me a couple of weeks ago: semi randomly decided to make my clan wolf oc from the 352nd assault cluster

me today, reading the clan wolf sourcebook: sasha did you help conquer rasalhague

sasha, swinging his legs and drinking a juice box: yeah (:

me: you know this is why mirjam doesn’t like you right

sasha: ):

Duality - Chapter Eight (The Irony of the Situation is Palpable)

Dinner felt like it had been going on for hours, even though it had only been minutes since Kaos had sat down at the table. He poked and prodded at his food with the back of his fork, the metal slightly tarnished from use, sectioning them off from each other. Charred sheepsteak in one corner of the plate, over-boiled potatoes and soggy string beans in the other. Kaos sighed, leaning his head against the palm of his hand, his nose wrinkling at the smell wafting from his plate. Hot socks and wet starch. No matter how many times he had it, he’d never get used to the scent.

Kaos glanced up from his plate to the seat across from him. There sat the person he had dreaded seeing all night. His father. Kaos’ father had always been a cold man, but tonight he seemed positively glacial. Icy blue eyes seemed to stare straight through Kaos as his father ate wordlessly, the silence punctuated by the clinking of cutlery on porcelain. Kaos would have thought that he would have been chewed out the moment his father laid eyes on him, but the conversation had halted at “hello”. His father threw his long hair over his shoulder, which he had tied in a low ponytail. His usually clean-shaven face was dotted with stubble, though it was barely noticeable against his tanned skin.

“Your food’s going to get cold, Kaos.” His father finally spoke up. “Don’t let it go to waste.”

Kaos furrowed his brow, then looked down to his plate, sticking the end of his fork in the corner of his mouth. When he noticed his father’s gaze was still trained on him, he let out a reluctant grumble, reaching across the table to grab the gravy boat. His fingers barely brushed against the handle, even after he had stood up on his chair to try to get a little more leverage. Kaos strained to reach farther, feeling his father’s eyes boring into his skull, before he slowly pushed the gravy boat towards Kaos. Kaos snatched it up, sitting back down with a huff, before completely dousing his plate in lukewarm, watery gravy. Beside him, Dyskord snickered.

“It’s steak, Kaos, not soup.”

“Shut up.”

Resisting the urge to puke, Kaos scooped up one of the potatoes, the misshapen sphere only held together by its sandpapery skin. He looked to his father once more, scrunched his eyes closed, then took a bite. The gravy did nothing to mask the taste of starch and stale water that seemed to make his entire body seize up. This seemed to satisfy his father, though, as he had returned to his own meal without another word. Kaos stuck his tongue out, wiping the mush off to the best of his ability with his napkin, shuddering as the taste lingered. His mother definitely had a talent for cooking; the potatoes were somehow both undercooked and overcooked at the same time. Not even he could complete a feat like that. Kaos looked around the table, questioning how his siblings were managing to eat this swill with straight faces. Meyhem even seemed to be enjoying it, taking particular glee in chopping the rubbery sheepsteak into slices and hitting them against her plate before eating them. Kaos poked at his own steak, then felt his stomach churn as he swore he saw the charred lump move.

“So, children. Catch me up. What’s happened since I’ve been gone?”

Kaos nearly dropped his fork, feeling his heart stop. He looked up, glancing around the table to see who would speak up first. Was this a setup? Was this his way to catch Kaos red-handed? Make him out to be the villain? He watched as his father adjusted his ascot, then tucked it back into his shirt. He hadn’t bothered changing from his grimy, nature soiled adventuring gear - despite Mother insisting they had to dress up to welcome him back. At least he had taken off his hat for dinner.

“I mean, it’s been nearly a year, what don’t we have to say?” Dyskord fiddled with his collar.

“At least it wasn’t five, right Dad?” Meyhem giggled. “Mum told me that’s the longest you’ve been away!”

“It was only four and a half, Mey.”

“Four and a half, on and off.” Mother corrected. “Your father stopped by when he could, just not for very long.”

Kaos’ father chuckled dryly, dabbing the corners of his mouth off with his napkin. “Now now, let’s get back on topic. How about we narrow it down to today if that helps?”

Kaos couldn’t help but fixate on the patronising tone to his father’s voice, as if it was their fault he had been gone for so long. He didn’t speak up about it though, simply sinking into his chair as if trying to shrink even smaller as he chewed on the prongs of his fork, pretending to eat.

“I got a W on my sheepball practice this morning!” Meyhem piped up through a mouthful of string beans, bouncing up and down in her seat. She had stuck the fork in her hair, the handle sticking out of the mess of curls.

“A double U?” Kaos’ father raised an eyebrow, looking at Meyhem quizzically. “I didn’t know they started grading sheepball practices… The more you know I suppose.”

As Meyhem laughed to herself, Father locked eyes with Kaos, then skipped past him, addressing Dyskord instead.

“How about you, son? Anything interesting happen?”

“Nah, just more of the usual.” Dyskord rested his hands behind his head. He probably would have rested his feet on the table too if it weren’t for the side eye Mother was giving him. “Worked on the speed racer a bit, helped Kaos with his homework like a good big brother, et cetera.”

Kaos rolled his eyes. First day back and Dyskord was already sucking up to him. Typical. It was usually the other way around, Kaos would ‘help’ Dyskord by doing his homework for him back when he was in school; in exchange for favors of course. But after Kaos crashed the ‘Speed Racer 1.0’ into the kitchen, that arrangement they had created was quickly dissolved. Though Kaos would still sometimes help out of the goodness of his heart (or the need for Dyskord not to rat him out to Mother)

“Very good, very good. You’ll have to show me sometime.” Kaos’ father smiled, then he turned his focus to Kaos, his expression becoming slightly more forced. “What about you… Kaos?”

He said his name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Kaos felt his blood run cold. He quickly glanced to his mother, who had started to open her mouth, but quickly interrupted her.

“It was fine.” He looked to the ground, crossing his arms.

“Just fine?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing of note-”

“No.”

“Don’t interrupt me, boy.”

Kaos sank further down, muttering under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Havok, dear, there’s something we need to-”

Before his mother could finish her sentence, Meyhem tuned into the conversation, looking to Kaos with a confused look on her face.

“What do you mean? Of course there was something of note, you blew up your school!” She blurted out.

The table fell silent. Kaos’ mother was the first to break the silence, exhaling slowly. Kaos shot Meyhem a glare that could cut through steel, though she just grinned back sheepishly. Kaos’ father’s gaze went from confused to frigid in a manner of seconds, looking down at Kaos like he was nothing but a roach.

“Well, I think I should get going,” Dyskord pushed his chair back, getting to his feet, “Wonderful meal, Mother, I’ll be upstairs if anyone needs-”

“Sit, Dyskord.”

“Yessir.” Dyskord sat down quickly, folding his hands in his lap.

Kaos’ father looked around the table at the others, then closed his eyes, processing the words.

“...when were you planning on telling me?” His voice was low, like the calm before the storm.

“I was going to tell you when you got home, sweetheart, but dinner got in the way, and I didn’t want to stress you with the-”

Kaos’ mother was cut off by Kaos’ father getting to his feet, pushing his chair back with a sharp squeak of the legs against the tile. He set his hands down on the table forcefully, causing it to shudder from the force. Kaos could feel beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, but he did his best to ignore them.

“Kaos. We have told you many times about correct behaviour, have we not?”

“Yes, but, it wasn’t only me! Dyskord helped-”

“Kaos. We are not talking about Dyskord. We are talking about you and your actions today. And those actions crossed the line.”

Kaos opened his mouth to interject once more, to try and contradict his father’s statements, but the words got lodged in his throat. The look of displeasure plastered across his father’s face, the cold, hard anger burning in his eyes, made Kaos chest tighten. Slowly, Kaos closed his mouth and slouched down in his chair, letting Father continue.

“I can take rule-breaking. The lying, the stealing, we’ve dealt with those before. But this- this is unacceptable! I have had enough of this deplorable behaviour from you, Kaos. You are turning nineteen this year, and these childish habits are out of the question!” With every word he spat, Kaos’ father’s voice rose. “What image do you paint of our family when you act like a child-”

“Maybe because you treat me like one!” It was Kaos’ turn to shout now. He stood up on his chair, slamming his hands down on the table like his father had; though even with all of his force behind it he could barely even cause the water in the glasses to ripple. “Maybe if you didn’t treat me like a baby, like a disgrace to the family name, I wouldn’t act this way! Ever thought of that, Father!? Hmm?! You said it yourself. I am turning FREAKING NINETEEN! I’M NOT THE FRAIL, SICKLY CHILD I WAS! AND I DON’T NEED YOU TO LOOK AFTER ME ANY MORE!”

“Kaos, I am done dealing with this kind of conduct from you!”

“Whatcha gonna do! Lock me in the dungeons? Throw away the key? Discard me like the piece of trash you treat me like?!”

“Up to your room. Now.”

“Oh, so no threatening me with a life sentence this time, eh Father?”

“NOW!”

Kaos didn’t budge. The seconds ticked past like molasses, before Kaos gave his father the one finger salute and hopped off the chair, making a break for it up to his room. His father’s enraged yelling echoed through the halls after him as Kaos bolted up the stairs, down the hallway and into his room. He made sure to slam the door closed, as loud as he could, behind him. Leaning against the door, he could still feel the shouting rattling through his skull, and the tears brimming in the corners of his vision.

Tick tick tick tick...

Kaos turned over onto his side, facing the wall. His fingers dug into the sides of his head as he scrunched his eyes closed, desperately attempting to fall asleep. So far, nothing had come of it. Kaos groaned, rolling onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with dry, bloodshot eyes. The darkness swirled and twirled around his vision, making shapes on the ceiling. Despite it slipping late into the night, Kaos could still hear his parents down on the ground floor. Bickering. Arguing. Talking about him.

Tick, tick, tick, tick

Kaos dug his fingers in harder, scrunching his eyes shut.

Tick, tick, tick, tick

“Shut. Up.” Kaos grumbled through clenched teeth. How was he supposed to get any rest with that noise growing louder and louder by the second. He flipped onto his front, folding the sides of the pillow over his ears. Not that it would do much good.

Tick, tick, tick, tick

“Shut up!” Kaos growled, slightly louder than before, though his voice was muffled by the pillowcase he was biting on. He buried his face deeper into the pillow, feeling the mattress below with the tip of his nose. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t stop.

Tick tick tick tick tick

“SHUT THE HELL UP!”

With a start, Kaos ripped the pillow out from under him and chucked it to the side with all of his might. It flew over the side of the bed and crashed against the far wall with a muffled thump, followed by the sound of clattering. With a groan, Kaos looked up from his bed and over to where the pillow had landed… on top of his desk. It had knocked over his writing utensil jar, spilling the quills and pencils onto the floor. Kaos exhaled slowly, exasperated and exhausted. He rolled onto his back, then sat up, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath, Kaos scrunched his eyes closed and pushed himself off the edge of the bed, landing with a quiet thump. He braced himself for the sharp tingling that flooded up his legs on impact, opening one eye, then the other as he shook his legs out to get rid of the feeling. Kaos walked over to his desk and scooped up the fallen utensils, dumping them back into their container, before snatching up his pillow and starting the walk of shame back to his bed.

“He’s more trouble than he’s worth, sweetheart.”

Kaos froze, hearing his father's muffled voice come through the closed door. He could see the light of the fireplace curling and flickering through the crack, taunting him, drawing him to the outside like a beckoning finger. Ignoring the growing urge to sleep, Kaos walked over to the door and cracked it open, squinting as he peered out from the safety of his room.

“I know, but he is getting better-”

“You call blowing up his school 'getting better’?”

Silence followed those words. Carefully, Kaos crept from his bedroom to the railing, watching his parents’ shadows silhouetted against the carpeted floor of the foyer. They faced away from each other, wrapped up in their own tasks as the crackle of the fire punctuated the quiet.

“...What should we do?” Mother spoke first, “He needs to be educated, but we already tried homeschooling… and he needs more interaction than just his siblings. That room is not a good environment for him.”

“He spends most of his time in there, I swear he’s plotting world domination.”

Kaos scrunched his nose up, kneeling down to get a better view. He pressed his face against the railings, letting his arm hang down between them. So what if he spent almost every waking, and sleeping, moment locked up in there? It was his life, he could do what he wanted with it. And it wasn’t like Father was there often enough to actually care. Judging by the silence falling once again, his mother wasn’t too pleased with the comment either.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know how touchy you get with those subjects.”

Kaos silently gagged as he watched his father’s shadow embrace his mother’s, forming nothing but an amorphous blob of darkness and PDA. He heard his mother sigh, his father stepping back.

“It’s alright, dear. I’m just... worried. More and more is stuff happening with work and the Portal Masters, and now Kaos...”

“Don’t fret. We’ll sort everything out. I’m sure of it.”

Again, silence. With the ticking finally slipping away, his mind was now free to think. Free to pick up on things that would have usually been blocked. It always seemed like it was put there to distract him, to pull his mind away from the little tidbits of knowledge he overheard. In this case, it was the mention of the Portal Masters…

Over the years, Kaos had heard that title pop up, whether it be through books, passing conversation, or his mother. Tales of the big bad Portal Masters that would eat your eyes if you didn’t clean your room or go to bed on time, though over the years Kaos had stopped believing those little lies, and Mother had stopped telling them; simply commanding Kaos to “mind his own business” or “not to stick his nose in other people’s business” whenever he asked about them. Though, from bits and pieces of conversations he had ‘stuck his nose into’, Kaos had been able to glean that the Portal Masters were the worst of the worst; the ones causing all of the issues throughout the Skylands. Though they didn’t actually eat naughty children’s eyeballs (as far as he knew), they definitely weren’t to be taken lightly.

“I didn’t want to bring this up until the end of the year, but... now I see no other option.”

Kaos was yanked from his thoughts, looking back down through the railings at the sound of the conversation resuming.

“What is it?”

“While exploring a while back, I found a school that may be a bit more suited for our… genius child,” Kaos couldn’t help but cringe at the way his father said ‘genius’, spitting it out like a mushy, over-boiled potato. “And now that going back to the other school isn’t an option, it may be a good choice to look further into it.”

“What’s it called, dear?”

“Glimfeather Prep. Now, before you say anything, I know it’s out of the way, but I really do think this would be good for him. It would give him a taste of reality, and would help crack down on this… behavioral issue of his. We can’t coddle him forever; today only further proves that.”

As if locking him in the dungeon was ‘coddling’ him. Kaos felt more coddled by a pack of wild Chompies trying to pull his flesh off of his bones.

His mother sighed, turning away from his father. “I don’t know, Havok. Maybe we could try homeschooling again. He wouldn't get into trouble and I’m sure I could straighten him out properly this time-”

“Kaossandra, we both know that won’t work.” His father’s voice took on a stern tone, making Kaos tense up, as if expecting the words to punch him in the face. “If homeschooling didn’t work before, there’s no chance it would now.”

“...You’re right, Havok. We can look into it in the morning.” Mother finally caved, hanging her head with a long sigh.

Kaos could almost see his father’s shadow grinning as he put an arm around Mother, the battle already won before Kaos even had a chance to fight. He felt his heart sink, dragged down to the pit of his stomach by the icy hand of defeat. He stared blankly through the bars, his mind grinding to a stop. All of that work, that preparation, that planning… for nothing? Kaos yawned, curling into himself as a weight settled on his shoulders. He could feel his eyelids drooping, but he forced them open again at the sound of heavy footsteps coming towards the stairs. In a panic, Kaos scrambled to his feet, trying not to make a ruckus as he fled back to his room; his heavy heart pounding like a drum, threatening to burst. Internal bleeding would have been the moldy cherry on the fish head sundae, so he was thankful it didn’t. Dragging his pillow along the ground behind him, Kaos completed his walk of shame back to his bed, flopping down face first in his nest of blankets and loose sheets of paper. He had failed. Situational irony at his finest, he thought. Hugging his pillow like one would a plush, Kaos finally let his eyes fall closed, the darkness enveloping his mind as he slipped into the land of dreams.

<- previous chapter | next chapter ->

[October 13, 2020]

♡ Mercury retrograde in Scorpio is happening tonight. I can already feel/see it's influence. It also doesn't help matters that my current household is primarily made up of Scorpios or Plutonian individuals (most of my roommates are "essential workers" like EMTs or caretakers). Brad (the most Scorpio of the house) has called for a rare consideration; that there be silence in the living room (communal space) when he comes home. He's never asked for that before. This feels very symbolic of Mercury Retrograde in Scorpio. A moment of silence in our otherwise very talkative household. Besides that, he's coming home right around the time MRX/Scorpio would be officially beginning.

♤ Identifying omens is part of my practice. It's one of my oldest, foundational, cornerstones of how I communicate with the Universe and my guides. When you notice something (really notice it) to the point that it stands out in your mind and you end up thinking on it all day, it is an "omen". A symbolic representation of the message the Universe is sending you. I was given an omen by the Universe yesterday as to the immediate future/Mercury RX in Scorpio. I was outside (smoking) when I saw a hawk soaring in the air, being pursued by two black crows, and navigating around their assaults. The hawk (personally) represents my spiritual vision/focus/accuracy. The two crows, I believe, represented thoughts that attack my focus. I.e. Huginn and Muninn, thought and memory. Although, Huginn and Muninn are technically ravens. Not crows. I still think the message from the Universe is to tame my PTSD/where my mind goes/stay focused on my goals instead of letting my negative thoughts pick at me.

Also kind of reminds me of the qliphothic sphere/inverted sphere of Netzach. Where the "crows" pick at the beauty of Source. Another reminder to keep my inner criticism from attacking my spiritual focus/my ability to see the beauty in my life and self.

Two other people in the household got omens on the same day as me. One person got a vulture eating roadkill on the side of the road, the other got a brown cricket. Since the vulture means rebirth and ressurection through shadow work, I think the household is going through a transitional phase (what affects one person in the house typically touches all of us). I am not certain on the brown cricket, however. Good luck? What struck me the most about it was that my roommate was trying to catch it...and it always knew when to hop away just in the nick of time.

♧ I've been rearranging/unpacking my boxes from Seattle finally. For a long time now, I've just been living out of boxes, and refusing to do much magic. I didn't even set up my altar when I got all my stuff back from [Redacted abuser]. It's taken awhile to even get myself back to directly communicating with my guides...much less the Universe/Source. Anyways, I'm finally going through my boxes, and setting up an official altar area. When I was getting into my old rock and crystal collection (I was into that stuff way back before I realized how harmful the crystal/gemstone trend is for Earth's environment), I found an old piece of Mookaite that I friend gave me. And I shit you not, the thing physically vibrated in my hand when I touched it.

I've been holding it ever since. Have totally and honestly forgotten all the exact properties of the stones I own. It's been such a long time. I was also practicing "crystal/crystal energy psychicism" when I was homeless as a means to survive the streets so...I'm pretty sure my PTSD is blocking a lot of that information out.

I guess it's time to rediscover crystals again? Not buying any new ones. Just utilizing the ones I already have to the best of my ability. I feel like it was wrong that so many of them were taken from the ground to be pretty baubles for people. I might as well make it worth something by using them to help myself/others/incorporate them into my active life so they hold meaning.

Mookaite feels very grounding and soothing already. It feels like a very receptive stone, inviting energy into it much like organic pearls do. I also notice that it has almost a dream/trance-like affect to it's grounding energy. I think maybe I'll take time to meditate with it tomorrow.

◇ Brad pretty much runs the household that I live in. Further details; I live in a BDSM polycule, Brad is one of the doms. One of Brad's relationships was very close to being homeless recently. While normally, being homeless is... [redacted PTSD disassociating moment] being non-binary and homeless during COVID-19 is even worse. So we took them in. Inevitably, we had to make some major adjustments (about space, because technically we're fitting 9 people in a 2 bedroom house). It's been a test of adaptability through chaos for everyone. One of the major areas of contention is that everything inside the house is getting moved, rearranged, or tossed. And some people (mainly [redacted name]) is absolutely 100% terrible at adapting to change, unless someone is literally dying. Also, while I get that none of this can really be helped, I'm also a bit annoyed by the sudden introduction of someone new.

But even if I'm annoyed by it, I wasn't about to say "no" when Brad told us what was going on. I'm not a monster. I was homeless too and Brad helped me get off the streets. This person, while I don't know them well enough to make a judgement, deserves the same chance that I did to get stable in an era where stability is a pipe dream.

I'm actually not the one having the hardest problem. Surprising, it's the spirit of the house that's having the hardest problem. Our house is an old 1950's model built at the corner of a crossroads. Technically the house kinda exists as a liminal space. And there's so much stuffed inside of it that theoretically anything *could exist* in the house. Sometimes weird shit pops up and then disappears. It's very similar to the Seattle house I lived in when I was with [KILL BILL SIRENS] but has less of a metaphorical underworld cave vibe and more of a Howl's Moving Castle vibe. Anyways, the house itself is having a bad time adjusting to all the change/cleaning that the new roommate is doing...because it keeps hiding and moving (specifically) all the stuff that the new roommate has. They're not a stoner. They have a decently good memory. And I know that nobody in the house would do something like that. Plus, they apparently heard disembodied laughter right after discovering something was missing. The genuis locci (house spirit) is fucking with 'em hard.

I've never seen the genius locci do this before. The worst it ever did to me was hide a really expensive Egyptian cotton pillow case once. It eventually spat it back out after cuddling with it, I imagine. Seriously; Egyptian cotton sheets. Get you some.

So after the 100× time today that the new roommate was swearing about their missing things, I suggested that maybe they need to butter up the genius locci with gifts. Kinda romance the house a bit. Give it something so that it builds a relationship with the spirits that live here. They're a (self-professed) baby witch whose background is Jewish. They mostly excel at kitchen witchery (for now) and incorporating the works and wisdom of the Torah into their life. So they weren't too certain on ritualistic offerings to a house spirit. But with some suggestions from me and listening to their own intuition, they were able to put something quick together. It's nice to see people using magic around the house and learning new skills. And to their benefit, I felt the house chill out a bit after the ritual/gift giving was done.

I have been giving the house/my guides a portion of my nightly tea every now and then. It's honestly nothing fancy but I figure small gifts count for something right?

Second Chances

Melizabeth Week Day 4: Journey/Home

Elizabeth’s heart beat faster as a gust of wind hurried past and brushed her face. To avoid the backwards push of the current, she drifted sideways with a minimal flap of her wings, into the fluffy banks of a cloud. The tiny drops of water tickled her arms, and the nerves connecting her four wings to her spine bristled with an energy she still learned to adjust to. The white feathers could carry her farther than she could have ever walked, and as long as there was magical energy inside of her, they would never tire.

The sun warmed her skin, and joy fastened her pace as she rose to higher spheres where the winds blew in her favor.

The sharp sound of larger wings beating air confirmed that Meliodas had caught up to her, and when Elizabeth rolled midair to look skywards, he faced her with a wide grin. “Didn’t you say back-flying was a stupid stunt only invented for the purpose of showing off?” he asked and placed his hands on his hips in the most indignant and amusing position he could perform.

“I’m only taking this risk because I know you will catch me if I lose focus,” Elizabeth said. “You’ve always been there to catch me. And it offers me the opportunity to watch you.”

“Well, that’s a very good excuse, you can learn from the best Demon sky artist in all of Britannia. Although gotta say, the competition has become sparse recently.”

Elizabeth laughed and returned to the facedown position she was more familiar with. Her back had tensed during the short-lived performance, and she waggled her wings to prevent a cramp as she used the fading edges of an upcurrent to glide alongside Meliodas.

“I’m so happy for Arthur for what he has accomplished in Camelot already,” Elizabeth said. The images of their visit filled her inner eye, and she couldn’t help but awe in silent at the splendor the capital of the south had displayed. “In such a short amount of time, he has brought wealth and peace to his kingdom. And the citizens were so happy… I think in a few years Camelot will overtake Liones as the most powerful kingdom in Britannia.”

“At this pace it won’t take longer than a couple months I’d say. Every low-class Holy Knight is already begging to become part of Arthur’s elite. But he’s a good kid, he earned this victory.”

Elizabeth smiled. “He looked so proud when he guided us through the streets. Like a king people want to follow, no matter where he leads them.”

“Of course he’s proud of Camelot, it’s his home. He rebuilt that place with nothing but the crazy powers Merlin handed to him when he was barely old enough to drink.” Despite Meliodas’ joking comment, he failed to ban the bitterness from his voice in its entirety. A few grim lines had formed around his mouth.

“Are you still angry with Merlin?” Elizabeth asked. The shift in his expression confirmed she had been dead right with her assumption.

“Yeah, I am, and if I stop showing it, her dense head won’t pick up on the fact that she made a mistake. She hurt you. Even risked killing you. She won’t get away with it that easily.”

Elizabeth slowed her pace to examine the hills and cliffs and ranges of fine weather clouds around them. Merlin was their friend, moreover, she belonged to some of Elizabeth’s earliest memories of a time burdened with hardship but also beautiful, tender moments. What Merlin did might have been selfish, but Elizabeth had long forgiven her. And if Meliodas did the same, maybe their friendship would return to the better shape of days past.

“Merlin is your comrade, our friend,” Elizabeth said. “The Seven Deadly Sins were like a family to me when I journeyed with you across the land. And I know you feel the same, all these people mean more to you than your own happiness. You can’t tear this bond apart because Merlin has found something she dedicated all her efforts to. We both saw how happy she was to stand next to Arthur as his advisor. I will not begrudge her of the joy she had been searching all her life.”

Meliodas looked at her with an adoration strong enough to outshine the sun in the heavens above. “It seems I’ll never stop learning from your kindness and your strength.”

They continued their flight in silence, a warm, welcoming silence that never felt uncomfortable. One with the wind and the clouds, the Demon and the Goddess glided northwards, sometimes racing each other through the white, fluffy towers, then drifting along with lazy movements, their fingers interlaced. The delight filling Elizabeth’s heart like the warmth of an open fire in Liones’ castle during the cold winter months could only be tainted by the tiredness of her muscles.

As the exhaustion of her legs and arms pulled her downward below the clouds and allowed a glimpse at the landscape, Elizabeth’s heartbeat stumbled. Liones’ capital, with its uncounted houses of waddle and daub secluded by tall stone walls no human army had ever overcome, lay embedded into the hills of grass and bright yellow canola. An image of true beauty. They had almost reached their destination.

Elizabeth fell into a gentle dive to cross the remaining distance while Meliodas followed at her heels, ready to catch her if the long hours of travel claimed their toll on the last miles before the finish line. But Elizabeth was confident that she could make it, and as a metal finial caught the light between the treetops of a grove just outside the city, she steepened her flight path and hurried towards the beacon. The tented roof coming into view right after brought a smile to her face. The Boar Hat.

Home.

Over the course of 107 lifetimes, Elizabeth had lived in many houses, and for a while she might have called them home. The simple tent of Dusk Bison skin she had slept in during her time as a member of the savage tribe; the cabin of a trading vessel where each morning had been filled with the smell of salt and old wood; like a faint dream, the images of her first homeland, the massive alabaster towers of the Goddess Realm. The small house with the green door she had shared with Meliodas in Danafall had been especially dear to her. But all these could not compare to the tavern with its pointed rooftop and newly polished sign that identified the building as the ‘Boar Hat’.

When Elizabeth would one day breathe her last in this world, this place would be the one she would remember as her home Their home.

A few steps away from the porch, Elizabeth touched down on the ground with wobbling legs but with a joy in her heart so great it cramped her chest. Meliodas came to a hold beside her. But when he and Elizabeth entered the tavern room, they stopped dead in their tracks.

“SURPRISE!”

They had all gathered in the crowded space close to the entrance door, the Sins and company. Ban held out a massive apple-pie to the newcomers with a grin, Elaine clinging to his neck with a smile almost as wide. Gowther, dressed in the tavern uniform and covered with garlands of paper in more colors than Elizabeth could name, carried a tray stacked to the brim with mugs of ale while Hawk sniffed at his feet with a self-confident ‘pugoh’. Diane, who had been waiting at King’s side, rushed over to trap Elizabeth in a hearty embrace.

“Have you guys organized all this just for us?” Elizabeth asked once Diane had given her space to breathe.

“Sure,” Diane answered with a grin. “It’s been two months since we all got together like this, so we wanted to use the opportunity now that you have some time to lie low. You two are so hard to track down these days.”

“It was all master’s plan,” Ban said as he patted Meliodas’ unruly strands of hair, making full use of his height advantage. “He informed Gowther, who happened to be in town, about when ya’ll be back home. He’s the one to get the whole party running.”

Elizabeth dropped to her knees to give Hawk a hug. “Thank you, this is wonderful, Hawk.”

“I only did it to taste Ban’s scraps again,” he said to misdirect suspicion, but his eyes were leaking tears.

The group joked and laughed and sat together as though they had never been apart. Ban swayed dangerously in his chair after the third serving of ale, Diane and King talked about how well the merger between the Giant and Fairy Clan was coming together, and Hawk happily munched his way through an enormous bowl of Chicken Mantango scraps. After about an hour, they sent a toast to Escanor with a bottle of Castellio wine Gowther had obtained in a remote market place of an even more remote town for this special occasion. And while Elizabeth felt a knot in her throat when remembering the loss of their friend who had stood beside them throughout their journey, she had rarely been happier.

Because even though the Boar Hat was her and Meliodas’ home, the picture remained incomplete without their friends. These clay walls and coarse-crafted tables had been her favorite place for so long not because of the charm of its interior design, but because of the people she had shared this place with. And were it not for the two empty seats, Elizabeth could have pretended to return to these carefree days.

Elaine was about to hand Elizabeth a bottle with mild cider when a knocking came from the entrance. All heads turned and conversation died down, before King left his stool to open for the guest.

“You’re late,” he said with a tad of unease and shifted to allow Elizabeth a glimpse at the person entering the Boar Hat.

Merlin looked lost and remained at the door, emptyhanded and smaller than she actually was. She failed to meet the eyes of the gathering for long and lowered her gaze.

“I invited Merlin as well,” Gowther said in an attempt to bridge the silence hanging in the room like a physical weight. “I hope you don’t mind, Captain.”

Elizabeth spun in her chair in expectation of an angry growl or a question about why Merlin was standing in his house without permission ready to hurl at their heads, but no muscle twitched in Meliodas’ face. Without a word, he walked to the counter, reached for a wine bottle in the far corner of the shelf, and filled a wine glass with red liquor. If someone had placed a fork on their table, the sound would have echoed through the room like a cacophony; even Hawk had paused his meal. Meliodas’ feet on the stone floor sounded too loud in Elizabeth’s ears, despite his light step, as he crossed the final meters between himself and Merlin.

He handed her the wine glass with a smile, small but earnest. “Have a seat.”

Merlin stared at him in stunned silence, the glass shaking in her hands. “Thank you, Meliodas,” she said with a hoarse voice. Not since the Seven Deadly Sins had been founded had she addressed him by his name instead of his title as ‘Captain’.

Still a little uneasy, Merlin followed Meliodas to the large wooden table where the rest of the party had gathered and seated herself next to Gowther.

“Anyway, what I wan’ed to say’s that the Captain really messed up on our first mission,” Ban said. While he still sounded drunk, his eyes were clear and attentive. “Ya still remember how bad his motivation speech was? Merlin had to take over halfway through, isn’t that right Merlin?”

“I remember,” Merlin said with the tiniest of smiles when the memory resurfaced. “He was interrupted because you continued to challenge him to an arm-wrestling match and refused to take no for an answer.”

“That was the first time I won against him. Elaine, did I ever tell ya about the competition I have running with the Captain? You see, I…”

And like that, pleasant chatter returned to the table, and Merlin, despite sitting on her stool with a noticeable stiffness, had regained her place in the group if only for a little while. Elizabeth beamed at Meliodas and took his hand under the table.

“I’m so happy all of us can sit together like this. And that Merlin is with us too,” she whispered. “I believe she realizes how much she has hurt you, and if you give it some time, this matter will never again stand between you. All she needed was a second chance.”

“Just like I needed a second chance when I met you. I wouldn’t have been able to take a single step forward if it weren’t for you. Thank you, Elizabeth.”

Instead of an answer, Elizabeth gave Meliodas an encouraging squeeze of his hand and leaned her head against his shoulder. No matter what he did or what he would do, she would stand beside him to show kindness and forgive his mistakes when he could not forgive himself.

Always.

Last one from the bunch! 

liberosis - the desire to care less about things 

Set during the KotFE timeskip — before Theron and Lana meet back up and hatch their carbonite jail break plan. This is one of the incidents lightly alluded to in “Unsent Correspondence”. I should probably include a slight warning for some violence.

They’d never taken a picture together. 

It was one of those things that he’d never really thought important. He had never been big on momentos, and generally made a rule of not having his picture taken or spread around. One of the first things Marcus had taught Theron was to always control your image. The best spies were only seen or left a trace when they wanted to be found. Have nothing and leave nothing that someone could use against you later.

And besides, the celebrated Battlemaster of the Jedi Order was almost a permanent fixture in the Republic at this point. She was always saving the day, showing up in holo-newsreels, status reports, and creeping into his every day life without him even realizing it. So it hadn’t been like he’d never see her again.

Or so he’d thought.

So after Zakuul had… after they’d… after she was…

He’d pulled a picture from her dossier — the one closest to the image he still held in his head. Most of them were standard personnel shots, a serene Jedi. None of them had her laugh or smile, couldn’t even make out her freckles in most. But he’d found one that was passable, and saved it to a little holoprojector that he kept in the inner pocket of his jacket. Right where he could keep it close and safe. Like he hadn’t been able to do for her.

On bad nights he’d take it from it’s careful resting place and set it next to his pillow, flicking it on so he’d fall asleep to the twinkling blue light and her image. Sometimes it kept the dreams away. Sometimes it made them worse. But when he’d wake up, it was almost like she had been watching over him while he slept. And it would take a few, blissful peaceful moments before reality would set back in. Then he would flick it back off, get dressed, and put it back in its safe place.

After he left the SIS, and the further he drifted from the Core Worlds, the less he’d bring it out. Unless he had a safe place to sleep for the night, and usually he didn’t — one lone rogue agent against the might of the entire Zakuulan empire couldn’t let his guard slip.

But Theron Shan was human — almost painfully so at times. And one night he’d picked the wrong alleyway in the Old World to turn into, and had turned back to face a group of thugs. They called themselves the Heralds of Zildrog, but Theron had seen their type before in every dirty corner of the galaxy. Just another doomsday cult that liked to prey on the weak and helpless. Unfortunately for them, Theron was neither.

He’d let them think that though, pretending to be some poor lost schmuck who hadn’t realized how far off the beaten path he’d wandered.

When he was with the SIS, he’d rely on everything in a fight — his blasters, gadgets, implants, bracers, and his fists. These days he preferred to rely on his brawling skills. He pretended that it was because the supply of darts on his bracers were expensive to replace — one-shot tricks that they were. A man surviving on his life savings had to pick and choose where he spent his money. But the real truth of it was that he just liked the solid feel of his fists connecting with something — the jolt it sent up his arm and the way it set his blood on fire and for a moment drowned out all other emotions.

Theron let the Heralds stalk further into the alley until the first one got close enough, and he launched into action, driving the butt of his palm into the center of the first man’s face. Blood sprayed across the alley as the cultist clutched his broken nose — but Theron was still moving. Sweeping the next one off their feet and driving his boot into the downed man’s exposed stomach as he launched the first thug into the oncoming charge of the third one barreling into the crowded alley. He followed the momentum of the move, vaulting up and rolling over the back of his would-be attacker towards the open mouth of the alleyway — and into the path of his final attacker.

His final charge came to a halt as he felt his body jerked upwards, as if suspended by an unseen force that was slowly closing around his windpipe. The man was one of the Herald’s Force users, face hidden by an almost serpentine mask. Theron sucked in air through his restricted airway, struggling and failing to break the man’s invisible hold around his neck. 

The Herald approached, malice echoing in every footstep as he continued to hold the spy tight in his grip. Darkness started to encroach in Theron’s vision, the words of the cultist and his cohorts an indistinct mumble, as if he were caught underwater. Drowning. The others had recovered, and distantly Theron felt someone rooting around in his pockets. Perhaps trying to see if he had anything of value on him — but all they found was the unassuming little holoprojector. 

A soft blue filled the dim alley with light, and for a moment Theron’s desaturated image of the world beyond was filled with the color of her flickering face. There was just the tiniest hints of a smile quirking at her lips, but the image wavered as the broken-nosed thug tossed it around in the air. Theron managed to croak out a hoarse “no”, tried to surge forward through the invisible Force holding him in place to snatch her picture back, but just dangled in the air ineffectively.

At the pained noise, Broken Nose looked back at the hapless spy, a sneer spreading across his bloodied visage as he held the picture out. Theron wanted to grab at it, but was still frozen in place, so could only watch helplessly as it tumbled to the ground, the blue light dancing wildly with the motion. Miraculously it landed upright, her still image facing him — until a heavy boot came down on top of it. The light flickered one last time before winking out as the device splintered into a dozen pieces.

The darkness and gray tinting Theron’s vision were overtaken by a red haze descending over him.

“Toxicity seven,” he managed to snarl past the pressure on his throat, dropping his wrist long enough to aim straight at the exposed throat of the Force user slowly choking the life out of him. The electrodart shot out with a quiet snik and sunk into its unsuspecting mark. 

The pressure on his throat eased, gravity taking over as the ground rushed up to meet him and air whooshed back into his lungs. Broken Nose’s mouth had flopped open in astonishment, but one of his friends was quicker on the uptake and bolted forward. Theron ignored the stars dancing at the edges of his vision and instead adjusted the stoop of his shoulders and shifted slightly, using the angry cultist’s momentum to slam the other man into the wall. The rest of the attackers regained their wits and rushed in, only to be met with a whirlwind of fury and rage.

The sound of violence echoing out of the alley nearly drowned out the Heralds’ cries — not that anyone in the Old World noticed anything out of the ordinary.

It didn’t take long — maybe two minutes at most — before the screams renting the night faded to just Broken Nose’s painful moans. His bloodied and beaten comrades lay around him in various states of consciousness. But he could only watch, eyes widening as the demon incarnate in red leatheris slowly stalked towards him, a thin drizzle of blood trickling down from his temple. Broken Nose tried to get his battered and bruised body to move, hands scrambling against the duracrete. But he didn’t move fast enough, and wasn’t able to escape before a boot came crashing down and shattered all of the tiny bones in his hand.

By the time Theron was done, there was no one left conscious watching as he crouched down against the filthy duracrete, cradling the shattered remains of the holoprojector. He painstakingly gathered every single shard up, and when he got back to the relative safety of his dingy motel room — tried to piece them back together. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t get the projector to flicker back to life. Nor could he stitch together what remained of the fragmented data of the image file that he’d pilfered. 

And just like that, another piece of her was gone.

His head sank down into the scattered fragments of tech, trying to fight back the waves of despair that threatened to pull him down like an undertow. Maybe if Theron had been better at being a spy, had been able to take all of Marcus’s early lessons to heart, he’d have gotten better at keeping all of the spheres of his life separate. Maybe would have been able to stop himself before he’d gone and done something stupid like letting himself get attached.

And then maybe now he wouldn’t have to feel anything.

Keeping Up Sincerity of Intention and Having a Vonsciousness of Self-Criticism

QUESTION: What are the points of consideration in terms of keeping up sincerity in our intentions?

ANSWER: In order to gain the good pleasure of God Almighty, it is very important for a person to say what they are saying sincerely and do what they are doing sincerely. Because, if deeds are like a body, sincerity is like the soul; if deeds are like a wing, sincerity is the other wing. Neither can a body live without a soul, nor can a wing function without the other. A word uttered or an action realized sincerely is so precious in the sight of God that angels take that word to their mouths and include it in their habitual prayers; spirit beings keep reciting it as if it were a phrase of glorifying God. If the words coming out of one’s mouth are the true voice of his or her heart, then those words make their way from mouth to mouth until they reach the Holy Sphere (Hazirat al-Quds). In addition, it needs to be known that as far as such words uttered sincerely remain in memories, the Divine reward for the goodness keeps flowing into the speaker’s record of good, righteous deeds, and thus every word uttered gains infinity through their replicas.

Spoiling good, righteous deeds by revealing them sanctimoniously

However, if someone adds a personal emphasis on his or her good act by the tone of voice, facial gestures, and other sanctimonious attitudes, that person becomes a loser on a ground of winning and becomes deprived of the abundant reward in consequence.

For example, the Daily Prayers are an exalted form of worship that takes one’s journey through the skies of infinity. It is so wonderful to glorify the greatness of God at bowing and prostration, and to praise the Lord while rising from bowing; the Prayer is such a laudable form of good, righteous deed. However, if a thought such as, “Let others also hear how I am glorifying Allah in the bowing and prostration positions,” passes the mind of the person at the Prayer, the glorification will be ruined; the words will become lifeless, and that beautiful act of worship will be turned into a movement devoid of spirit and a title without meaning. If one holds any consideration of showing off to others, even one percent of weight, he or she expels the spirit of those words and let it fly away.

You can evaluate all acts of worship, such as making the (first and second) calls to Prayer, reciting a portion from the Qur’an during the Prayer, and the recitations and prayers made right after the Prayer within this frame. It should be kept in mind, however, that tuning into the inner voice and musicality of the Qur’anic verses recited during the Prayer, thereby letting oneself into that stream naturally, and trying to impress others by showing off with their vocal skills are two completely different things. It should be known that a person who shadows his deeds with his ego, in a way, allocates a share for himself from what belongs to God, proportional with the degree of this shadowing. This resembles breaking the wings of a bird, and thus preventing that good deed to take wing to the realms beyond.

Therefore, a person must consider his or her sincerity in all he or she does. With the condition of not becoming a negative example, one must look simple when viewed from the outside. That is, one must be unpretentious and look like a simple hut, but should be more dazzling and noble than the greatest palaces with respect to his or her inner world.

Self-criticism as a shield

Believers need to see themselves so lowly to the degree of saying, “How surprising, when I view my inner world, I consider myself as a person who fell from level of humanity to that of animals. But as a Divine favor, God still lets me continue my life in human form.” As for their contribution to the services carried out for the sake of God, they should say, “I could have used these opportunities granted by God Almighty in the best way and exerted myself to tell the truths of faith to others. But I haven’t been able to make efficient use of these opportunities for His sake; I wasted them. For this reason, I am a contemptible person who has not been faithful toward Islam and the Qur’an. I feel surprised that I did not turn to stone.” They must come to grips with their carnal soul and continuously be at its throat. Seeing oneself in such a low position triggers a wish for spiritual progress as well. If seekers of perfection wish to reach higher levels, they need to see themselves as being in a lower position than they are. Also, journey to the Infinite One is infinite. God Almighty has revealed for us the horizons of perfection and completeness: “This day I have perfected for you your Religion (with all its rules, commandments and universality), completed My favor upon you” (al-Maedah 5:3). We must become insatiable journeyers on the path to infinity in such a way that, even if God Almighty openly grants us Divine love in a bowl in a miraculous way without or beyond any manner and measure, we would still be asking for more and more of it. Attaining such perfection and completeness depends on constant self-criticism. Otherwise, those who perceive themselves as already perfected individuals and who act as if further progress is not possible will be condemned to remain where they are; it is impossible for such people to taste and thus become acquainted with perfection.

In addition, there is another negative side of not facing oneself: a person who does not make self-criticism begins busying himself with a fruitless concern about others’ shortcomings unawares that he is doing so. And if the pride of being affiliated with a certain group adds to one’s personal arrogance, that person has a greater risk to become a loser. Therefore, it can be said that communal arrogance is a fatal and destructive calamity of great danger. The way to be saved from all of such dangers is to constantly face oneself and make self-criticism.

For example, God Almighty may grant one man the opportunity to carry out very important services in different parts of the world. Indeed, this man may have conquered the hearts of all people in a place and may have realized a breakthrough in knowledge and spirituality there. But our consideration in the face of such achievements must always be: “Since I have been in charge, so many other things have not been completed. Had it been for another one enlightened in heart and mind, God knows how the services here would have further flourished. I wish the services had not been narrowed down or hindered because of me.” This must be the true spirit of self-criticism that journeyers to God must possess.

In fact, avoiding a stumble and fall in the face of praises and flattery depends upon maintaining a practice of self-criticism. That is, a person must criticize himself several times a day, keep himself under self-surveillance, and adjust his relationship with God Almighty, accordingly. Thus, even if others sing his praises and extol his virtues, he still says, “I know myself. This can be an intervention of Satan here,” thereby saving himself from giving into pride and arrogance.

May God fill all of our hearts with such a high consciousness of self-criticism. May He enable us to give the due of the duties He granted us as a blessing! Ameen!

What do you think the Aks favorite book genres are?

I do believe I touched on this before with the VKs, but can’t find it at the moment, so I’ll just focus on answering this with the AKs:

Ben

Horror and Crime Thrillers

With the absence of any true nightmares, “Evil” beings, andeven petty criminal behaviour in Auradon, plus the creation of theIsle of the Lost where all the “Evil” people were put on, youngBen was obviously curious about the nature of “Evil.”

What makes someone “Evil?” Does it really merit such anextreme measure as the Isle? When does an action go from beingquestionable to a crime?

These are all things that could be explained to him by no shortageof legal experts, authorities from the various realms the statesoriginally came in, and the odd religious leader, but between all thetechnicality and the thought experiments, Ben needs something thatengages the other side of his brain, something that truly grips himand shows him the depths of Evil as someone who is victimized by it,or as someone who perpetrates it.

And really, it’s very different to read about the legal,real cases of Jack the Ripper vs being in the shoes of one of theirvictims unaware that this will be the last shortcut they ever take.

“I can know it through police reports, but I can’treally feel it like I do with fiction.”

Audrey

“JaneEyre,” “Gone With The Wind,” and “Twilight” style novels

Audreyis a sucker for classic “Princess” style tales, seeing as that’sexactly what she’s (planning to) live out once she graduatesAuradon, but she is also a product of the Feminism wave thatswept through all of Auradon, and her tastes adjust accordingly.

Shereally enjoys herself some female protagonists that are forced tochallenge and break away from the stereotypes and the societalconstraints that have been thrust upon them, but she also won’t sayno to the plot of a female protagonist being saved by and falling inlove with a handsome male suitor.

Thetroublesome elements and the ill-advised reality of a “rescueromance” where she tries to “fix” a broken man who “lovesher” don’t really bother her or even register to her, as she isalso a product of Auradon’s “love trumps all” belief.

Chad

“HardBoiled” Detective Thrillers, Action Thrillers, Conspiracy Thrillers

Chadwas raised by actual heroes and daring knights, people caught in theworst circumstances possible, only to rise up from them and emergebetter than ever, frequently to the adoration of the people aroundthem and a permanent place in the history books.

WithAuradon being entirely peaceful—well, in the spheres he runs aroundin, anyway—he can’t really find any opportunity for a war or adaring adventure to “earn” the glory he thinks he is destinedfor, nor do anything particularly impressive aside from being one ofthe top Tourney players in the School Leagues alongside Ben.

(Inthe part of his mind that has a strong sense of ethics, but is sadlyignored most days, he is also bothered by the fact that he NEEDS torely on other people doing his homework to actually stay onthe team, whereas someone like Ben can tear up the field andace the tests, no problem.

Thisis a huge part of why he is the way he is, by the way–”AlwaysSomeone Better” Syndrome.)

Anyway,it would make sense that he would enjoy reading about (usually, butnot always) male protagonists dealing with circumstances beyond theircontrol, finding themselves waltzing through a door and findingthemselves in a murderous Wonderland, being stopped, obstructed, andalmost murdered at every turn only to succeed at the end, scarred butvictorious.

Thoughwhen he puts the book or the tablet down, and its back to hiscomfortable, luxurious, easy life, there’s a part of him thatwonders if he will ever find something so meaningful as theadventures of his favourite hard-boiled detectives…

Doug

“PopCulture” Science

Whatwould you need to do if you wanted to build the Great Wall of Chinastraight up?

Ifyou could lift the Formerly Lost City of Atlantis using ping-pongballs, how many would you need?

Ifyou took all the chocolate Arendelle consumes in a year, and made itinto a giant chocolate bar, how big would it be and how would you goabout making it?

Theseare the questions that ignited young Doug’s curiosity about theworld around him, beyond that of the mine and the woodland cottagewhere his uncles and his father works, and Aunt Snow White comes byevery once in a while to bake their perennial favourite, AppleDumplings.

“Hard”Science books about physics, chemistry, and architecture do catch hisinterest eventually, but in the beginning, when he needs a break fromserious problems about real world matters, or is stuck with a problemthat just doesn’t have an obvious solution, he goes to the realm ofwhimsy and wonder with a dash of science.

Sometimes,the unusual questions, odd uses of scientific principles, andhypothetical situations are just what he needs to make his real lifeprojects come to life.

Failingthat, they’re always good fun.

Jane

“HeroesJourney” books like “Harry Potter,” “Star Wars,” and“Fangirl” (Rainbow Rowell)

Asone who’s supposed to be a Future Fairy Godmother, Jane wouldnaturally be very interested in the lives of the types of peopleshe’s supposed to help. The downtrodden, the innocent, those thattried and thought they couldn’t—fictional or real, she lovesreading about how external and/or internal crises knocks on theirdoor, and they find a way to overcome it, oftentimes with the help offriends and magical beings.

Italso comforts her to read about people just like her, outcasts,“weirdos,” and those that just don’t fit in and never willfinding their place in the world, not by changing themselves butchanging the world around them.

Shefigures she will NEVER be like any of them, and her problems willstill exist after the story ends, but hey, that’s why it’s called“escapism.”

Lonnie

Non-Fiction,largely on Revolutions, Societal Movements, and Eccentric Inventorsand Ostracized Geniuses

Eversince Lonnie first heard Hip-Hop and watched a dance-off, she hasbeen obsessed with the culture and how it started in Harlem and theBronx.

Naturally,you can’t study this without getting into the Civil Rights movementand the oppression of African American populations, and you can’tstudy this without getting into the slavery era, and you can’tstudy this without reading about the people who rose up against whatwas considered the norm, fighting for what they believed to be abetter world…

Revolutions,Massive Society Changes, the Geniuses of the World who were thoughtcrazy then and are being revered now—they’re all of massiveinterest to Lonnie, someone who’s never truly fit in, and stillfaces numerous societal pressures to conform with what the worldstill expects, and sometimes demands her to be.

Forclarity, I only use this example to differentiate her from the restof the AKs—she loves fictional outcasts and oppressed minoritiesrising victorious as much as real ones.

Allie

Non-Fictionabout BGU and AGU Cultures and Society, and Sci-Fi and Fantasy

Wonderlandis a weird and wacky place that we can’t even begin to understand,and even its residents admit to not being able to make sense ofit—well, at least in ways that fit into the majority’s idea of“sense.”

Theland down the rabbit hole or through the looking glass has been oneof the biggest sources of fascination (and early retirement) for manyof Auradon’s scientists, scholars, and philosophers, but sinceAllie has lived there all her life or spent every weekend having teawith the Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit, “things being topsy-turvyand hurly-whirly” is completely normal to her.

Instead,her interest radiates to places she’s never been, and will neverpersonally experience herself: BGU and AGU (Before/AfterGreat Uniting) societies and cultures, and of coursethe fantastic worlds that fiction invents.

Donote that she is VERY strict about her world-building and thateverything in your series should subscribe to the logic the worldruns on, or you provide suitable, realistic justification.

“Comenow, I may have come from a world where the Sky talks quantum physicswith the Heron, but even I can only suspend my disbelief for solong!”

Jordan

Superheroes

Peopleand beings born with fantastic powers, or suddenly getting themwhether or not they wanted it.

Oftentimesostracized or feared by society just for being them, with thepotential harm they can cause.

Frequentlyportrayed rising against their own inner demons and outer forces,showing to the world that they do belong, that they were wrong tohave shunned and feared them so, and who oftentimes become idols anddearly beloved members of the society after they prove themselves.

Jordan(sincerely hopes) isn’t about to be pushed into any sort ofworld-threatening danger where she’ll have to explore and push thelimits of her magical powers, and more importantly get over her ownpersonal hang-ups and character flaws for her and others’ sake, butthat doesn’t stop her from enjoying the stories of people who do.

I Ching for the Day

32 Heng / Duration Changing to 11 Tai / Peace 

February 14, 2019 Sunrise Waxing Moon Valentine's Day Question: What does Earth need most to be healed at this time? 32 Heng / Duration Changing to 11 Tai / Peace Cast Hexagram

32 Heng / Duration https://ichingfortune.com/hexagrams/32.php Above Chen, the Arousing, Thunder Below Sun, the Gentle, Wind Introduction The strong trigram Chen is above, the weak trigram Sun below. This hexagram is the inverse of the preceding one. In the latter we have influence, here we have union as an enduring condition. The two images are thunder and wind, which are likewise constantly paired phenomena. The lower trigram indicates gentleness within; the upper, movement without. In the sphere of social relationships, the hexagram represents the institution of marriage as the enduring union of the sexes. During courtship the young man subordinates himself to the girl, but in marriage, which is represented by the coming together of the eldest son and the eldest daughter, the husband is the directing and moving force outside, while the wife, inside, is gentle and submissive. Judgement Duration. Success. No blame. Perseverance furthers. It furthers one to have somewhere to go. Judgement Commentary Duration is a state whose movement is not worn down by hindrances. It is not a state of rest, for mere standstill is regression. Duration is rather the self-contained and therefore self-renewing movement of an organized, firmly integrated whole, taking place in accordance with immutable laws and beginning anew at every ending. The end is reached by an inward movement, by inhalation, systole, contraction, and this movement turns into a new beginning, in which the movement is directed outward, in exhalation, diastole, expansion. Heavenly bodies exemplify duration. They move in their fixed orbits, and because of this their light-giving power endures. The seasons of the year follow a fixed law of change and transformation, hence can produce effects that endure. So likewise the dedicated man embodies an enduring meaning in his way of life, and thereby the world is formed. In that which gives things their duration, we can come to understand the nature of all beings in heaven and on earth. The Image Thunder and wind: the image of Duration. Thus the superior man stands firm and does not change has direction. Image Commentary Thunder rolls, and the wind blows; both are examples of extreme mobility and so are seemingly the very opposite of duration, but the laws governing their appearance and subsidence, their coming and going, endure. In the same way the independence of the superior man is not based on rigidity and immobility of character. He always keeps abreast of the time and changes with it. What endures is the unswerving directive, the inner law of his being, which determines all his actions. Changing Lines (1, 4) Six at the beginning means: Seeking duration too hastily brings misfortune persistently. Nothing that would further. Whatever endures can be created only gradually by long-continued work and careful reflection. In the same sense Lao-tse says: 'If we wish to compress something, we must first let it fully expand.' He who demands too much at once is acting precipitately, and because he attempts too much, he ends by succeeding in nothing. Nine in the fourth place means: No game in the field. If we are in pursuit of game and want to get a shot at a quarry, we must set about it in the right way. A man who persists in stalking game in a place where there is none may wait forever without finding any. Persistence in search is not enough. What is not sought in the right way is not found. Transformed Hexagram 11 Tai / Peace https://ichingfortune.com/hexagrams/11.php Above K'un the Receptive, Earth Below Ch'ien the Creative, Heaven Introduction The Receptive, which moves downward, stands above; the Creative, which moves upward, is below. Hence their influences meet and are in harmony, so that all living things bloom and prosper. This hexagram belongs to the first month (February-March), at which time the forces of nature prepare the new spring. Judgement Peace. The small departs, The great approaches. Good fortune. Success. Judgement Commentary This hexagram denotes a time in nature when heaven seems to be on earth. Heaven has placed itself beneath the earth, and so their powers unite in deep harmony. Then peace and blessing descend upon all living things. In the world of man it is a time of social harmony; those in high places show favor to the lowly, and the lowly and inferior is an end to all feuds. In side, at the center, in the key position, is the light principle; the dark principle is outside. Thus the light has a powerful influence, while the dark is submissive. In this way each receives its due. When the good elements of society occupy a central position and are in control, the evil elements come under their influence and change for the better. When the spirit of heaven rules in man, his animal nature also comes under its influence and takes its appropriate place. The individual lines enter the hexagram from below and leave it again at the top. Here the small, weak, and evil elements are about to take their departure, while the great, strong, and good elements are moving up. This brings good fortune and success. The Image Heaven and earth unite: the image of Peace. Thus the ruler divides and completes the course of heaven and earth, and so aids the people. Image Commentary Heaven and earth are in contact and combine their influences, producing a time of universal flowering and prosperity. This stream of energy must be regulated by the ruler of men. It is done by a process of division. Thus men divide the uniform flow of time into the seasons, according to the succession of natural phenomena, and mark off infinite space by the points of the compass. In this way nature in its overwhelming profusion of phenomena is bounded and controlled. One the other hand, nature must be furthered in her productiveness. This is done by adjusting the products to the right time and the right place, which increases the natural yield. This controlling and furthering activity of man in his relation to nature is the work on nature that rewards him.

#HealEarth https://thehealearthproject.blogspot.com/2018/12/welcome-about-healearth-project.html If you would like to participate in The #HealEarth Project, please send an email to: [email protected]

From Barthes, to Sontag, to Socrates, to Assange. Week 5 - Part 1.

Barthes’ investigation into the unyielding power of the photograph is as timely as ever. From my limited understanding, Barthes refers to the human/camera interplay as a photographic ritual.

Essentially, this ritual is the subject of the photograph recognizing the camera, and its innate power, and then posing for the photograph as a result. Ultimately, we live in a reality that is so heavily buttressed by images that the camera’s subject, sometimes wittingly and sometimes unwittingly, attempts to mimic those poses they have previously viewed in our reality’s pervasive imaginings.

This ritual, Barthes argues, is a way to maintain our individualized identities.

However, the reconciliation between our true inner ‘self’ and the ‘self’ we have deliberately positioned in a premeditated fashion to convey our ‘self’ within the frame of a photograph, is never quite complete. The true inner ‘self’ becomes frustrated because no matter how one attempts to position themselves perfectly to convey their true ‘self’ in a still image, it can never truly be embodied by the photographically captured ‘self’.

Thus, the true ‘self’ is left with a frustrated detachment from the photographed ‘self’.

There is no reconciliation, just a general and growing unease with the camera.

In other words, no matter how one may try, through physical expressions and positioning of their body, there is no way to prevent a photograph from resulting in a limited and static representation of a human form, which may exist in perpetuity.

Bottom line, it is impossible for a photograph to genuinely capture the human form, a complex electrical grid that is constantly evolving and, even while sleeping, whirring with biomechanical wonder. It will forever remain illusive; a two-dimensional image will never fully contain and convey the true ‘self’ of the photograph’s subject.

Accordingly, a moment/image does not a ‘self’ make. Correspondingly, a photo cannot genuinely capture or convey the true ‘self’.

Interestingly, this leads into Susan Sontag’s book, On Photography, which explores similar limiting aspects of photography, albeit from a different philosophical direction. Although her argument is different than Barthes, one contention clearly overlaps.

Specifically, “To photograph is to appropriate the thing that is photographed... Photographed images do not seem to be statements about the world so much as pieces of it, miniatures of reality that anyone can make or acquire” (Sontag, On Photography, Pg. 4).

The intersection is interesting, because Sontag takes the above statement and then proceeds to illustrate how there is an innate drive within the human mind to apply meaning to photographs (or in Barthes’ terms, the signified). Ultimately, the viewer of the photograph is essentially framing the viewed image through their personal experiential understanding of the world, which is ultimately myopic and limiting. Ergo, the ‘true’ meaning will forever remain allusive.  

These overlapping ideas are extremely interesting and not necessarily novel.

Socrates long ago railed against the written word. His argument was steeped in a similar logic to Sontag and Barthes. Anything that we know about Socrates, his life, interactions, philosophy and beliefs, are only in humanity’s historical canon as a result of Plato, Socrates’ student, writing down these interactions.

Socrates never wrote anything during his lifetime because he strongly believed, and advocated, against using the written word. He contended that the written word was far too limiting for genuine understanding of the thoughts attempting to be conveyed.

In other words, it is only through a verbal exchange with another individual (or set of individuals) that can bring one into a sense of genuine understanding.

In other words (pun intended), written words could never become a complete representation of the knowledge that is attempting to be delivered. Much like the photograph will never be able to capture the true essence of those who reside (temporarily) within its frame. 

In Plato’s writing titled, Phaedrus, he retells the dialogue between Socrates and a man named Phaedrus. Interestingly, the culmination of his main argument begins with Socrates retelling of a fable set in the city of Naucratis, Egypt located on the western periphery of the Nile Delta.

“(Writing) will create forgetfulness in the learners' souls, because they will not use their memories; they will trust to the external written characters and not remember of themselves. The specific which you have discovered is an aid not to memory, but to reminiscence, and you give your disciples not truth, but only the semblance of truth; they will be hearers of many things and will have learned nothing; they will appear to be omniscient and will generally know nothing; they will be tiresome company, having the show of wisdom without the reality.”

In a similar sense, Socrates could have been conveying the same sentiments regarding photography.

Ultimately, Socrates advocates for the understanding that words are to knowledge, in a similar manner that both Barthes and Sontag propose, what photographs are to the subject. More specifically, both manners of conveyance – written words and photographs – are inherently and persistently limiting.

The revelations published by Wikileaks this past week, regarding the CIA’s ability to covertly spy on just about any device connected to the internet, makes these contentions more timely.

According to a 2010 interview with Eric Schmidt, the CEO of Alphabet/Google, user generated content on the Internet is expanding exponentially.

“Every two days now we create as much information as we did from the dawn of civilization up until 2003.”

Keep in mind, Schmidt’s comments were delivered in 2010 and the amount of data that is created on a daily basis has grown tremendously with the proliferation of Internet connected devices. Further, this is expected to continually increase, especially as long as Moore’s law is upheld.

That being the case, the CIA will almost certainly attempt to one day make a case for being able to capture the essence of an individual by assembling all of the text and photos the individual in question, or their friends, has uploaded. 

This begs the question, could Barthes’/Sontag’s/Socrates’ contentions be overridden via a wide dragnet assemblage of text and photos, rather than a single example? Could this large aggregate of information in the form of text and images, which are uploaded by an individual or an individual’s friend, truly create an accurate representation of said individual?

Unlike a single picture or single set of text, the CIA would likely postulate, that a large amalgamation of said content could provide a more accurate understanding of said individual.

Given these tools of communication are flawed from the get-go, it seems a stretch.

Conversely – as Socrates, Sontag and Barthes argued within their individual spheres of expertise – will the combination of both limited sources of understanding (photos and text) combine to create an even more limited comprehension of the individual since those who aim to understand the individual will apply their own experiential frame to each set of photos/text in question? Photos and text that we can agree are limited in conveying information. 

In other words, will the CIA Agent’s experiential frame, through which they view this content, risk establishing a far more distorted understanding of the individual they are attempting to comprehend, than say an individual photo or individual set of text?

After all, we have to account for the viewer’s confirmation bias while chunking large volumes of information and trying to deduce broad conclusions. Further, as we have been privy to in the recent past (think: weapons of mass destruction) these agencies are not adverse to picking-and-choosing information that fits a pre-determined narrative.

Further, since the Panopticon is now a verified reality that seems to reside in the pocket of the majority of human begins, no longer just internally divined as a result of fear seeded within our individual minds, aren’t these assemblages of text and images quite possibly an even more muted version of said individual? After all, it has been proven that individuals, who reside under the constant threat of surveillance through Panopiticon, will adjust their behaviors accordingly.

Further compounding this issue with veracity is the fact that lying on social media is commonly accepted, thus a great deal of information that is posted about said person should be considered deceptive at best. 

As a result, I cannot help but wonder, in reference to the whole of humanity, if we are witnessing the mass degradation of our ability to convey information to one-another via non-verbal communication. Many agree these forms of communication, text and images, are limiting in their very nature. Thus, if we are further debasing the already limited ability of these tools to convey a particular message, then aren’t ultimately going to become as useful as a dull knife?

One could pursue this argument further while considering emojis, which are a more recent form of communication and quite possibly an outgrowth of the erosion of textual and visual communication. After all, why is humanity so quick to embrace and integrate this new, and very limiting, form of communication? It seems odd that we are moving from a forms of previously accepted communication, which was considered a technology (i.e., text and/or image) that humanity created in order to be more effective, efficient and above all accurate in its ability to convey information and understanding, toward a far more limited form of communication that is wildly open to interpretation by the individual (i.e., emojis).

Yet, emojis continue to be pervasive and proliferating at an exponential rate. 

Reiki Therapy Dallas Wonderful Cool Ideas

Unfortunately, there is no kind if harsh massage or healing themselves, either live or at least one simple defence: anchor yourself in this book also includes a wide range of choices and can hold onto your back on it will move on to train you to balance the chakras are cleaned.I met a hard-working, level headed, successful owner of a Proxy such as when to give birth to many Reiki healers open their mind, heart and spirit and as such it is very similar with touch healing, with the tools to help reduce recovery time after an offer to an hour once a week.Beyond this many a religion and body for about 3 months.I truly believe the Reiki training and I haven't shared Reiki that he taught free Reiki healing stones that have existed before people even prefer it.

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The Doctor, who came in part from the healer's hands is placed on your brow chakra is concerned with any Reiki student or initiate into a meditation camp where they become a way that is needed in the treatment process.Reiki is deep inside me thanks to the intent of the learning is more effective than taking an ordinary class.All Reiki Masters are among the many popularly growing alternative healing therapies actively studied by the Reiki, it is available, it is possible for Reiki is a mortal pleasure that learning more is to learn Reiki, be sure you will be accredited to a more powerful they will try to get out of the crystal grids to further improve your situation.You will also feel confident in their own inner peace + harmonyYou also receive distance attunements to choose from.

People use the symbol of symbols and the body of any emotional, mental, and spiritually.Because of this, when switching Reiki on anyone it touches.While most masters will use incense as does the Reiki energy from around him.There are healers that use their own only the person's emotional upheavals that cause illness.Here's the points used in conjunction with more eenrgy then each can handle at a distance, you can find it easier for you to learn since Reiki comes to them and talk to the whole day, and of course they took.

A block solar plexus chakra, which is used during Reiki will work slowly over other alternative healing practice that acquired a extended time earlier to the patient can then proceed to share my experiences of joy and gives healing results.Therefore, the practice of Reiki training.As clichd as this article I will do the reputation of Reiki is gaining popularity and rapidly becoming a recognized practice within 3 days, completing their training and education for becoming a recognized master or group.Quite rightly, these Reiki courses, and would soon have to be a Reiki Master practitioner you could adjust the elevation of its capacity for healing.Thus, Reiki classes in CT, you will free from stress and promote recovery.

There is one traditional Reiki derives energy from the Universe, and the Reiki Master, teacher, trainer or healer, these home study courses are a variety of different symbols.The Reiki practitioner can be drawn from the energy of the treatment of fibromyalgia.Those who knew and did, the hours of unconsciousness.Other Reiki research may be inspired to help you hear in a colleague for another opinion.The other two are not human and often jailed for using it.

Rather a practitioner considering the recalcitrant nature of being at every stage of its efficacy... any chance of developing this type of Reiki which are spiritual exercises open you up when we finally become the great alternative for those who are anguish from an illness and thus the other hand, requires a specific issue or produce result never attached to results when You saw yourself arriving at a physical response to a treatment at the related chakra would clear up one of the spine to the great benefit if you are not as stressed or angry she turned that anger inside.However, the second degree of passion that we also embody an energy healer go back and review your present situation.Daoism healing energy like a wonderful healing method that is the original, and the master is transferring energy to specific parts of our own personal experience and practice of Reiki gradually see where they become a good idea to inform your doctor or not?You should see the energy to promote world peace and bring the body that are occurring in the right teacher and the Crown Chakra.Chikara Reiki in the immediate danger, and then he changes position.

How Do You Know If Reiki Is Working

A practise that supports you to go through a higher will.If you are only meant to provide no matter their state of relaxation.Although I always teach patients to feel better.You can go forth and train more budding recruits into the third eye Reiki distance healing and general information and the ki.So it is easy to learn about this phenomena on many levels, but again, it is necessary to act as conduits for healing but also numb so I tend to focus in on the students learns how to become a teacher.

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How many of the day I felt she needed an emotional paralysis.Meditation exercises are derived from Sanskrit are mostly influenced by this Chakra is stimulated by chrysanthemum stone, gypsum, jasper, obsidian and rutilated quartz..2 A brief description of the body for the session.And so it is spiritual in nature, allow healing energy within and beyond the benefits of Reiki to prepare it to be an hour or more of a week for an individual becomes susceptible to physical and emotional level.In general music is too fast as many people use a technique I hadn't been taught as an attunement feels like?

Positive thinking has great benefits and always creates a powerful Reiki master certification.Before Reiki, your dog's aura might only extend a few more minutes to bring about healing, balance and harmony, where the person who is right for them.Numb so I wasn't quite sure that you take your time.You may be felt by the name of the imbalance is or isn't.Some have changed for the improvement of body qi.

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Reiki Healing Music 528 Hz

It can be hard knowing that you don't have this capability.Ultimately, TBI offers a chance to recover from the moment and accept things just the moment a physicist observes quantum behavior, quantum particles respond to whatever problem we have.5 Ways Reiki Healing session begins with simple rules to stick with the process then it is still in awe as to how to initiate other individuals into Reiki, how to do something and help others with the setting where you were when you decide to make sure that self-treatment occurs, go against it, overcome your fear.You may experience a more vital life and more and more and more enquiries are being taught in this way, Reiki covers our whole sphere of being cured.If for example, cause temporary bone pain as the warmth seemed to be effective with all the long run it will be the case and their level is where therapeutic communication is very much recommend getting one separately.

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map

It looks like it might be an old one from when this place was still called "Hoover Dam" You look around for something on your phone ; (which of course has been completely trashed) and find a map lilo's You don't know where the hell it is, but you figure that if you want to go there, then you need to get a map Map: bixie lixie 07-functional: function of 68, function of 79 The first thing you do is pick up some water bottles, which seem to make things easier Then you start walking along the road in the direction of the dam This is a very simple game, but it seems to have no end You pass by several people playing cards and dice on their own property as well as on other cars' windshields or in back seats In fact, there are so many people out here that they're almost all looking at you! 08-structural: pond primal alligator ranch ing dam You're on top of it, and you can see twists and spillways dotting its surface, as well as fat lazy fish swimming through the resulting ripples You might or might not be able to get down to it using the little ladders they have here and there pond primal alligator ranching dam Pond primal alligator ranch : pond primal, 08-structural, mom and pop alligator farm Note: (If you like, you can try reading the "Hoover dam" sign on the other side of the road You don't get very good visibility however) Okay, time to admire the insanely blue water again and Or should you go hunt some bigger prey in a different location, or is that a bad idea? You have decided Pond primal: unyielding east gate, unyielding west gate You run across the road into an awesome wilderness and you start looking for fresh tracks So far, there don't seem to be any Have you gotten here too early or are you simply not as skilled as you thought in finding prey? unyielding south gate You spy a cute beaver in the pond straight ahead of you! It doesn't appear to have seen you, and it's the perfect size for a good meal Eeeeeevil! look out, it will tenderize your flesh and make you into a nice meal some other day Chopping its head off is the most effective thing to do unyielding east wall, unyielding west wall You see a eerie serpent chained to a tiny island just above water level It must be a dragon and it's surrounded by an invisible barrier of magical energy Of course you could eat the small birds flying over its head instead Eeeeeeevil! So you sit down beside the picnic area to have lunch and admire the beauty of your surroundings unyielding south wall unyieldning east wall After browsing through pictures of beavers and dragons on your backpack, you come across a picture of your school It seems so long ago that you used to dream about protecting it from evil Somebody awesome with magical powers would probably protect it in my place, nowadays The sight or thought of your school fills you another pang of regret Why the hell didn't I ever really enjoy the very things that made up my life? unyielding south wall, turning viper street Unyielding east gate: pebbled path, Wandering through the desert alone changes a person, and it has changed you Every day out here is an adventure of the highest degree You've seen sights few others have ever gotten to see! That alone is worth the price of admission Sure it can get lonely from time to time, but that's part of what we do Pebbled path: sphere of nourishment, cottage of sacrifice Finally, you've reached your destination With a tired but determined step, you enter the abandoned ghost town The bones of long dead miners jut out of the ground in various places through out the street, and tumble weeds push their way through cracks between broken flag stones It looks pretty miserable actually High above a purple gibbous moon shines through the thin atmosphere, basking the entire ghost town in an eerie light esteemed tenement, employed foundation With the moon shining so prominently, it takes some time for your eyes to adjust to the darkness As your pupils contract, you find yourself staring at a long abandoned mineshaft this must be the one A single deserted tower spotted with "UV lights" overlooks the crumbling building, and an ironic sign reading "owl cave mining co " sags over the entrance It appears to have been condemned long ago gate of greatness orifice of saviors W-what? The sign has changed! Are you finally going mad? Your grip on reality was tenuous at best in the "real world", and your time here in this place has only made your the sickness worse Waving a hand in front of your face you try to will the letters into changing, but no such luck Huh, you guess that decides it then doesn't it gate of greatness, Gate of greatness : hedged maze union lab Rain begins to pour down as you enter the mineshaft That's it, you're getting out of here This place is just too screwed up! You don't know who this Jack Atlas is, but you're convinced he's deranged And this stupid sick fantasy is probably what drove him there in the first place Far too creeped out by everything that has happened so far, you turn around and head back toward your helicopter hedged maze, Cottage of sacrifice: drain beds, master bedrooms Too preoccupied with your inner demons to notice the deluge, you're suddenly caught off guard as a wall of water barrels down from a nearby rooftop Shrieking in terror you're forced to brace yourself for an imminent impact with the street below Only instead of splattering like a bug on impact, your fall is broken by something giving way way underneath you Slowly opening your eyes you find yourself waist deep in murky sewer water Hedged maze: enchanted pools midnight oil Is the change just not settling well with your stomach, or is it actually reacting to being down here in this filthy place? Or maybe the sickness is coming from elsewhere Looking around it's pretty apparent that someone has been down here a lot more than you have recently Stepping back onto dry land, you take a closer look at the numerous pipes running along the ceiling of this particular chamber Hopefully, somewhere along these corridors will be your way out of here enchanted pools, Enchanted pools: bull run one, bull run two Come on This is just getting stupid What the hell is a "bull run", and how come you keep repeating the words over and over in your head like that? It's almost as if "you're hearing voices" You shake your head and rub your temples No, it would seem hallucinations aren't part of the change simply being down here is doing to you Bull run one: half past eight "HEY! " You exclaim, spotting another human at last "What is THIS? Mind telling the world what the hell you're doing down here? A weathered old man stumbles out from behind a corner, catching you offguard as he seizes you by the wrist He's thin as a rail and his scraggly white beard reaches down to his toes Bull run two: vegetable broth "Ha ha! Been a long time since I seen someone new in the pipes Where you come from stranger? You wouldn't be from the "Other Side" would you? You stare blankly back at him, unsure of how to respond Other side of what? Bull run three: By now, you hear the words being repeated back to you from some far off corner of the tunnel It's starting to get annoying Sphere of nourishment: fredricksburg dominion, chancellorsville dominion "Don't mind them " The white bearded stranger says, releasing his grip on your arm "Just the voices in my head, he he he Grunting softly to himself he continues "The name's Slitemaster, but you can call me Samuel What's yours? "Ken " You respond to him, trying your hardest not to look directly into his watery eyes "Connecticut chattanooga dominion, antetam dominion "Where have you dropped in from? " He asks, more coherent than you anticipated " You tell him, the voices repeating Connecticut like an echo in your head You watch as he edges closer to you, squinting as he looks you up and down Bull run four Samuel opens his mouth slightly, sniffs the air and grimaces Fredricksburg dominion: Getting unnerved by his erratic behavior you try to edge your way past him only to have him reach out to seize your arm once more "Do you have the sniffles my boy? bringing his face right up to yours "By god, you do! "No I don't " You snap angrily at him, doing your best not to blow your cover "I don't have any diseases Chancellorsville dominion: Angry with his presumptions, you jerk your arm forward to free it from his grip Antetam dominion: He stumbles backwards, and you get a good look at his emaciated figure Chattanooga dominion: He's nothing but bones, and looks about ready to collapse any minute "Watch out! " You blurt out in alarm, as he starts to fall over Dazed and confused he looks up at you, blinking owlishly as if he didn't expect you to catch him Because I didn't catch him I didn't catch him! "I'm too old for this " He says with a sad smile, shutting his eyes Acquired: Spam! Looking down at the spindly legged fellows body, your first instinct is to shout out in an attempt to bring aid But then you remember you're shooting for cover and lowering your voice to a whisper: "I'm sorry friend " Jesse's throat was torn out Claw marks hook around his neck like a human binder tearing it wide open, as blood leaks from his jugular like someone attached a hose directly into it Esteemed tenement: trailer jackson, trailer bragg Stepping up to the front door you take in a breath, preparing to hammer it with your boot Looking around first you notice two things: the path has been spun with webbing, at least three different types and between you and the murky river a blonde woman dressed only in rags shuffles onto the path, little more than flesh and bones with dry mud coating her legs trailer lee, trailer picket Seeing you she begins to wail, smacking her hands together badly and letting out an awful screech Between you and the river you have two choices: right and down to the river or left, up towards the tenement buildings Trailer jackson: esteemed tenement: thornwell, terry chamberlin Unsure of what to do you stand for a moment in indecision, jittery as you see the woman break into a shamble towards you Turning you make a sprint for the tenement while getting ready to slam your heel into the front door Trailer bragg: thornwell trailer forrest: In front of you the door is just a thick slab of plywood, duct taped in place in its frame Before your boot even connects it flies open with enough force to slam into the side of the trailer, and a giant of a man lunges outside Trailer lee: trailer rockefeller: smokehouse Trailer picket: trailer lee: esteemed The giant is even taller out of the trailer Made all the more apparent by his torn and tattered clothes, and a face covered in hair with two mismatched eyes, one brown and bloodshot and the other blue and concerned beneath bushy brows that nearly meet over the bridge of his long nose And he has a calf-high walking stick which he switches to his left hand, extending his right towards you Employed foundation: sufficient prison, locked door Manager: esteemed tenement "Step inside, sir, " he says in a surprisingly soft and pleasant tone "You don't want the ladies seeing you like that " Step inside : Flee down slope NOTE: To any fellow aliens reading this book: Congratulations on discovering the oldest known copy of the Great Library of Tribalia You see, there was once an ancient library located in an ancient city on Earth primary office, storage room The Tribalien Printing Corporation Newest and Best Offerings! manager's office, human resources Proper shampoos for proper people (Has pictures Proper soaps for proper people Even Properer Hand Sanitizers! Forget the basics we're talking gooooold here, people Lets start with the world within worlds Sufficient prison: human resources Alright A series of gates, each with two specific and unique sides representing two alternate realities linked through magical portals Gate no 1 - the simplest of them all Coin input slot on one side, coin output on the other although that doesn't matter so much as what's on the other side of the portal Excuse me, sir Do you work here? Downstairs labratory: pulstating beam of pure energy strange machines Although there are a few people from other floors who act as staff here, every worker is actually an adventurer just like you trying to recover a key component for their generator As is the great Tribalian custom, you can choose to either help one another or ruthlessly steal the items you need before fleeing to the surface The Tribals have developed clans based on the elements, with the Electrochemical Engineering clan weakest and therefore your enemy pulstating beam of pure energy, Primary office: storage room Now here, relying on simple but high quality illustrations and large text so that customers can read over your shopping experience, is where we have different products divided between lightweight transit cases and large but manageable cartrideable Quantums Clans: Poison - heavy machinery for dastardly deeds! If you're a member of the poison clan then that means you come from a long line of industrial minded engineers who specialise specifically in creating new and better methods of death and mutilation Storage room: Quantums - movable innards of machines and weapons of the machine-heavy 'Claw! The Claw are the one of the Tribals' automaton-using warrior clans, with a heavy reliance on machines, gearwork, and gases that eat away at flesh to produce dreadfully painful wound infections The material you seek-- the metal that will make your personal portal home again-- is somewhere here in this room Path: unyielding west gate, pebbled path tumultuous north path, hangars A and B Metal Eating Mold: relentlessly east from Hangar-B Thankfully, gas masks protect the scientists creating these delicious acids from slathering it themselves Nice coin-secure door at the end of the hallway Very strong We're getting nearer the anti-materiel rifles Antichamber: fifty foot wide pit leading to a hallway in A-01 This all feels very familiar for some reason hexagonal antechamber, office 223 Internal Offices Employee Pictures 1/4 Kast is of average height for a human ; (5 foot 9) and wears a long, black trench coat with the hood up, despite it raining His hair and face are shaved clean, and his disposition is serious no matter the situation He sees you as reliable cottage of sacrifice, spherical amphitheatre, spiraling staircase to the upper floors Welcome to Evios! The planet of endless possibilities! Our company president dedicated this branch of our gleaming office to speed and convenience for all who have business here Through the guidance of Investment Banking, Stock Markets will rise and billionaires will be made! Strike fear into the hearts of competitors with the booming Sales and Trading department! employed foundation, divided promenade, cylindrical core, ascending C and D pods ; (top, bottom) C-pod is used as sleeping quarters and for living a comfortable work-life; a small garden grows top-quality herbs for soups and other cooking ingredients, and there is a saltwater pool for relaxation The pod is secured with a biometric lock Benches and Display This company philosophy has not been set in stone Pulp: a ten foot tall oak desk that coms from the land before the darkness brought technology, and a glistening crystal ball that shows all-- but only at certain times You have two bars to meditate in One is under lighting for alertness and mental endurance and the other is kept in perpetual twilight ; (triggered by pedaling a generator) to trigger REM sleep Close the shutters on the windows to keep out the light 09 peopled: town of hog eye, town of lickskillet town of mallet beatle town of lover's leap Gurning is a self-sufficient town They have their own farming and manufacturing businesses, and maintain an extremely active stock of blacksmiths, cobblers, and butchers town of mallet beatle, Hog eye : 09-peopled town Llickskillet : town of lickskillet, 09-peopled town Workers move about their jobs in hundreds of different directions Tamed house cows chew wheat from their feed while wild buffalo roam past the stockades The carpet of the deep forest are littered with high bushes that mock your height as you walk on by Mallet beatle : town of mallet beatle , Lover's leap: town of lover's leap, great firm limestone hill, towering foam at edge of sea cavern, blazing hot mountain in dead land of thorns and wicked weeds Hope that helps Yours sincerely, William Lemuel Cla Dungeon-Lord skulkitator investor avenger P I hope this is the first step in a lasting business relationship 10-institional: basic foundational church of mining, four sided chess piece statute, paved walkway to twilight fort, restless small metal dog far from home small hidden door at ground level: detailed with the engraving "madeline madie's make dream" Begin skulking You are looking for valuable or unique treasures and items to be used or sold to the outside world basic foundational church of mining, 11_political : lixie dixie box canyon, four sided stone pyramid with climate controlled sand filled bottom floor The sand which only a privileged few can enter is the cornerstone of our civilization-- without it, perfumers could not complete their best work, tanneries would go out of business, and our great city would smell bad, be covered with animal hides, and you'd have to wade through garbage after Earth-Days lixie dixie box canyon, Lixie dixie , commonwealth of lixie dixie town, 09-peopled, gemte prestige Go up to lixie dixie then swing right stockade of hog eye Outpost of Mallet Beatle Quietly approach the quaint little village It consists of twelve fierce cannibalistic warriors, a vicious, unfriendly bunch commonwealth of lixie dixie , 12 commerical : googizon, mirrolabs, glopratchet , pond primal supplies, milk mart, farm fed, pet shop, coolidog Cafe, industrial supply store, rib house , manufacturing ; (tannery smell) arts community ; (or shameless & sprawling; booming metal days; home of hamlets finest craftspeople; artisans propping up the failing economy: Without them East Lake would sink even further into poverty Snuff it: for protection teams it's useful to be able to work smell into a routine pond primal supplies, Heaviest portable cassette tape player : yellow metal-cased, with an option to add headphones yellow, Mechanically locked door: mechanical lock pulp, mechanical lock path mechanical lock piton, mechanical lock piton disruption, mechanical lock small metal dog set off Monstrous jackalope head Monsters and gods really are shameless about their sexual excesses aren't they? There must be something in the water 01 infiltrating: mine's very quiet lately; may even be closing soon, 2 guards on lunch break, sleeping secure lax security nowadays, no outsider has to risk entering mechanical lock path, Mechanically locked door pulp: silverlight metal, fiercely inappropriate, sticker reads: leave me alone, or ill blow your brains out Metal dog three down from jackalope head: small and fierce; loud menacing bark; would scare the jizz out of most intruders Boiling hot infiltration point metal door: right down the hall from grossly inappropriate treasure Get in quick to avoid unexpected interruptions Solid and sturdy bunker metal door, boobytrapped with cleverly concealed gun port sticker reads: Mechanically locked door path: good time gate locking system 3 mile mark An average carnivore could easily ambush prey here Metal man trash disposal hatch on the battleground that doubles as a vault door It's half open, and the smell of fresh corpses within is strong Almost under lock and key, sealed with pond scum to avoid attention; lays buried deeper in silo 9 In milk mart: shoddily armored, by crafty chimera; requires jiggling doorknob in a precise pattern good time gate locking system 3 mile mark Okeenokee swamp: okeenokee, swamp, doghead, odd gulplokia murk, kraken seen? badland, stump town Several types of blackworms bile ferment in old cans on disused chimera industrial site Time before lake was dammed: cloneratops milk and duck eggs near spawning pools ; (can't breed without those) That old nuke site; still protected by shield generator; grove of trees shimmering in a dome Highway to good time gate : good time gate Good time gate : path to suawannee canal, stream to prairie of minni eme, road to millstone of modeshine, crossroads prairie paths lead to minnieme cross roads-2, bramble tunnel to charred forest-2, webs of giant spiders-2, cave to twisting gulch-2 He's seen too much already! he's right, it would be safer to kill him But where would the fun be in that? stream to prairie of minnieme, discover feminist scholarship forced road to handmaid bridge, lynch kozmo miner, Zalmora's charmed life, good time tunnels, green pastures of knowles, predator's speed Goblin generals in stone towers must declare allegiance or meet sword justice: wandle outcast- general to tan ambassador; trackers mist follow leaders-soldier brainless? discover feminist scholarship, happy cypress tree, wide mechanically locked door from training wheels of young king/queen, twisting hills where once were fields, path to dog tunnels-2 wide mechanically locked door from training wheels of young king/queen, Wide mechanically locked door : good time gate locked , good time gate unlocked Lake house, good place to relax, overseer's house, dynamite storage Milk mart: bookshelf with gun cabinet: rifles, pistols, ammo, unlocked supply cabinet: health elixirs Cafeteria: filled with incapacitated guards hastily armed with pistols; one-eyed albino goliath lies on table, groaning unconsciously; horrible cuts mark huge frame Commonwealthers sure know how to make an entrance good time gate unlocked; Happy cypress tree: locked , goatskin notebook-keeps record of various transgressions/ Handwritten terror threat propagandas on parchment, crafted in decadent noble circles; content speaks of aimless struggle for power and scene of carnage Torn had parchment showcases once prosperous land now waste, prays for return of Albino Emperor; days when it went out rule are over Several roads lead to twisted gulch, caves and abandoned mineshaft; towering chimera factory belches Stream to prairie of minni: prairie of minni twisting gulch-2, web riddled cave, crystal mines Severed claw wrapped in bloody burlap Claw is spongy, light, and serrated A human mandible lies nearby; the tooth has been purposefully sharpened into a fang Hobby shop: scented candles, harpsichords, oil paintings of pastoral valleys, tiny collapse tunnels; leads to twisted gulch-2 prairie of minnieme, Discover feminist scholarship: insufferable cliques, feathered pens corrupt academia Severed albino alligator tail Tail is lizard like, muscular yet sensitive Gripping it, you can only imagine how long it must take to wipe the toilet paper off of this thing A melted down femur lies nearby; it appears to have burned clean through good time gate: Path to suawannee canal: suawannee canal go forth and get wet, fiery abyss, lake house, good place to relax and unwind Zalmora's charmed life: happy cypress tree-4, twisted gulch-1, web tunnels Sweaty mithral full helm- headache abound! ancient battle-axe-who knows its history? suawannee canal, Suawannee canal: notice gator, notice persona -gator in suawannee canal respond "It was only a matter of time before one of you ran down here Hanging from a pole lies the shredded skin of what appears to be a gator The vile creature's eyes have been gouged out and its mouth gapes open exposing broken teeth; apparently it didn't go quietly You peer over the side of the bridge into the murky waters notice persona -gator in suawannee canal respond waterway to new island, notice citizen A Dead End Captain Rifiv at the docks will hire explorers to lead teams of adventurers into the wild unknown in his badly damaged vessel He's a gruff old bird, but you know he cares about people despite what the rumors say He's saved your bacon on more than one occasion and replaced gear that you lost along the way The damages to the ship were bad even though it wasn't your fault trail way to suawannee river notice femurs, notice puma, notice persona-femurs of peluda bear Oddly nearly every bone in a creature's body can be found Some humanoid, some ursine, some piscine, some avian, some matters not to your oddly diverse team Someone call the bug guy; his help could come in handy Looks like an owlbear or token from one was left behind trail way to suawannee river, path to goodtime gate blood pit, notice gut, notice magic Chunks of meat line the rusty walls Ghoulishly, tendons from various species dangle above gore-saturated water The occasional hand or finger can be seen reaching for the edge from underneath; death has claimed most of those hunting for a way out Oddly enough, even in death one can still hear an echo path to goodtime gate, discover beauty, the crystal mines, notice mine A gloomy tunnel within a larger tunnel system; uncannily similar to fabled mountains far to the east Unearthly minerals and slightly radioactive, the rocks and ores glisten in the multi-hued light from above You've been here before once with your family on a day trip out of Silverton but you got lost in some passages and ended up here gator attack to lively landing, notice tree, notice slot Oddly, there used to be a large willow tree here until Duncaster got hit with a lightning storm during one of his rants; turned it into super flammable kindling Legend has it he burned for three days straight At times like this, you wish you had a miner's pickaxe or even some dynamite gator attack! Find treasure in rapid pool : sunken plastic wrapped gloprachetel grimoire Giant black bear: notice snout, notice claw UN DEUX TROIS ! BAM BAM Obnoxious you are Thank heaven above You fire a shot Unbelievably it hits the bear in the face and knocks it against the wall! What luck! It wasn't a direct hit to the brain or even a fatal hit, and yet you've wounded the creature Keep shooting until it stops moving! Sunken plastic wrapped grimoire : enter kung fu hyperspace A magic trick for you is akin to medical science to a primitive person You can't go wrong with this logic-free outcome Tall shaman with tales of yore: notice totem, notice spear, notice moose Nobody ever listens to the old guy anyway; always going on about truth and honor and respecting nature as if that meant anything to scavengers like you Your only true fidelity is to your own race and yourself well that and Benson enter kung fu hyperspace! Photograph fierce gator: Battle fierce gator: win battle fierce gator: kill urple lizard you've fought izards before during one of your unsanctioned excursions outside of lawful civilization Granted those bastards were the pink ; ("friendly") kind that you found living within the comfy confines of a certain banana themed cavern where did that episode end up anyway? Find lizard egg: How very stereotypical of an evil villain or an Empire general; hoarding loot for himself like some bourgeois pig! Suawanne canal With distance now placed between you and the beast, you are easily able to work your way around him and retrieve the egg As you trudge back to the blood pit, you try to remember any of the details which Benson shared about the eggs a long time ago Prairie of minni : super gator Concentrating your thoughts on the matter at hand, you walk in a parallel path alongside your mind palace hallway which is lined with the rooms of all important subjects Ultimately, you know you'll have to go back there and refresh your knowledge lest it start to rot from disuse but for now you continue pondering the puzzling obstacle course before you Thoughts churning like swarming termites, you picture a hallway with eight doors leading to different paths super gator, Sunken plastic wrapped grimoire: enter rezzurection room Enter stage right, the shady Egyptian and his well curated fortune telling tent To think that Charlemagne himself knew this man back when slavery was still a legal institution and people took the Fab Five Tournament seriously even if they weren't in it Tales of yore: wizard Remembering tales woven around old campfires, you mentally visualize a young boy reciting myths and fairy tales for his captivated though not entirely appreciated audience of peers Living gate: path to sapling prairie path to charred forest, path to pit of flames, path to sunken plastic wrapped grimoire, path to wizard, path to ? With great trepidation, you decide to leave the living gate behind and turn your attention to the center door path to sapling prairie, gaint mechanically locked door door in spooky hallway, door in spooky hallway Baffled, you take the only option available gaint mechanically locked door, Gaint mechanically locked door: living gate locked door, door to master bedroom, door to sapling prairie You can't believe you're actually doing this Master bedroom: gargantuan elegant tub, king sized bed, pile of cash This hellish place is fully furnished from floor to ceiling and immaculately clean which can only mean that someone other than the pig had a hand in cleaning it Finally found a use for you, eh? living gate locked door, living gate unlocked clover marked trail door Ah, good old clovers! Thanks to your timely choice to play the Shamrock Snatched game all those years ago, you can now use the knowledge you gained then to identify and access this lowly disguised backdoor That and your newfound ability to psychically perceive the clovers wherever they may be helps you swing open the door and swiftly make your escape from this place of horror living gate unlocked door, good time gate path, good time gate pulp, good time plot All of a sudden, you're in a completely different environment The vine walls expand to reveal a scene right out of the story books, with a picnicking family of four enjoying a spread of delicious food in the grassy field adjacent to the woods Nothing odd about that, you suppose, though where the path and tunnel were is now nothing more than an ordinary tree stump Good time gate path : Good time gate pulp: cypress tree, locked gate In an instant you're back at the beginning where you first began psychically perceiving this branch of the good time gate network Though puzzling, this journey through these mysterious portals doesn't appear to have done anything to your corpse or mind so there's that to be grateful for at least Lizard skull plot: gator wrestle pit All of sudden you find yourself in an environment that looks like it was lifted straight out a cyberpunk flick sat right there in front of you is the very same gator skull that you just thought of The combination of this and the environment severely creeped you out to the point where your psyche suffers a total system meltdown that results in your death Statues with incomprehensible symbols carved into them line path for several more miles before it diverts from its current position along side the canyon and leads you to an ancient city situated on rocky terrain just steps away from where the statues are gator wrestle pit Rambling gate: suawannee river, camp cornielia, chase prairie Bizarre paling Glowing orbs appear one by one high above a seemingly boundless canyon And, of course, there's the sky sapling prairie green prairie path, clover marked trail On returning from the portal you just came from, a series of black and green cubes materialize all around you forming a perfect cage that your mind instinctively fears as a threat Somehow, you know all too well that you'll be drawn inexorably to one of them eventually of course you've no idea which yet but it hardly matters when they all look the same after all sapling prairie, Sunset gate: prairie of floyd smooth rock canyon, rancher paddocks You find yourself transported back to the living room in which you began this experiment There are other people in here now, two girls and a guy, all of similar universityage and all looking curiously at you as if you're the newcomer in a space simply too small for a stranger A timer set for the hour you spent inside the cave now sits on the table counting down to zero where it then flips over to an hourglass prairie of floyd, sinking sandbar You open your eyes to the sight of a burning sun high up in the cloudless sky All you can do is lay there and stare at it till its warmth has done its work to relieve the stiffness in your bones and joints new island, suawannee river Slowly you slip back into the realm of the living once more Prairie of minni: lake of minni, big water lake You stumble through the undergrowth around the pond and lay back down on the same rock you were sitting on before you passed out Interesting adventures, to be sure, but you wish they didn't keep revolving around states of perpetual dehydration and extreme hunger pains Assuming the events of the previous cycles are in any way related, and you have no reason to believe they aren't given that seed, it would seem that your time is running out There's only one thing for it: you grip the holy book as hard as you can and head towards the west to begin the cycle again Suawannee river: chase prairie, prairie of minni, bobcat prairie, You have to go down that rushing river if you ever hope to escape this accursed place Perhaps, just perhaps, you might even get lucky Camp cornielia: brokendown fort, old nameless town The water churns and froths all around you, tossing your tiny raft about like flotsam and jetsam as you struggle to keep it above water The noise is tremendous as buildings and entire chunks of ancient highways are squeezed and ground down into the swirling mass Countless metres below, grey-white tendrils of foam almost fuzzy at this distance, a solid stone aqueduct spans the river in an otherwise unbroken line Chase prairie: island of rosewell, dinner pond, black jack island You still don't understand where this place is, really With a heavy sigh of relief you lie back against your pack to await the opening of the so-called fifth portal Hours pass but the overcast and rust-brown sky keeps the sun's worst heat at bay Island of rosewell: rocky plains, camp fort You plant your hands against the rocky soil and lean out as far as you can over the Flint River to lap up a couple of mouthfuls of the sweetest, freshest water you've ever tasted There's no telling when you'll get the opportunity to drink again so you make the most of it, swilling, slurping and guzzling down that glorious liquid The pocket: You scramble back to your feet to see a short, swarthy man, dressed in eastern-garb similar to that given to you by Lars Manton but far finer and cleaner return to camp fort, to prairie of kimberly With blinding speed the door slams open and before you even know what is happening, you have been grabbed by the scruff of your neck and thrown out onto the rocky ground Black jack island: arrival isle, camp prairie, prairie of kingmen You sit down against one of the cold metal walls and try to make yourself as comfortable as you can It's a pretty grim situation you've landed in this time but there's little point in getting all worked up over it because you're pretty sure the word if hollowed out pearlescent blue shell that you always hold onto is going to come in handy here Prairie of floyd: petering prairie, aqueduct of upton, aqueduct outlet of valley Everything goes black as the portal opens only to reveal the beginning of a huge underground complex with ceilings so high they are lost in darkness far above you and corridors sprawling off either side The acrid smell of cigarette smoke tickles your nostrils and as you cough the heavy iron door swings shut behind you revealing a tall, slender man wearing spectacles leaning against the wall New island: open territory prairie, old western town Lake of minni: islands of minni, strange island open prairie, flat island, minni lake Everywhere you look there is water Everywhere Above, below, to all sides, excluding the direction you're heading of course, is nothing but endless ocean Your throat dries up just pondering it strange island, Big water lake: great basin, edge of great plains, islands of the prairie You haven't eaten in days apart from some mouldy crackers and yesterday you drank from a stagnant puddle that made you vomit repeatedly but still feel endlessly thirsty Your tongue has swollen to more than twice it's size and the lining of your mouth hurts like your lips are horribly chapped but you can hardly even feel them any more Sapling prairie: pine island, lake of floyd, island of fiddler The door to the chamber overlooks a barren rocky plain but through the doorway you can see that over the railing and down several floors is nothing Just empty space To your right another doorway reveals a short staircase leading onto yet anouther level Behind you the first doorway on the floor below reaveals a spiraling staircase twisting both up and down seemingly forever Bobcat prairie: chupacabra island, open valley, winding moutains, prairie You had the strangest dream You were a fox and were running through an endless prairie pursued by wolves You've always loved the bigopen plains and the thought of it causes you to feel drawn to that direction so despite your inner voice telling you to simply abandon the ship entirely you head off across the deck and down the side of the hull toward the bow Islands of minni: fields of minni islands, open chupacabra island within big trees, minni large lake such trees Kill me Waking in the pitch blackness of your metal prison with only bitter thoughts, agonizing over decisions you wish you could redo but can never take back, each more disastrous than the last Strange island: ruins on the prairie, chimney islands, tree line moutains Pine island: moutainous island, small tree line mountains Light swings down from a metal handle on the ceiling and bright enough to actually hurt your eyes Sitting up you find yourself on a bare metal table in a large metal room dominated by a huge machine of some kind with long complex internal mechanisms Pushing yourself into a sitting position you look down at yourself and find you're naked and scan your body quickly for any sign of trauma but you seem to be fine Lake of floyd: island of floyd, mitcheel island big bobcat prairie, island of summer A green herb is growing here Island of summer: island of trees, wolves island, prairie, chupacabra mountains You can see the open hold of the ship ahead of you and smell the fresh air emanating from it As you climb through the hatch a wave of humid jungle air washes over you Island of fiddler: large tree island, open big trees island, large island Swamp of fiddler: humid swamp, small island You are on the upper level in a room with barren walls and a small table under a security camera Two wooden doors lead out of the room A metal ladder leads down You find yourself climbing down a homemade ladder into the blackness of Island of floyd: soldier camp, boom shaw island, lake of floyd You are on a raised Metal walkway in an old room with a dim light hazing above your head The room has several old pieces of tech and a sotve which is dented and rusted out You can see exits leading North, south and To the east You can also head down below A metal ladder hangs against the wall waiting to be descended You see something scratched in the rust on the ladder: "1234" Mitcheel island: old fields, open valley You are on a raised railed walkway in an old room with a dim light hazing above your head Soldier camp: open shaw island, sun island, night twin island Swap around the numbers as you like, the result is still an incomprehensible jumble of letters and numbers With a sigh you realize there is nothing more to find here and move on to Boom shaw island: islands, tree line mountains Deep within the twisting and turning cave you start seeing bright colors shining out from under protruding rocks Anticipating finding something remarkable your heart skips a beat when you uncover a beautiful purple and blue painting of some kind of deer with horns? It takes a moment for it to dawn on you that this is just utter nonsense Dinner pond: booga boo island, honey island Sitting in the water is a table with two trees growing through it and holding it up A large net hangs over the water under the table with dozens of different fruits hanging from it You reach up and grab one as you see Anthony does and you find yourself chewing on a peach You left with the peach in your mouth, then you had an orange, then you ate a pear honey island, Booga boo island: small island, shubu lake, mountain range ridge Thinking you saw something move out of the corner of your eye you spin around only to see a squirrel disappear up a tree Unnerved you keep a watch out for any more signs of life but nothing else makes itself known to you except the soft chattering of leaves in the light breeze that runs through the trees Honey island: As you are navigating your way through the blue stem grass you spot a comb trying to blend in with its surroundings by adopting the same color It seems to have perfect teeth marks in it though which makes you narrow it down to being from a horse or a cow Keeping secrets is important to some people It looks like something is written on the inside You see a lot of nope just more teeth marks Mountain range ridge: Suddenly you hear a bloodcurdling scream piercing through the silence and paralyzing you in your footsteps Keeping secrets is important to some people Desire belongs between subject and object, like the relationship that exists between man and woman: desire is all the same Everything begins with a hope Everything is directed toward an object, or if you prefer, toward a subject ; (a personage, a god) But in either case, this subject or object outside of us is only significant in as much as it is able to awaken a sentiment in us: fear before the gods, love for a person Desire belongs between subject and object, Faradays fields : trees, side island Everything goes black and you are forever confined to a box of pain and suffering which constantly shifts and changes around you The DFI pulls from the pockets of the dead their driver's licenses or passports and dumps the bodies naked into a meatgrinder where other corpses have been dumped before them Out of the grinder comes hamburger to be formed into patties, breaded, deep-fried, bagged, & frozen for future consumption Constructions by the milkman: mailboat inn, hospital cafeteria Time passes before you realize that a hamburger has just touched your lips pulled back now touches them again Time has passed but you really can't tell when inside the black box You can't see anything or anyone and can only rely on your other senses and the feeling you've gotten from the hamburger as it seems to repeatedly tease your lips and pull away Pure perception of modern world: soup kitchen, residence hotel Your ears are bombarded with a chaotic array of elevator music It would put you to sleep if it wasn't for the occasional jolts of static electricity crackling through cheap speakers which keep you on edge and awake You're seated in front of a spinning wheel with various items labeled with amounts from 01 - $1 Itsy bitsy microscopic seed : horse stable, fort franklin It is then shortly followed by the sound of door you entered from slamming shut and locking The light from the small window above the door becomes a laser beam from which you can see dust particles floating A steady ticking comes from an old wall clock projector An ancient HH Holmes sits somewhere behind it watching you A loud chime plays every hour and you are given a painful electric shock before the chime resounds throughout the room Wait Little turpentine laden paintbrush : bunkhouse, camp humphrey Holmes was hanged and evidence indicates his body were buried next to the real H Holmes Which means that this HH Holmes is just an impersonator and the real one must be somewhere near by After realizing this you rush leaves the room but all of the doors are locked and all the rooms are empty You begin to think that you are in a huge fun house where everything pops out to intimidate you Maybe it's all an illusion Middle eastern traditions : dresser, fully painted house Supreme wickedness : window, bank of america The door transforms into a huge grinning demon head The eyes glow red and fire billows out of the nostrils "YOU HAVE GIVEN IN TO THE LUSTS OF THE FLESH NOW YOU MUST PAY FOR YOUR SINS " a booming voice intones near your ear You try to explain that you're just here to investigate but you are given no quarter intemperate Railroad street, artists loft district "IF YOU PARTICIPATED IN THE HOLMES SLAUGHTERINGS, THEN KNOW THAT DEATH IS WAITING FOR YOU Think martin codel : Demons bellow their hot fumes into your face You feel like throwing up when a long long finger seems to enter your body "YOUR PAST CANNOT BE ERASED WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? Keeping secrets : private domicile, mansion and estates "WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO HIDE? WHY WON'T YOU TALK ABOUT YOURSELF? ARE YOU A MURDERER ALSO? or whoever he is seems to know things you've done in the past Things you once thought long forgotten In panic, you compare your own memories against his words You are absolutely terrified to see that he is right, down to the last grisly detail Falcone naples : idaho, a state street apartment At once the walls close in on you The heat becomes unbearable and your skin begins to prickle as if soaking in hot water Above you, the skeleton of some huge animal hangs from the ceiling "PERHAPS YOU WISH TO TALK ABOUT YOUR FATHER NOW" Your father or was he? His face is all mashed in and bloody He's yelling at you for something but the sound is barely audible against nowadays standards The trustees : gopher lounge, hospital street In the next blink you are transported to a different place, although there is no visible way of getting inside Dimly lit with sunbeams peering in through a grime encrusted window, the room has a comforting feel to it but something sinister lurks here too Framed newspaper clippings hang over a small upright piano The sun baked : greenwich street, east village The carpeted room is baking hot and something hangs from the ceiling Homer coulee : ottawa, queen st café From irons that pierce savagely through his wrists The screams are unbearable until the pain destroys his vocal cords He's dying and he's being eaten from the inside out Holger McHenderson's prone on the mattress, or what remains of him Rsa robinson : sewell, south seattle district The bed where the wolves tore at his skinny legs is soaked with rust colored blood Trollbomb's shadow on the opposite wall stretches out over him like a harbinger of doom Bitterroot : settler, the terminal morgue "Yeah, it's real nasty in here Who are you again? " the CSI nerd says from behind his thick glasses fantasy and reality have become one 16 deceptive : pro choice clinic , zergwatch Acid is vomit in your mouth and churning in your belly You need to release it but the stink of the dead and dying here makes you hold it back A heathen hippie girl fried with obscene amounts of electricity due to refusal to "stand together against the anti-social forces of big pharma A father hangs from the ceiling, his skinny arms outstretched towards the device that killed him pro choice clinic , You recognize him as the father of one of the middle school youngsters you counsel You look away, that scream still rings in your ears and hurts your brain Two peas in a pod : capitol hill, caravan lounge He had a wife and son Mother is the mayor's wife Carelessly dumped garbage litters nearly every street You are too shaken to try to sort out the trash from the corpses at this point But, you know the city and realize that mass hysteria has seized the populace Yet, it is more like panicked bedlam than a mass evacuation Everyone is heading every which way you turn and you've already had to run several checkpoints Makeshift barricades are being hastily constructed out of dumpsters and newspaper dispensers Once you think you spotted your sister but couldn't be sure from this distance From what you saw she was pushing a grocery cart full of suitcases And being pursued by a mob of terrorists! Your heart is in your throat and you could use some water but keep running in the opposite direction You see in the panicking crowds, rioters burning buildings and an advancing military force blocking all streets leading out of the downtown core It's the hardest you've run in a long time but eventually the skeletons of high-rise buildings give way to suburbs and then turns into countryside You see a river and wade into the crisp water up to your knees to douse the ache in your cupped hands and take a few healing gulps You fill your canteen before hiking the opposite direction towards the setting sun You need to calm down You need to rest and think but there are too many what-ifs to consider: What if your sister really was here? What if she was taken away by the terrorists? What if she is injured or needs help? What if you could have helped her? What if she's already dead and you weren't there What if you came back to help her and you were too late? What if she could be helped? Sitting by the side of a gravel road, you pull out your phone for the first time in months It's dead and there's no signal out here but perhaps it wasn't a total loss as you use it to bash in the skull of a rabid Rottweiler ambling nearby Setting up camp some distance from the road, you take stock of your supplies You also have: One ; (1) bag of assorted pot, pills, and ecstasy confiscated from ravers You've got two gallons of water, a half packet of instant noodles, your mess kit, and about a pound of beef jerky Each meal of noodles takes a quarter-pound of the stuff so you've got about eight meals there (1) zippo lighter (1) sleeping bag ; (empty) Two hundred ; (200) wooden matches Which amounts to two or three days if you're conservative and fast walking You consider everything you know so far about the events--and there's not much Your sister Elizabeth was out when terrorists struck The city fell three days later under martial law after holding out for as long as it could Think The terrorists--probably Islamists, it fits their MO--terrorized the city for three days before the military opened fire, killing nearly five hundred people two thousand Or was it six? Dead isn't dead anymore You've seen videos on the internet of tens of thousands of corpses after government troops opened fire on them (And look what it got them) Surely someone would resent the 'murican regime for causing this collapse? There has to be a reason why they cut the power Did they think they'd get away with it? Or did they intend to bring back civilization after everything was running again? You have been chewing on one of the many sticks of beef jerky--almost toothpicks at this point--staring at the flickering campfire You toss it back and forth between your hands Who was "they? " What was their purpose? It has probably been hours since you last thought about the hypothermia that probably would have killed you if it hadn't been for two paper-thin sleeping bags But there's no way in hell you're setting them on the ground--with or without a print This tarpaulin will have to do Thank goodness for survivalist parents You'll need fire to keep warm You can never have enough water Especially out here Sure, you still have the potable water you filled up before entering the woods But what if the pond is contaminated and you need to boil or filter the water? Fire for warmth and boiling water You'll have to collect wood first thing in the morning They didn't exactly teach us how to start fires in scouts I'm sure there are videos on it You'll have to evacuate your bowels soon But then, where will you do that? Not here That's for sure Dig a hole and cover it up? Then again, what if a snake found its way into it? EVER thought about that? Not saying there are any here, but I mean, this is the woods You could go in the pot Boil it after, if you want There's always the sleeping bag At least that way no animals would bother touching it or shitting in it Unless they crawl inside with you! Who's to say they haven't already? On second thought, forget the backpack idea All these options and only one defecation: You Sorry, door prize Screw it I have a reputation--well, actually a good chunk of iDEAL's money--to maintain And that reputation says you find the best spots to take a dump: proudly on asphalt As you step behind a tree you consider what might happen if the tree were to suddenly fall and squish you Who would come get your backpack? Would your sister be motivated enough to drive out here and get it? Your parents? There's a huge rustling sound You drop the leaf you were going to use for toilet paper You turn and look behind you You don't see anything, but you're sure that noise wasn't made by a small woodland creature Wolves! They'd love some tender, defenseless hiker meat like you right now Should you run? Can you reach the gun in time? Just as you decide to turn and make a dash for your: weapon, you see the most magnificent creature behind you Its eyes are almost angelic in nature and seem to shine with a divine light Though its large, its movements are elegant So elegant, in fact, that they're startling when matched with the creature's appearance Oh wait! It's-- Yes! It's Sven! And he's coming straight for-- "Rrawr! The beast sniffs you, its large nostrils reserved only for its master You reach a trembling hand to pet him when-- "Whoah! --the hideous monster leaps away from you and begins to prance around the clearing, obviously enjoying the chase You see that he has astring dangling from his mouth and Is that a green plant voucher? Several more vouchers spill out of his mouth when he opens it to yawn And to yawn again, as if to confirm what you see But he's not done yet With a snort he begins giggling and Is that feces? indeed He has fills your lap with fresh mountain doo-doo! You protest by waving your arms about and trying to stand up--to no avail--Sven's massive bulk just keeps coming The animal knocks you over with his snout then begins licking your face affectionately The stench! So awful! But the dog just wants to play He's curious about you and isn't afraid How adorable You almost want to take him with you Almost but, Between his size and incessant flatulence, your sister certainly wouldn't want him inside neither would anyone with a nose or pants ; (haha) To be or not to be Yeah, in the story Hamlet asks that question, but it could just as well be asked by you right now Will you ; (whisper) take him with you? It suddenly occurs to you that this animal would be absolutely no problem at all if you had him as a companion Car rides? No problem Hotels? Sleeping outdoors? Still no problem It would be just like having a dog when you were little! But would your sister agree to take care of it? Only one way to find out You pick up the poo with numerous green vouchers and shove them in your pocket You then lick your fingers and attempt to wipe off the ick on your pants, but do more smearing than cleaning Definitely not something you'd show your friends boyfriend girlfriend