered.
“I can barely see any details,” she passed the binoculars to Andrew, and he looked through them, “What’s it do?”
“What?” I asked.
“What’s it do if it catches a person?”
“It pulls people into it. Makes you apart of its mass. Nasty fuckers.”
Andrew removed the lenses from his eyes and held them to his chest and asked, “It won’t mess up your trap, will it?”
“We’ll keep an eye on it,” I said, “You don’t want to mess with a fiend unless you have to.”
First/Previous
Archive

Airspace above Argus Isle. Mercenary Guild Territory
Wind buffeted The Agent as he leaned out of the gunship and looked down. The gunship was hovering above the clouds directly over Argus isle. The Guild needed to figure out what was happening with the storm that had completely isolated the faraway outpost, and this was the best idea they had come up with for getting a team in. Didn't mean The Agent liked it. The gunship's co-pilot tapped him on the shoulder.
"You've done this same maneuver before! Just like Fort Intrepid, except we can't see the ground!"
"That's what I'm worried about!" The Agent shouted back "We've got no idea what's happening down there!"
The co-pilot just shrugged and gave him a thumbs up. "Whenever you're ready!"
The Agent took a deep breath and looked down at the maelstrom below him. He did not like this, but orders were orders... One last glance at the gunship, and he leaped off. He plummeted down into the clouds. Pulling All-Red from his back, he cut a path through the clouds. The clouds were thick, almost like they were made of a honey-like substance, but All-Red made short work of it. 1 minute later The Agent broke through the clouds like a red meteor and slammed into the ground in a small fruit grove. He took a few steps out of the crater and looked around.
Just then 2 figures spilled out of his shadow. They were the other members of the team, Umbra Operatives E-137 "Saffron" and C-569 "Edward". Saffron immediately tore off her helmet and puked.
"This... is why... I stick to the ocean..." she mumbled before sliding her helmet back on.
"Well your wish will be granted" The Agent told her. He looked up at the incessant rain and quickly reviewed the plan in his mind. Edward would link up with the Umbra Operatives that were already present on the island when the storm first arrived. Saffron would link up with the sirens that had been secretly stationed here as part of the defenses, then check on the integrity of the Argus Artillery Apparatus (AAA). The Agent would go directly to the commander in charge and find out what was happening. They all knew their roles, and with a quick nod, Saffron and Edward faded off into the shadows of the trees.
The Agent made his way south towards the only population center on the island. He had landed in the northern highlands, so he got a good lay of the land as he made his descent. The city seemed intact, though he noticed a few shipwrecks on the coast. Off the western coast on it's own small island, the AAA looked fine as well. The AAA was a massive railgun that fired rounds at a fraction of the speed of light. It couldn't move though, and relied on portals to line up a shot. It was the shadow council's belief that whoever was making this storm wanted to prevent the AAA's use, destroy it, or capture it...
As he made it to the city limits, a Guild patrol in full hazmat suits met him on the road. They immediately recognized him.
"Oh! It's The Agent! You were the red comet we saw fall?"
"Yes, that was me, I need to see your commanders ASAP."
"Of course sir! Follow us!"
As they made their way through the city, The Agent noticed how empty it was. No civilians were in sight, with windows everywhere boarded up.
"Where is everyone?" The Agent asked the sergeant.
"Martial law has been declared, with everyone ordered to the emergency shelters. Except for shelter 7, as that's in the quarantine sector."
"Quarantine sector?"
"It's the rain sir, anyone who ingests it seems to turn into a... husk of themself... all those found infected have been quarantined... the higher ups know more"
They soon arrived at the Guild headquarters building, and The Agent was quickly was quickly ushered in to a war room. Standing in there was Commander Kate Reed, along with a dozen other officers. They all quickly saluted The Agent, then got to business.
...
"So to recap, the storm arrived suddenly 1 week ago, it hasn't stopped raining, and anyone who ingests the rain becomes a...husk?"
"Correct" commander Reed told The Agent. "We quickly realized it was the rain doing it, and ordered all the civilians into the emergency shelters, where they would be safe from it and have access to secure, untainted water reserves. Many were infected though, which is why we moved them all to a certain sector of the city and quarantined them there. We can't get any message to the outside world, and portals don't work. All ships that have tried to brave the storm wash up a day later as a shipwreck. We haven't tried aircraft for that reason.
"Hmm... Okay, but the AAA seems fine?"
"Yes, but of course with portals not working, it's useless-"
Just then an aide burst into the room. "Ma'am, sorry to interrupt, but a patrol just found something. Down on the beach near the AAA, they found a washed up siren. Looks like The Agent here, but she is completely unresponsive!
"WHAT!" The Agent shouted. Saffron had gone to check the AAA's integrity, but what happened- Then it hit him. The rain. Ingesting the rain made people into husks. The rain was mixing with the water. Saffron was breathing the water when she went to check the underwater sections...
Shit...

When I was looking through the finished chapter folder today, one was missing, and I got worried that I deleted it on accident. Turns out it was at the top of the folder instead of the bottom, because I put a space in the title that wasn't supposed to be there. So, crisis averted, I guess.
Many thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for the universe.
Enjoy.
Prev - First - Next
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Chapter 14: Hydrophobic
- Memory Transcription Subject: Meba, Venlil Computer Scientist
Date [Standardized Human Time]: October 20th, 2136
It was comfy.
I wasn’t sure about the whole ‘scarf’ thing, but after finishing it, and putting it on, I actually liked it quite a bit. Finishing it wasn’t even hard, all I had to do was bring the end of the yarn through the last loop and weave in the end, which was a breeze with a little help from Arlene.
She helped me put it on. Apparently, there was a nearly infinite number of ways to wear the garment. Anything from braids, to knots, to wraps, to simply dangling from the neck. It was truly amazing how many ways humans managed to use a simple strip of fabric.
She showed me several different ways to tie it. First only draping it around my neck, then showing me how to do the ‘once around’, next tying a ‘Parisian’ knot, and finally showing me a braided one that was really just a modified version of the Parisian, where instead of bringing both ends through the loop, you only put one through, and then give it a half turn, put the other end in, and repeat until the ends are completely integrated into the braid.
Arlene made a weird squealing noise. “Okay hold on, I need to take a picture of this.” She pulled out her phone and took shots of me from several angles, even pulling the camera right up to my snout at one point, and causing me to flinch.
She turned the phone around to reveal an extremely distorted, and equally unflattering close up of my face. “Everybody loves a fish eye filter.”
I didn’t know what to say. The disrespect was palpable.
“Oh, let me show you a trick.” She undid the braid, taking the scarf and wrapping it around front to back, and bringing the ends back around and down through the loop at the front. Then she took the back part, and brought it over the back of my head in a hood, having a bit of trouble getting it past my wool, and pressing my ears down towards the front of my face. I liked the Parisian better.
“This is really uncomfortable.” My voice sounded muffled with the hood flattening my ears.
“Okay, okay. Just let me get one picture.” She pointed the phone at me again.
Once she was done with her ‘photoshoot’, I took off the scarf. “Is this really that enjoyable for you?”
“Extremely. You have no idea how cute this is. I’ll make one with ear holes for you so you can wear the hood comfortably next time.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever need that much insulation.”
“You never know. What if you go to the night for some reason?”
“Despite my heritage, I don’t have much of a thing for freezing temperatures.”
“Well, it’s up to you. Do you like it?”
I folded up the scarf and put it into my bag. “It’s comfy. Like a hug.”
She smiled. “It looks good on you too.”
My tail wagged of its own accord. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Hold on, let’s get one more picture.” She pulled out her phone again, and crouched next to me to match my height, pointing the camera towards us both. “Smile!”
Flustered, I struggled to make the foreign expression. Arlene put her arm around my shoulder, and took the picture.
“There we go, Dad’s gonna get a kick out of that… once I actually get a way to send it to him.” She tapped away at the screen for a moment. “How much time do we have before we need to leave for dinner?”
“A quarter claw or so.”
“Okay, perfect. Since we have some time…” She smiled. “You wanna learn how to spin thread?”
“Sure.”
Her smile deepened. “Okay okay, come on, let me show you how.” She nearly sprinted over to the spinning wheel.
I followed, though not nearly as eager.
“Sit down.” She ordered, bringing up a chair next to the contraption.
I obliged. Arlene loomed over me, looking even larger while I sat in the wooden seat. A pointless shiver went up my spine.
She brought a little bag of rolags next to the wheel, placing it on the ground, then turning to the wheel.
“It’s already set up, but I’ll redo it so you can see how.” She removed the bobbin from its spot. “Before you start, you need a bit of yarn to start off, so you can attach the new fibers to it.” She tied a loop in the end of the yarn, and slotted the bobbin back in with a clack. “It goes in like this. Then we set the tension, which is how much the bobbin will pull on your side of the yarn. You change it using this little knob down here.” She twisted the knob back and forth a few times for effect. “It should be fine for you, just tell me if it’s pulling too hard.”
I flicked an ear.
“Okay, so we bring the yarn along the hooks here, towards this hole, which is called the orifice. I have a little hook here to pull the yarn through.” She stuck it in, then pulled the yarn back through, and handed it to me.
The yarn was fine; a single strand of wool, though I knew it was actually a tangle of several. As I slid my paw pad along the yarn, it felt slightly fuzzy in my paws, with a few errant hairs struggling to escape.
“Don’t grab it so hard. Try to be firm, but gentle.”
I adjusted my grip. “Better?”
“I wont really know for sure until you start. Let’s try the treadle. You play an instrument?”
“No, why?”
What would music have to do with this?
“Well, just pretend that you do. You need to keep a steady beat so the speed stays constant. Put your foot on the treadle and give it a try.” She smiled.
“Okay then.” I put my paw down, and gave it a push. As the wheel turned, my paw was soon lifted back up from the floor, then reaching the apex of the turn. Instinctively, I pushed down again, and the wheel gained yet more speed. Then, I misplaced my next push, and sent the wheel turning the other way.
A pat on my shoulder. I didn’t realize I was so tense. “Relax, it’s hard at first. Just keep trying. You gotta be gentle with it; you don’t want it to go too fast. You had the right idea before, just let it move your foot, and give it a little tap when needed… oh, and be careful not to let go of the yarn.”
“Uh huh… thanks.” I tried again, paying more attention to my timing now. Keeping the speed consistent was harder than it looked. However, while I didn’t think of myself as more coordinated than the average venlil, I think I was getting the hang of it.
“There ya’ go. That’s pretty good. Can you try changing directions?”
How the brahk am I supposed to do that?
I looked up at her, then back to the wheel, when my concentration faltered.
“Just push down before it goes over the top of the spin. It’s basically what you’re doing now, but in reverse.”
Just keeping it spinning was hard enough. Turning it around? Nope, that wasn’t gonna happen.
“Come on, you can do it.”
Ugh.
I attempted to get it to turn in the other way, to no avail; when I pushed down, it still went over the apex of the turn, and I didn’t take the pressure off fast enough, so it sped up way more than before, throwing me off beat.
“Brahk.” I spat, claws from my free paw digging into my thigh. My face burned with bloom.
The wheel slowed to a crawl, then a stop, lifeless. My eyes fixed on it like hooks to meat.
“Hey, don’t worry, just give it another shot.”
“Y-yeah.” I gave it another push, repeating until it was up to speed. The machine made a gentle whirring as it turned.
I watched the treadle, and the plank that attached it to the wheel. After a few more rotations, I gave it a big push in the other direction, and it slowed greatly. The next rotation, I gave it another push, and it turned around.
“Woo! You did it!”
Arlene’s yelling startled me, and I stopped.
“Let’s get you spinning some thread now.” She gave me a big teeth bearing grin.
I tried not to look at her mouth too hard. “Okay.”
She grabbed a rolag from the pile. “It’s probably best if I just show you.”
“Alright.”
Arlene roughed up the end of the rolag, then she grabbed the yarn from my hand, and looped the fibers around the loop. “Could you start it up again?”
“Yeah.”
Once the wheel was spinning, she slid her fingers down the rolag; the whole thing constricted into a length of yarn, due to the twist.
After it twisted up, she fed it into the orifice, which promptly swallowed it up, and then she repeated the process: thinning out the rolag a bit, sliding the twist in, and feeding it into the machine. She did this 6 times before she ran out of fiber. But that didn’t stop her; she just grabbed another rolag and pressed the feathery end into the yarn, and continued. Three more times, and she stopped.
She motioned for me to stop pedaling. “You get all that?”
I blinked. “It doesn’t look too hard.”
“Let’s get to it then.” She handed me the fibers, and stood back, a thumb pointing up to the sky.
I took them in my paws, and held them in a firm grip, so they wouldn’t come out of my hands when I started pedaling. The wheel came up to speed, blurring slightly. My vision narrowed to the singular point in front of me: the fiber. Heartbeats felt like footsteps in my chest, my breathing slow. I felt the fiber; how it pulled against my paws, the roughness of the strands, the texture of the wool. Drafting a bit of the fibers out, I slid my paw pads along the fiber, to let a little twist into it. It strangled into a single line of yarn. Slowly, carefully, I fed it into the orifice, all while keeping the wheel turning at a reasonable speed. There were bits where the yarn was thicker, and thinner, where I failed to keep the fibers consistent. Particles of dust played in the corner of my vision.
Repeat.
The bumps slid against my paw pads like thorns, though I tried to squish them down. I didn’t know how you were supposed to get rid of them. I pulled along the fiber, feeling the twist rub against me. Another length into the bobbin.
Repeat.
My claws slid along the fibers, twist came in, I fed it into the orifice. Repeat. I drafted more fiber, slid along it, and fed it into the orifice. Repeat. I struggled to pull apart the fibers, so I slowed down the wheel’s speed. Repeat. When I untwisted part of the yarn in my paws, the fiber came apart easier. Repeat. Every now and then, I would grab more yarn from the pile, and attach it to the yarn. My leg burned from the constant motion. Repeat.
Repeat, repeat, repeat,
Instead of hitting wool, my paw struck air. I was out. I sopped pedaling, and the wheel came to a stop.
Arlene struck her hands together in a rhythmic motion. “Good job!” She had moved to the other side of the machine from her original place beside me, and I didn’t even notice. “I was going to show you how to feed the yarn evenly onto the bobbin, but you were so focused I just decided to change the hooks for you. Seriously, you’re a natural; I’ve never seen someone get it so fast.”
My mouth was dry from thirst. How long had I been spinning? I glanced around the room. “W-what time is it?”
Arlene grabbed the end of the fibers from my paws and tied it around an extrusion on the machine. “I think you started about forty minutes ago.” She scratched at her head. “Sorry, that’s uh…”
“So not long?” I asked. My perception of time was completely off. It felt like I had just sat down, though that was obviously not the case.
“Yeah.” She replied. “Wanna take a look at your yarn?”
An ear flick later, and she was humming some Earth tune while removing the bobbing from the spinning wheel, tying off the end of the fiber in an overhand knot to keep it from unraveling. After a moment of inspection, she passed the bobbin to me.
“It’s damn good work for your first time.” She said bluntly.
I ran a paw along the bundled yarn. “There’s a bunch of bumps.”
“Come on, I didn’t even show you how to control the thickness yet. You should be proud.” Arlene ordered, with a slap on the back that struck a cough out of me.
She was just being nice, I knew. Arlene was like that; she would probably praise me even if I somehow managed to destroy the wheel. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit happy about it. I made this. I was holding it in my own two paws.
“Thanks.” I tried to smile.
“Aw, you’re welcome.” Arlene smiled back. It was warm.
“We should get going, or we’ll be late.” I said, handing her the bobbin back.
“Sure, give me a sec.” She replied, grabbing a pocket umbrella from the other room. I considered the claim that humans could smell rain before it started dubious at best. Though, it might have been a good idea to check the weather report.
---
I should have listened.
So much rain, and that’s not even mentioning the wind. Anything that wasn’t blown away was pummeled, including us. We huddled under the singular human umbrella, which was wholly insufficient to shield us from the raindrops. We were shuffling towards the restaurant at a painfully slow pace, Arlene unbuttoning her coat to drape its hydrophobic veil around the both of us. From the outside, we probably looked like a horrid chimera of venlil and human, with tough stitched skin, stretching under powerful muscles. It’s a good thing we didn’t have to worry about other pedestrians. It was too late to go back now.
Arlene said something, but I couldn’t hear it over the rain and the wind.
“What?!” I asked.
“I said! Are we close!?” She yelled in response.
“What?!”
She brought the coat around our heads to shield from the wind. “Are we almost there?!”
“Almost!” I said, throat scratchy.
On the horizon—no, it wasn’t the horizon, it was just the edge of our vision in the wet hell we were trapped in—a spattering of warm neon lights shot through the endless layers of water like a photon cannon, while each speck of liquid reflected the shiny oasis, beckoning us closer with promises of warmth and comfort. Arlene slipped on a puddle, her boots caked thick with mud, the rubber treads no longer providing traction. I helped her to steady herself, and almost fell myself.
I saw movement in the window of the establishment, the details of which I couldn’t place. A drop of rain charged straight into my eye, and I lost focus.
There was a small awning above the door, but it didn’t do much to help against the rain, completely useless against the nearly sideways path of the water. Though, at least we weren’t completely soaked. Arlene’s coat was a boon I couldn’t have predicted. I was beginning to see the appeal of human apparel; I couldn’t imagine traveling through such weather with just my wool, or, stars forbid, nothing but skin. Though, that wouldn’t stop my brain from trying.
The rain like gunfire, wind stinging like nettles, piercing right through your insignificant form. Bones rattling with imminent death, breath frozen in the lungs.
We both wiped our feet on the doormat, which was as soaked as everything else. Arlene heaved the door open with excessive force, completely void of concern for the reaction of those inside the building, which was… sub-optimal, to say the least.
I had not yet noticed what an expensive place it was, but as soon as I spotted the two waitstaff near the entrance, I couldn’t help but say a prayer for my wallet, and our survival. Both of them nearly jumped out of their wool as soon as we entered, and almost immediately after, the more confident of the two stepped forward to shove us right back out the doors.
“Get out, get out! You’ll scare the patrons!” He hissed, below the chatter of the dining area.
“We’re not going back into the storm.” Arlene informed him.
“Oh yes you are, human.” The waitstaff corrected.
“We do not serve predators in this establishment.” The second educated further.
You’re not going to let them speak to her like that, are you?
I flicked my tail in disgust, and my voice bounded forth with unprecedented spirit. “Are you brahking dense? You can’t refuse service because she’s human.”
“What a farce. Do you seriously expect the exterminators to comply with that drivel?” The first questioned.
“Who in their right mind would let a blood thirsty animal into a place for eating? Do you want to get someone killed? Or are you just as mad?” Reiterated the second.
“What the fuck did you just say?” I inquired calmly.
Arlene grabbed me by the shoulders. “Hey, calm down. They’re just doing their jobs.”
Jobs? What do jobs have to do with this?
“You must be some sort of mad if you think we’re going back into that storm.” I explained.
The first waitstaff sighed. “Do you even have a reservation?”
“Of course we do!” I pulled my datapad out from its pocket. It wouldn’t turn on.
“What’s wrong?” Arlene asked.
“The rain killed it.” I replied.
“No reservation? I figured.” Said the first waitstaff, with an extremely punchable look on his face. “Then, if you please. Get. Out.”
“Now hold on just a second,” Arlene said, with palms raised in some sort of odd threat display. “it’s murder out there. Won’t you let us stay at least until the rain lets up?”
“Most certainly not.” Said the first.
“Not a chance.” Echoed the second.
“Look, I’m sorry about my friend, he’s on edge because of the storm. We won’t be long, just until it’s safe to leave.” She pleaded.
Some of the people dining noticed the commotion at the door, and more than a few shot sidelong glances at us. Gusts of wind blew against the door, shaking it against the little foyer we were standing in.
As the waitstaff were about to give their rebuttal, I spotted a familiar coat near the back of the dining room, ducking out from behind a covered booth. A small figure, with sandy fur, and a look of endless confidence on his face: Gram. He made his way towards the entrance, stopped a few paces from the foyer, rubbed his eyes, pinched himself, rubbed his eyes again, and then hid a deranged snicker behind his paw.
“H-hey Meba.” He let out a muffled giggle. “Doormen giving you trouble?”
I rolled my eyes.
Gram addressed the waitstaff. “Don’t worry, he’s with me.”

He waited to call me, he literally thought about my sleep and that he’d called to wake me up a couple times already this past week so he thought no I’ll let her sleep and call at a more normal time. Is he not the most thoughtful thing? My baby. He woke me right out of a dream, it was an odd one which I cbf going into, but I was making a friend in it, I don’t know who but the dream was partly me trying to be friends with this other girl. Maybe it’s a sign I’ll find a new friend soon :) Anyway so he called and we chatted while he finished making up his keyboard. It sounds so good, like sooooo good. Like creamy marbley rain drop goodness. It’s funny because I thought his last keyboard sounded delicious, but in comparison to the new one the old one makes me envision large spiders tip tapping along a corrugated iron roof. Whereas the new one sounds like sitting by a fire with a hot chocolate with marshmallows and being read a story while the rain pitter patters outside. I wonder if this new one will sound like spiders whenever he makes a newer one? I’m truly such a fickle thing. They all sound good though, obviously. He said how when we live together he’ll make one for me! Or rather he’ll guide me through the process, because I need to pick the sounds and colours and feelings out. I’m not sure what I’d like it to be like, I’ll have to start thinking. I flip between wanting something cute, like a pink one with strawberries and hearts and glitter and then a sleek, profesh looking one. A light one? Or a dark one? And I have no idea about the sounds, but he’ll help me. And then we can make it up together! It sounds so fun, I really can’t wait. Anyway so he called and it’s still my favourite way to wake up.
Then we hung up and I was laying in bed debating whether I should get up or doze and I ended up having dirty lil thoughts about him… twice. I can be so boring with my lil fantasies now, I can’t entirely remember now what I thought about but it was just us two. I think he thinks I think about someone else involved more than I do, I definitely do but nowhere near as often as just him. I sound like a total creepy perve but I’ve even thought about just him… but I’ll be dead and buried before I ever tell him that. And that saying something because I think I’d like to be cremated… TBD on that. But so anyway, thinking about just me and him is always my favourite and works the fastest every single time. My honey baby handsome man.
I truly have a life full of first world problems, it makes me feel so guilty sometimes. I say sometimes because I only think about how lucky I am sometimes, which makes me feel even more guilty. There are SO many horrible awful things happening in the world to people who absolutely do not deserve a hair on their heads touched.. and here I am lambasting my cuticles for being in good condition after I bought some products to tidy them up. I just caught myself out before, I was looking at my cuticles and was negatively thinking about how clean they look lately - I’m not surprised I found a way to be negative about something good. They definitely need some nourishment and cuticle oil and things, but they’re so clean and neat? Why? I haven’t done anything? Anyway I caught myself looking at them thinking ffs why do they look nice I need to fix them - firstly that makes no sense and secondly it hit me a second later how terrible it was. And then the guilt washed over me and there are children dying across the world for no reason and here I am critiquing my cuticles. I truly don’t think I deserve the air I breathe sometimes. More than sometimes. I know I’m not a person that adds anything to this world, if anything I just take from it by worsening the health of the planet with the plastic, travel etc etc I do. I do my best to save bees who look sickly? That’s about it. I don’t bring joy to anyone else - I mean I make Andy miserable, I probably stress and worry my parents… I think the only one I bring any semblance of joy to is pups because I play with him and take him for walks and cuddle him and I won’t move an inch if he’s comfy and I’m not. Other than that… I offer nothing. So like I said, I am drenched in guilt. I wonder how I can change it? Or how I can offer more? I just feel like I have nothing to actually offer, even if I gave everything up. I guess physical labour…? But even then, I’m not strong and my hand skin is so sensitive so I can only really do so much before it hurts and gets bad. But I guess if I wasn’t being selfish I would ignore my skin, wouldn’t I? I would really like to volunteer. I used to a bit here and there, before I really got bad with my mental health. Not a lot but sometimes. I’d like to make it more of a regular thing - it’s something I’ve talked about in therapy about it being a part of the life I’m working towards. I’m thinking once every three weeks or so, so still nothing impactful but it’s something? I think I’d like to volunteer at an animal shelter, I wouldn’t mind even cleaning up their little areas and things, idk why but I don’t find animal stuff gross whereas I do people stuff. Then again I’ve only had to clean up after an animal I love with my whole heart so maybe it would be different for other ones, I could do it though. Or I’d like to volunteer at a retirement home, or visiting elderly people at their own homes. Just spend time with them, it makes my heart hurt to think of how lonely some of them can be and coming from someone who feels extremely lonely I would want to lessen that - especially in their final years. They’re the main places I’d like to volunteer. I’ve done time in “soup kitchens” here and in the UK, which I enjoyed, I only worked in the kitchen though helping prepare things and cleaning up - every time I wasn’t allowed out the front to serve, which is weird because I have LOTS of experience with that sort of thing? The way they implied it was that I was a young woman, but still? I guess 99% of those visiting there would be fine but maybe 1% wouldn’t be? Still though. Anyway I’d like to volunteer more. I need to learn to be comfy leaving the house first, maybe get my social anxiety under control a little more but I don’t need to be perfect because doing these things will help my issues. What else could I do? I donate to charities and have for years, sometimes I’ve had monthly deductions, sometimes I just donate on a whim. Like that fresh water one, I can’t remember the name off the top of my head but every few months I impulsively donate $100 or so. It’s not enough though, I should be better. I just get suss of the charities themselves and I don’t know how much actually goes to the cause, like I know they need to fund admin costs which makes sense but anyway. I just don’t have any skills, so other than vague stuff there’s not any real impact I can offer. Andy for example, he’s so talented and clever and creative, I bet he would have ways to make an impact. Like if he was to visit elderly people it would be SUCH a success as he’s so chatty and personable and kind and lovely and everything that’s good, so he would keep them entertained and ask the right questions. Whereas I’m not a talker so I would be awkward and quiet and they would have to lead the conversation and they likely don’t want that, unless I asked to be paired with chatty kathys of course. My nana was like that, you ask one question and she won’t stop talking for an hour. At least from memory, I don’t remember so well as I was littler. Hm. Anyway. I just feel like I’m a big time detractor of the world. That’s kind of a good villain name, The Detractor. Another way I can offer more is to be better, for example if I’m better then I don’t make Andy miserable which means he would feel more encouraged to live his life happily which would therefore positively affect everyone who comes into contact with him, which I know happens now anyway but maybe if he has a supportive loving girlfriend it will be even more so? Like I can be a lil battery for him, because I don’t really like interacting with others too much, or I do but I don’t like to be an active member, I like to listen and observe and chime in every now and then. None of this makes sense. But if I’m better then that has a positive effect on people around me. That’s what I’m trying to say. I’m always polite though, like if I take the bus I always say thank you when I hop off, I always say thank you when a waiter refills my drink or puts down my cutlery or whatever else. Even when I don’t want to talk at all and an Uber driver clearly does I will chat away even though my social battery is running on fumes because I don’t want them to feel rejected and maybe they need to chat, even if it’s about nothing. I always put supermarket trollies back into their homes. I never litter. I hold doors open for people, but only when it means they won’t have to do an awkward run for it because that’s not polite that’s annoying. So I think I’m polite, but a polite person does not make a good person - and I am not a good person. Or a worthwhile one.
So far this morning I have chatted to Andy, got up and made a strawbs smoothie, did a lil kitchen clean/tidy up, went back to lay on my bed but not IN bed and I read for a little bit, I journaled the bit up there and now I’m watching some YT. I’m really trying to stretch out my read time of this book, I’m excited to get into HP after this one but I also don’t want to let go of this world and these characters yet, even though it’s a reread. I’d like to have a productive day but I’m also going to let myself do whatever I fancy… I hope I fancy being productive.
I wound up reading/watching about those body and face types again, because a YT video came up as suggested. Anyway, so apparently you can be more yin or yang and I’m a definite yin. Yang is more angular, sharp and blunt whereas yin is soft, rounded and curved. I also feel like I’m a yin person, I was reading about that recently, I think I need to actively work to have more yang in my life in order to be more balanced? I mean these descriptors? Negative, passive, feminine, dark, cool, soft, reflective, still, calm, nurture, quiet, introspective, prefers solitude, cautious etc. Hellllllllllllo. Whereas yang is more embodied by words like active, light, warm, outgoing/sociable, masculine, direct, expressive, loud, restless, productive, growth, passion etc. Things that don’t really describe me. So I think maybe in that sense I’m imbalanced. It seems I’m imbalanced in everything, so that’s great. Excellent, even. I feel like Andy is 100% the yang to my yin. Maybe that’s a factor in why we work well? We balance each other? I think he has a mix of both though, he’s much more balanced. I was about to write “he’s perfect” but I am also a biased, love sick girl soooo… but I think we balance each other well, no? Anyway I’m reading more about yin vs yang and I definitely need more Yang in me because these are all yin:
Signs of “excess” in yin: * Oversleeping * Overthinking * Slow thinking * Sluggishness * Laziness * Compulsive behaviour * Lack of motivation * Apathy * Overeating :(
Versus yang that lists things like anger, restlessness, violence, frustration, inability to relax & let go, insomnia, addictions, need for constant stimulation, regular headaches etc.
And “personality traits” in yin: * imagination * peacefulness * wisdom (not for meee) * relaxation * satisfaction (?) * persistence (only with some things) * introversion
Versus yang that lists things like action, ambition, courage, adventurousness, extroversion, getting things done etc.
And “activities” for yin: * yoga * tai chi * slow walking * golf * qi gong * weight lifting * stretching
Versus yang that lists things like cardio, running, fast dancing, wrestling, hiking, swimming, biking etc.
Anyway I know this is all just one of those things, but also it makes total sense. But this reminds me of the therapy lesson where I learned I like these sorts of things, similar to the Myers Briggs thing etc, because I don’t really know who I am and so I find being grouped into a category really affirming and makes me feel less… outsidey. Which is a thing for me as I don’t easily click with people, I can get along fine with more or less anyone but I don’t genuinely enjoy the company of just anyone and I find it very difficult to be myself with just anyone, I have some form of a wall up with everyone bar a couple of people like my parents, Andy, M and K to an extent. But it also depends, if I don’t spend time with someone for awhile my walls go back up. It’s a huge reason why I don’t really enjoy social things, if it’s a one on one thing I can but in a group? Even with the girls from work who I know well, but I can’t relax and I don’t enjoy myself at all. I try to but I just feel like I’m outside of the bubble. But so anyway all that is why I gravitate towards these groupings of personality, even looks like the fact I was watching a video about face/body types which is why I started this paragraph. I like being able to see examples and do a quiz and find out I’m whatever and then seeing similarities in others who are in the group. It makes me feel included and less alone. It basically all comes down to the fact I always feel like I’m on the outside, of everything. I don’t feel included in anything really. Which comes back to my self esteem/self worth… or lack thereof. I’m wondering when I’m meant to be getting more of that btw, like WHEN? It’s the root of all my issues. Mostly.
I’ve been wondering if I should consider lightening my eyebrows… that sounds kinda crazy, well crazy in the land of eyebrow stuff, but idk. I have warm brown hair… but basically black eyebrows? It’s weird and I’ve always hated it. I know eyebrows always lean cooler than the hair on your head, so that’s natural, but idk, it’s just my hair is so warm and my brows so cool - it’s always irked me. I’ve never quite realised it was that though, I just always thought something was off, but I’m now starting to wonder if my brows should be ever so lightened. I never even thought of it as a potential solution til I saw some girl doing it and it gave her a much softer look. I know they also need to be darker by a shade or two, well they don’t NEED to be but that’s generally the natural look and I only want a natural result. So a deep brown? Because right now they’re damn near black. And I find the black jarring against my fair skin too, I like having dark brows - I would hate to have light/fair brows, and dark brows are supposedly wanted because they make the person with them appear younger, or rather fair brows can age a face. So I like that mine are dark… I just want them MAYBE a fraction lighter. But the idea scares me! Because if you bleach them then anything you add on top will likely lean super warm and idk. So idk how I’d even go about it. The woman I watched doing it on YT just used an at home bleach kit or something and she used it several times so I guess it won’t do much but still… I’m scared :(
I set up my new monitor!!!!!!!!!!! By myself!!!!!!! I know how tiny it is but I’m still so pleased with myself. I felt so embarrassed telling Andy, or less embarrassed and more silly/stupid I guess. Like it’s such a nothing thing but idk, I was nervous and I wrote out a step by step list to work through so I wouldn’t get overwhelmed and things while doing it. And when I say step by step I literally mean:

1. Unwrap the boxes and take each item out
2. Make sure to keep them in their own little areas and don’t mix them up
3. Clear my desk of everything
4. Clean my desk
5. Set up the new monitor with the stand
6. Place both monitors on the desk
7. Plug both monitors into power source
8. Put laptop on the desk
9. Put the HDMI connector usb into the laptop
10. Put one monitor HDMI cable into the laptop, as normal
11. Put the other monitor HDMI cable into the connecter
12. Connector should be connected to laptop with only one external HDMI a cable inside
13. Turn on my laptop and see if they all connect up - don’t stress if they don’t
14. Play around/google/ask Andy if any issues
15. Arrange my new desk! Try use the cable tidy things and make it nice.

So I mean, an absolute step by step. It didn’t cover all the steps as I forgot about the mouse parts and things. But anyway I did itttttt. I need to move the stuff around though because they’re too far apart but I’ll do that tomorrow. I also need to work out how to add an extra plug so I can charge my laptop too as there’s not enough plugs.
I asked him if he wanted to watch Bridg erton and I wish I hadn’t because he feels weird about it. I only asked because idk, wishful thinking? I want to watch it with him :( From season one, obviously. Idk I know he doesn’t want to so I won’t push it, but I want to show him shows I love too. I just like regency era stuff like this and idk. I shouldn’t have asked, now he thinks I want to watch with someone else? Like… who? I guess mum or M. But why get suss about that. Anyway. I guess I’ll watch it by myself, like I expected. I can’t wait for the music. And the costumes!!!!!!!! My favourite. Anyway idk. I just want to share things I love with him the way he does with me.. but maybe I just don’t like anything he’ll like?
I want the Laura Mercier strawberry blush a lot :( But I’m really trying to not buy makeup I don’t need and I already have 30-odd blushes which I don’t get enough use out of, including LM ones. But it’s such a pretty colour!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wish I had a trillion dollars so I could have all the colours and formulas my little heart desired. But also in saying that I love the idea of being one of those women who have one makeup bag and everything fits inside, and they have maybe one or two shades or blush/lip colour and the rest is just one. It seems so easy and simple and I would really like to be like that but I am definitely not like that at all. I’m slowly learning to be more like that with skincare because that’s how it should be, but makeup…? Even though I don’t wear a lot I just love having it and looking at it. Like I just swiped some highlighter on my hand the other day to look at how shimmery it was, I didn’t apply it to my face, I just had a tiny swipe on my hand and I’d just look at it now and then. I only do that with highlighter though obviously and I love shimmery glittery sparkly things. Mum has always called me a magpie for a reason.
He’s asleep. I miss him. I can’t wait til we live together and when he’s asleep and I’m not and I miss him I can just go snuggle in next to him for a while. But not too close, as he gets too hot. I also don’t want to wake him. The idea of him doing the same with me makes me feel like floating on a cloud. And the time he said he’d still cuddle me to sleep even when he was on a different sleep cycle to me??????? Still obsessed. I wonder if that was a turning point in when my feelings were developing? I know I already fancied the hell out of him, I did from the beginning and I fell so hard and so fast for him. But I wonder if when he said that it was one of those moments that cemented him as the kind of man he is? Or rather the kind of partner he’d be? Because I’ve always wanted someone that cares about what makes me happy and I mean let’s not beat around the bush, I’ve not had a relationship where that’s been a priority to them. So the fact he knows I love being held and cuddled and I would sometimes miss it when he slept differently but if I wanted it he’d come to bed and stay with me til I fell asleep or close enough. And the fact he didn’t see it as anything special, it was just a normal thought to him?! It’s such a minor thing in comparison to everything else he has done for me and everything he has been to me and everything he’s helped me through, but it’s just a little thing that means everything. Anyway.
I watched wish with M tonight, it wasn’t good. I just can’t get on board with the latest movies of theirs lately, they’re just so bleh. The music isn’t right - there’s nothing magical about it and I wonder if it’s because they seem to hire pop music people not composers and things now? And the animation is never 2D anymore, which tbh I understand and that’s purely nostalgia of mine than anything bad but the animation doesn’t feel magical either anymore. Apart from some of the scenes were beautiful. Anyway.
I think I’ll stop now. It’s 9:30 so it’s too late for to start BT so I think I’ll read for a lil bit then go to sleep soon. Night night