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artemismoon12writes · 4 years

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Title: Robin, Prince Eric, and Two Zombies Walk into a Pizzeria

Daltonfic Big Bang; Week 4, Day 4; Halloween

“I thought we weren’t supposed to wear costumes to Avery’s party?” “I told you, you should have dressed up.” “We’re not going to the party.”

---

“We are far too old to go trick or treating!”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Wes said, dragging Danny behind him.

Wes’ Robin costume was something he’d worn before, but it still fit so he’d pulled it on. Danny was protesting, pulling down the arms on the Prince Eric costume Wes had forced him into. He hadn’t wanted to dress up, he’d just wanted to go to the alumni party, eat a bowl of chips, and forget about how badly he’d messed up in front of the whole NYU swim team yesterday.

Wes didn’t accept those excuses, shoving him into whatever he’d had in his closet until something came out of it.

“Why do you even own a flute?” Danny asked, trying hard not to drop the instrument which Wes had tucked into the wide blue sash at his waist.

“It was my sisters- actually so is that scarf, so we can’t get it dirty.” Wes said in way of explanation, pulling him down the road.

“How about we just put it all back? Avery said it isn’t a costume party.”

“I told you, we don’t care about Sanchez, or Avery, or Justin, or whoever is throwing the alumni party this year. I’m taking you trick or treating!”

Danny groaned, “We’re just a block away. Can we just go there instead?”

“Hey Danny.”

Wes and Danny turned to see their fellow alumni- who Wes was constantly forgetting still lurked around New York- on the other side of the car-logged sideroad. Logan stopped mid wave, concerned. Derek was with Logan, presumably both heading to the Dalton party.

“You okay?”

“He’s fine Logan!” Wes said, rolling his eyes. Danny elbowed him, he liked Logan- besides, that was all high school drama, they were college kids now.

Logan crossed the street anyways, definitely not in the Halloween spirit; though Derek made an effort by smearing his face with zombie paint and just wearing his old soccer uniform.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to wear costumes to Avery’s party?” Logan asked.

“I told you, you should have dressed up.” Derek told his tall friend.

Wes frowned. “We’re not going to the party.”

“Then why are you out?” Derek asked. “I mean, Avery’s got the whole 23rd floor of the Augustine booked for this.”

Danny saw his chance. “Because Wes says he wants to take me trick or treating. It’s so stupid right?”

“You’ve never been! I can’t let this continue!” Wes exclaimed, waving the pillowcase he’d grabbed in his optimism.

Danny looked over to Derek and Logan, hoping for support from reasonable adults, but only found shocked expressions.

“Never?”

“Not even once?” Logan asked.

“God, I went every year, and then just got more candy until Amanda was too old for me to babysit her.” Derek said. “Trick or treating is the shit. Were your parents religious or something?”

Danny shrugged, feeling self conscious. He’d already had the same argument with Wes. “They just, never saw the point? Isn’t it a little weird to run around asking for candy?”

“It’s free candy!” Derek insisted, “It’s a tradition. Shit, I’ve wanted an excuse since I was a kid- Logan we have-”

Logan was ahead of him, pulling a tie out of his pocket to wrap around his head and wiping some of Derek’s zombie makeup on his thumb to smear haphazardly on his own cheek. “Hughes, we’re helping. Avery can deal for one night. You cannot go an entire life without trick or treating.”

Danny looked at Logan like he was nuts. “It’s not a big deal!”

“No it is! And I’m glad Hughes got you dressed up, two blocks up is a whole line of brownstones and they’ll be perfect.”

“You don’t even have a bag!”

“We’ll share!” Wes insisted, confused but elated that he now had allies in this- even if they were unexpected. “It’s not really about the candy, but the experience.”

“How often can you say you can just walk around, knocking on people’s doors, and they welcome- no- encourage it!” Derek said, jogging ahead of them backwards because he already knew where Logan was suggesting.

“This is insane.” Danny said, almost stumbling over a pile of soggy leaves from the park beside them. “We should just go to Aver-“

“He will understand!” Wes insisted, shoving Danny forward with the bag in hand. “Hell, Logan, text him- maybe we can get a whole convoy going.”

“Nah, I’m cutting it close already. You can’t go trick or treating without a costume, and he definitely won’t be wearing one.”

“Because we’re adults-”

“If it makes you feel better,” Wes said as they rounded the corner, “we can give the candy away afterwards.”

Danny wasn’t convinced; but the line of brownstones in front of them did seem to be much more fun than a crowded, stuffy lounge party at the Augustine would have been. Plastic skeletons hung up on the bannisters, softly glowing jack-o-lanterns, and fake spiderwebs strung like candy floss between each townhouse. Little kids swarmed, dressed as what were probably cartoon characters Danny was too old to understand- mixed with the classic horror monsters that endured across the ages.

“Come on- wait no, not that one. The light’s off.” Derek said.

“They have a pumpkin though.” Wes pointed out.

“God, you guys just go to the next house. The lady’s in a witch outfit

Danny found himself pushed in front of a woman in a tattered, but incredibly clean, dress wearing a black, pointed hat on her green wig.

“Uh trick or treat?” He said hesitantly.

She gave a high pitched laugh. Danny jumped, startled at the sound. She then laughed more softly, looking up from under her hat with a smile.

“Hey, you’re a little older than I expected.”

Danny’s little chorus piped up: “It’s his first time!” “His parents never took him!” “It’s unfair!”

She raised her eyebrows, examining the group. “Well, I have to agree. How old are you now?”

“20.” Danny admitted, embarrassed to be standing on the stairs of a brownstone with this lady judging him and his parents. They weren’t perfect, but he still felt compelled to defend them.

“Well this is long overdue.” She said, digging into the bowl in her lap and dumping a huge handful of fun-sized Kit Kats into the pillow case. “Hey were is everyone else’s bags?”

Logan shrugged. “It’s more about Danny.”

Wes elbowed him out of the way. “We thought we’d share!”

“It was a spur of the moment thing.” Derek admitted.

“Okay, well since you’re all dressed up.” She threw three more into the bag.

“Happy Halloween!” She called, sending them scurrying down the stairs and onto the next house.”

“Happy Halloween!” The group called, even Danny.

Wes slung his arm around Danny, pulling him up the next stairs to ring the bell. “See that wasn’t so bad.”

“I just-”

“Trick or Treat!” The group chorused again; dissolving into laughter when the man at the door came out with a bushy beard, silky nightgown, and a sign on his chest saying ‘Freudian Slip’.

The night continued like that, with Danny getting more and more comfortable as they made their way down the block. Most at the door saw the humour, or if they even questioned the quartet, only clucked in sympathy and gave Danny an extra handful. If anything, it was Logan who got the most flack for his lack of preparedness. One woman made him recite the Monster Mash for candy because he didn’t ‘try hard enough’.

By the end, they had half a pillowcase and crashed into a pizzeria that may or may not be owned by Wes’ family.

“I told you you’d enjoy it!” Wes said, spreading their haul out on the table as Derek waited for the full pizza they’d worked up an appetite for.

Danny looked away, “I guess.”

“You guess?” Logan sat back on the chair; knocking everything without a ‘peanut-free’ symbol out of his pile. “It was fun, admit it.”

“Maybe it was.”

“Pizza’s here!” Derek announced, placing the box on the table. They forgot to specific it wasn’t for take-out, so Derek started playing with the plastic ‘table’ as they dug in.

“You glad you went?” Logan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Of course! Everyone got to do it at least once!”

“Just once.”

“Happy Halloween Danny. Next year we’ll hit up the bars, but this year, just pretend we’re not all decrepit old people.”

“I’ll try.”

#daltonficbigbang2020 #daltonfic #brotp #gen #danny abbot #wes hughes #logan wright #derek siegerson #oneshot #artemiswrites

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margridarnauds · 5 years

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XVI. The Tower and XXII. The Fool please!

Thanks!

XVI. The Tower: Do you easily change your opinion on matters? What makes you lose faith in other people? Is there anything, or anyone you feel safe with?

Do you easily change your opinion on matters?

I don’t really think I change my opinion TOO much, at its base, if that makes any sense? When I’m around people, I do find myself molding myself into what the conversation requires, or at least shutting myself up unless it’s something that I find truly deplorable/can back up easily, but I think it takes a lot for my own personal opinion to change. Except for that one day or so when I woke up a conservative Methodist and went to bed as a liberal (alright I was “libertarian” but that went down the drain fast) atheist. That was a fun time. In my research, I try to keep an open mind, but I’ll own to my own confirmation bias. I can say “This is a good paper, you make good arguments,” but…do I fully accept it in my mind? No. But also I tend to see things more in shades of gray to a potentially annoying extent as it is, so when I change my opinion, it’s…not necessarily a matter of saying “This thing has some bad points” it’s “This thing’s bad points now outweigh its good points in my mind.” Part of why I ultimately chose lit over history as my focus was that I like that there’s not really a press for an Ultimate Truth in lit, in the sense that everything’s much more open to interpretation, whereas history tends to pressure more for definite ARGUMENTS.

What makes you lose faith in other people?

It’s odd, because losing faith in people, for me, is rarely a matter of ONE single thing. I try to give people second and third chances, I tend to brush off that little niggling, “Something’s not right here” feeling, etc. So, when I finally lose faith, it’s a Big Thing, but it’s also not one that I can solidly put down to a single thing, which also makes it very hard when I’m trying to build a timeline in my head. Betrayal, lies, cruelty (though I do TRY to understand that people can have bad days, but…it doesn’t ERASE it, you know?), willful ignorance, finding out that they support things that I find personally deplorable, all the things that you’d really expect.

(Funny story there: For ages I didn’t get crushes. Not one. Then, I got a strange…thing on a guy in my German class. Not a straight-up crush, but I LIKED him in a way that was slightly more than platonic. And I was like, “Okay, I’m bi instead of ace after all.” Then, I found out he supported Trump and he made some insanely transphobic and biphobic comments under the guise of “debate” because he was That Guy. /Crush, and that was basically the last time I got a crush on a guy. My brain just went “nein.”)

It’s also really, really hard if I’d previously really trusted and looked up to someone and that happens. That’s really when I start wondering if there’s something wrong with *me* or if I’m over-exaggerating things to suit my own narrative.

Is there anything, or anyone you feel safe with?

My dogs, my cats, my mom, for the most part, though she does have the little habit of telling my aunt things in the name of “family unity” when I had meant for it to be a personal matter. See: When I begged her not to tell my aunt I’m an atheist because my aunt is REALLY STAUNCHLY conservative, when I begged her not to tell her that I wanted to get out of the country because of the situation at home + politically, etc.

Safety is a generally relative concept, anyway; I can trust that my mom and aunt won’t abandon me to be raised by wolves and will be there for me when I need them barring a huge catastrophe, I can trust that my mom can help me work through an anxiety attack and keep a solid 80% of my secrets, I can trust that my friends can handle my various eccentricities and questionable sense of humor, and I can trust that my dogs and cats will be with me no matter what because I’m the one who feeds them and gives them scritches.

It’s all much less depressing than it sounds.

XXII. The Fool: How much weight do you give to other people’s opinion? What is an adventure you were part of - or you wish you could be part of? Is there something you have an endless passion for?

How much weight do you give to other people’s opinion?

I blame it on the bullying, but I have this odd…thing where I simultaneously have an “I don’t give a fuck” and “I give every fuck” attitude to people’s opinions. Like, on one hand, there’s probably not been a single feature of mine that’s not been ripped to pieces at some point. I mean, I had comics drawn of me having sex with my cats by my best friend at the time when I was 12 years old. It was a lovely, lovely period in my life. And, as a result, I think I developed a very self-deprecating sense of humor, as well as the idea that, well, I’ll be ripped to shreds no matter what, so I might as well express myself and damn the consequences.

Well…that and being homeschooled for most of my high school years. It’s astonishing how much your opinions and interests can diverge if you’re not under the pressure to necessarily conform.

But, at the same time, it also made me sensitive to personal criticism, as I have this idea that everyone hates me and is just being polite, that I’m really annoying, etc. One of the things that actually devastated me in college was reading teacher feedback, because even though I knew they were just trying to help me become a stronger academic, the thought that they might find me…wanting in some way stung. Especially when it was teachers that I really respected and looked up to. (Which, tbh, was all my teachers because I have a painful…thing when it comes to authority figures and trying to appease them and-Oh God I’m actually Peyrol minus the homicide, erratic temper, and questionable BDSM. That and our faculty was lovely.) I legit had to have my mom read the feedback, because I wanted to have it filtered and I was, like, worried one of them would say, “Rachel, you are a disgrace to the Humanities program and this school. This paper is shit. Goodbye” or something.

I’Il often find myself softening my opinions or keeping silent if I feel like it could be dangerous, or if it might affect someone’s view of me, and I’m hyper-sensitive about, say, pauses in a conversation, because I’ll be like, “Oh, I’ve done it now.” And then in the next second, I’ll reblog, “FUCK OFF ANTIS” on my blog because, again, it’s a strange duality…thing with me.

What is an adventure you were part of - or you wish you could be part of?

Oh, God, I’ve had some wild times. There’s the time that we were moving and ended up driving over a thousand miles overnight in a fifteen passenger van because we had 17 cats, two birds, and a bunny with us. And then had to travel BACK the next day because we had business to attend to back in our old place.

OR the time that my late uncle lost his keys on a rollercoaster at Busch Gardens and so we ended up having to travel over three hours from where we live to rescue him, which is how we ended up meeting his boyfriend for the first time.

OR the time that we picked up the youngest of our three dogs, Riley, when we ran into a curb less than ten minutes out, encountered various and assorted technical issues during the ~4 hours of the rest of the trip, and THEN when we were going back I had my hands nearly nibbled to death by an overeager puppy who was excited by the prospect of new friends. (This is how we met the nice old lady who gave me the money for the Toho 1789 + Riley is a sweet dog once he’s settled, so it was #WorthIt)

I really, really want to get out of the States, travel to different places around the world…see more musicals. Definitely see more musicals. I’m very aware of how limited my experience is, not having ever been out of my own country. (Unless you count briefly being over Canada when I was en route to Alaska, which I don’t.) I would love to go to Ireland and see some of the places mentioned in the various myths that I’ve read so much about, possibly embarrass myself by crying over Bres’ grave; I’d love to hit up the Tower of London or Versailles; go to either a Toho or Takarazuka musical in Japan (If and when my Japanese improves beyond「アメリカ人です」since I’d really rather be able to show my face in public). See snow again, maybe, since I do miss it.

My old college offered study abroad trips to Oxford over the summer and I REALLY wanted to go, but, alas, it was insanely expensive + I wasn’t entirely sure about how much I would be able to enjoy myself if I had schoolwork to do, since I’d end up focusing on making that perfect rather than actually appreciating the trip.

Alternatively: The Ghost Tour at Saint Augustine. I want to go on it SO MUCH.

Is there something you have an endless passion for?

Any of the musicals I’ve been lucky to get into (Especially. The one. You know the one. The one that I don’t even need to mention given that it consumes about 80% of my brain power at any given point), anything related to Irish Mythology, especially when it comes to my boy Bres, the French Revolution even though it also scares me because the scope of it’s so large and I never really feel like I make progress in it, female villainesses who can kill me and I would thank them (which is…a disturbingly large amount, actually).

In general, I’m the type of person who develops special interests where I’ll become OBSESSIVE over learning everything I can about something and kind of latch onto it, so anything I’ve developed that for kind of goes here by default.

And my dogs. Because they’re Good Bois (+ one Good Girl) and I honestly am not sure where I’d be atm without them. And my cats for tolerating my shit for this long.

#berncat #long post #i swear I'm a more or less well adjusted human being

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rosedalemike · 6 years

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The Mood: Blog #11 “WTF is next, ROSEDALE?!”

I've had so many random ideas for what this next blog should be about. I wanna try to stay on track with the story of Rosedale's farewell/next chapter as that seems to be the most common topic with the lovely Rosedaliens that have been coming out to shows. But the truth is that I'm just as unsure as everyone else. I don't even have a clear vision of what I picture September looking like. I guess my plan in September is to plan what 2019 is going to look like. 2019 seems so much further than it actually is, I'm sure. The only things I'm sure of are that I would like to: 1: be a helpful contribution to music scenes (artists, venues, promoters, fans etc.) using more than just my own voice. 2: keep making new music under a different name (using my voice ...maybe some features...maybe a band? Who knows. I'd love for someone else to decide that.) 3: continue to work with other artists on their art and ideas. I know those are all vague ideas. And regarding the name delema; I have a giant draft email to myself (the most common email address in my inbox is [email protected]) that has a bunch of artist names and band names. Some are pretty good, some are not.

Self-Lyric Party:

" 'cause I live entirely for the self-satisfaction that I made this- I turn Whiter than a song in C as I watch the room empty No! Just press on, believe. My numbers are truly sad Tell me again; can I beat Quicksand? Yes I Can! " - Quicksand

As I check back to my last blog (to see how I quote/credit a lyric party...to keep continuity) I noticed that google placed a Chipotle add on the right side of the blog page! This is likely because I searched Chipotle at least 10 times in this past week. And that is because there is new company in the new Rosedale crew already and Chipotle sometimes hooks up traveling musicians with free food.

Her name is Siena. We all know Bryan, right? (cousin, hockey guy, #1 merch dude/email address collector...) Siena is the female Bryan. But luckily, she's not my cousin. I mean it'd be awesome to have known her all my life (like I've known Bryan all my life,) but for "heart-crush" reasons, I'm really glad she's most definitely not my cousin.

I met Siena at our San Diego show in November 2017. I say "our" because she's in a band called Going Postal, and they played that Soma show too. Like many bands today, they'll admit that their future is a giant question mark. But unlike many bands today, they sound awesome!

Check them out

.https://goingpostalca.bandcamp.com/releases

I call Siena "S Money" because one of her friends she was facetiming called her that and I, too, wanted to sound gangsta- "DJ $ Money" to be exact. Siena is finishing her final online college classes while traveling around America with me and selling my merch. When she's not selling merch she's helping me move my insane amounts of gear. When she's not selling merch and moving my insane amounts of gear she's teaching me how to promote in a more professional manner by helping me post enticing social media posts/stories/streams more regularly/organically.

Siena is a very kind-hearted, helpful champion that is way too chill to be so attractive. I just may be the luckiest Tall Canadian with Way Too Much Gear to have her on tour with me. After this tour she's moving to LA to become a world famous movie star so I only have about a month more of her awesomeness. She likes animals a lot, especially animal memes/vines. Mostly cats and dogs. So share/send any good ones and I'll make sure she sees them. (I'm also currently tethering off her wifi hotspot because all of Ohio's wifi is down right now.)

Now that I've made you feel warm with paragraphs of cute kittens and puppies and rock n' roll princesses and awesome music and free Chipotle and sharing wifi; I must reveal some bad news; MY BACK IS F**KED!!! I somehow slowly injured my lower back while walking down some rusty stairs at the wrestling ring venue in Benwood, WV last Tuesday. I was getting ready to catch a little light-up-with-movement Nerf football, moving no different than any human casually walking down a set of stairs- then all of a sudden I felt my back juice trickling into the lower center of my back. Don't be alarmed, this is not a career ending injury or anything. This actually happens to me every two years or so. And this time is not nearly as bad as the last time (when I was filling in for my Dad in his Canadian Tire men's hockey league and I casually skated behind my net to find out how 3 weeks of near paralyzing lower back pain felt.) It's funny; when people ask if I have tall people back problems and I'm not dealing with back problems at that given moment, I usually reply "nope". But as soon as I do experience my dual-annually (I made up that word...) back pain, I remember the last time I had severe back pain. So anyway, I had to cancel two shows and I'm not happy about it. It's getting better. I'm three days without pain relief meds. Stretching a lot. Rubbing Tiger Balm and Icey Hot every few hours. Just taking it easy in Cincinnati until Atlanta's show on Tuesday. That show is gonna be really awesome and there’s no way I’m missing it. I played drums for a band on Warped tour in Dallas too. That was pretty fun. I learned their songs in three days. They have a lot of air horns in their music so I went kind of overboard with the Roland Pad's air horn sample. (Maybe that's why they found a replacement drummer for Pittsburgh Warped.) It was fun seeing the Warped Tour for the last year and getting to play on stage again. We also went to the Cincinnati Warped Tour and learned what heat stroke felt like.

Enough updates on my odd summer. I'll wrap it up with some insightful life/music stuff as I'm hanging out with the infamous Alex Baker. https://alexanderbaker.bandcamp.com/ First though, his dad told us one of the greatest dad joke of all time:

DAD JOKE PARTY:

"I was trying to think of a good reason to go to Switzerland and then I realized the flag was a big plus."

But for real; we were talking about how things would be so different if we had just been understanding with our ex-bandmates in the golden years. We were all young and surrounded by the odd discovery of egos driven by art/success. Alex was in a band called Dewey Decibel https://alexanderbaker.bandcamp.com/album/the-dusting-dewey-decibel They had a fun indie style with a really organic, interesting production. Dewey Decibel recorded their album in their house in Nashville. From the sounds of it, once they started getting attention from NPR and local radio stations things started getting to everyone's heads.

It's not uncommon for a band to get along really well when things are on the up then fall apart when the going gets tough. The more I see it the more I understand the damage it did to Rosedale. But on the other end of that unfortunate reality is the fact that I never would have met Alex Baker if the Rockstar ego-turmoil didn't happen to Dewey Decibel and Rosedale. I probably wouldn't have met Siana (AKA DJ $ Money) either. I'm not preaching that everything happens for a reason. I'm just kinda preaching that if you take the inevitable destructive events in life and turn them into fuel to move on and stay positive, better relationships grow. And those relationships are better because you've grown and learned how to be a better person. So, like I keep driving home in all of these "Farewell Blogs", I'm looking forward to where things go. I'm happy I've experienced all the curveballs along the way to teach me how to eventually hit some home runs. I feel like I'm on the right track with these new friends that I've only met through grinding past the hard times and pressing on for what I had my heart set on. Do you ever think of how you came to know some of your best friends? Like what events led them/you there that day and how grateful you are for those events and the transparent friendships they created? I know facebook gives us the ol "5 years of friendship" tag or whatever. But sometimes I see those and think "ohhh if you only knew, facebook...me and Casey Phillips go WAY BACK!" Anyway that's all for now. If you've been thinking of meeting me or Siena or Alex Baker the best way/time to do it is to come out to an event we're at and experience some in person hangouts. This will be the last few weeks of touring for quite some time for me so really try to highlight these dates and make a solid effort to come catch a show. I promise you will not regret it.

UPCOMING SHOWS: 7/24 - Atlanta,GA @ The Masquerade 7/27 - Jacksonville, FL @ Jackrabbits 7/29 - St. Augustine, FL @ Sarbez 8/3 - Pittsburgh, PA @ Black Forge Coffee 8/4 - Niagara, NY @ Evening Star 8/7 - Brampton, ON @ Spot 1 8/10 - Charleston, WV @ The Empty Glass 8/11 - Myrtle Beach, SC @ TBA Then a bunch of East Coast tour dates.

#Rosedale #farewell #chipotle #touring #warped tour #blog #themood #dadjokes #backjuice #brokebackmike #atlanta #music #allages #shows #newmusic #hashtag #warpedtour #alexbaker

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mrlnsfrt · 5 years

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The Truth

It was suggested to me that we do a mini-series at our church on Jesus being the Way, the Truth, and the Life. We divided it among three speakers and I was assigned to talk about truth. I was excited about the idea, but the more I studied it, the more overwhelming it became. So here is what I decided on at the end and I hope you find this helpful.

I decided that Plato would be a good place to begin since Jesus’ audience would have been familiar with Platonism and it had a powerful influence over the early church (Neoplatonism).

Now, just a word of warning, if you are a philosopher you would probably want to argue or go more in depth here but in my defense I am simply setting the stage to the best of my understanding without majoring on minors, you can leave a comment below or click the social media hyperlinks on the top right of this page if you would like to discuss Greek philosophy in greater detail. The following will be a very simple and brief reference to what I perceive to be the key ideas.

I found a neat and helpful brief summary here and I’ll share the key points below.

"Truth" lays in an abstract "Ideal". We can apply the fundamental principles of mathematical proofs (logic) to locate the True form of these transcendent truths or Ideals.

The natural world we perceive through our senses (see, hear, touch, smell, etc.) reveals only a fallen, shadow, incomplete versions of this Ideal Truth.

The true "Forms" of natural things or of concepts exist in the way that mathematical truths or forms exist.Thus attempting to understand the Truth of things by examining the natural world is not only folly, but likely dangerously misleading.

Therefore philosophical contemplation (thinking logically) -- rather than observation -- is the road toward Truth.

All the other arts, including poetry and argumentation, only confuse us more, tricking us into believing false visions of Truth (example: we mistake what we see on the television for reality; a cunning lawyer can trick a stupid jury into believing the guilty innocent).

In a nutshell: Plato's mystical Idealism will be adopted by subsequent generations of Christians to explain the nature of God.

Along with other Neo-Platonists, Augustine will translate and transmit Plato's concept of Truth and its relationship to the natural world into Christian terms: this world is a shadow, fallen version of God's eternal Truths, and the pursuit of knowledge has damned humanity (see Genesis 3). (Similarly, other Jewish and Muslim scholars will transmit Platonic Idealism into Judaism and Islam, both before and after Augustine).(source)

So think about Jesus’ audience as having been strongly influenced by the idea that truth can only be accessed in the mind by thinking logically and mathematically and the observation of the physical world could never lead you to it.

I once watched an interesting documentary by the BBC entitled Dangerous Knowledge. The film begins with Georg Cantor, the great mathematician whose work proved to be the foundation for much of the 20th-century mathematics. Interestingly, he believed he was God's messenger and was eventually driven insane trying to prove his theories of infinity. He tried to prove Mathematically that God existed.

Next the documentary tells the story of Ludwig Boltzmann's struggle to prove the existence of atoms and probability eventually drove him to suicide.

Kurt Gödel, the introverted confidant of Einstein, was featured next. Godel actually proved that there would always be problems which were outside human logic. Tragically his life ended in a sanatorium where he starved himself to death.

The documentary concludes with the story of Alan Turing, the great Bletchley Park code breaker, father of computer science, died trying to prove that some things are fundamentally unprovable. (source)

Apparently, though mathematics hints at the existence of God, it is impossible to fully grasp God through mathematics alone. (possible further reading in this topic here) What I take away from this is that a strictly intellectual pursuit of God will not satisfy your soul. Also, your mind might not be able to handle your pursuit.

I would like to classify what I have described above so far as a classical approach to truth. Thought the math part also has modern aspects to it. Now I would like to transition to what I would like to classify as a modern approach to truth.

Modernism (or Enlightenment Humanism)

Reason and science provide accurate, objective, reliable foundation of “knowledge”

Science is the paradigm of all true knowledge.

We can learn and eventually solve all our problems as we evolve.

My understanding of modernism is that with the advances in science and medicine and technology and industrial revolution we stopped searching for God and looked to ourselves and the physical world to find the ultimate truth and all the answers. We became our own saviors, and in the process we killed God.

My parent’s generation had a largely modern approach to God and religion. Not that they denied God but they were sure they could find the truth and they studied and debated and fought and searched for the truth. The truth was attractive, it had value, it mattered! Truth was within our grasp in the modern world. I grew up with this view in my home and in my church. We studied the Bible to find the truth and we shared the truth with others. Well, many wanted to prove to others we had the truth! And many Christians still have this approach today.

However, my generation has rejected the modern worldview and has embraced, or at least been strongly influenced by the postmodern approach to truth.

Why?

Why would my generation abandon the solid ground of objective truth? Why would we turn from scientific proof and absolute truths? Because science and religion have failed them. All that assurance of being right and having the truth did not save us. With all the advances in medicine we feel like we are sicker today then our grandparents were when they were our age. With all the machines and factories and transportation people still go hungry around the world. With all the truth we have available, horrible things still happen.

Think about this with me.

During World War 1 and 2, it was clear who the enemy was, it was clear who the good guys were. At least that generation was sure of it, there was a problem and a clear solution. A stronger and more powerful army was able to end wars and stabilize power.

Who is the enemy today? Where is the enemy? What is the best way to combat the enemy?

Do you trust your doctor to have your best interest at heart? Do you trust the church as an institution? Do you trust your government?

Do you trust what you see on the news? Do you trust what you read?

Is marriage worth it?

How can you be sure anyone actually knows anything about God?

Post-modernism has paralyzed a generation. It is hard to commit to something when I have so many questions. My generation is less interested in marriage than previous generations. Why? Many reasons, one big one is not being sure it is a good idea, or that it would work for them. My generation is seeking their truth, but we are realizing we don’t have the means by which to find it so we tippy toe around trying different truths hoping to find one that feels right, but always afraid of fully committing to something, to anything. My generation quits and moves and struggles to settle down. Every attractive truth becomes difficult at one point and we leave in search for another truth.

It is also noticeable that worldviews are changing at a faster pace. It is very difficult to set dates to these worldviews but they would last hundreds of years, and now some are already saying the worldview my children will experience might already be post-postmodern. (The Death of Postmodernism And Beyond)

Now that I might have completely confused or bored you, what role does Jesus have in all this?

I would argue that the ultimate truth, or God, or what is good, right, beautiful, cannot be grasped by pure logic, or abstract or theoretical thinking. Similarly all that can be known of God cannot be found in a test-tube. Science and logic have not been able to grasp God, nor have science and reason been able to completely disprove God. Yet the search for God has not gone away. Though we see the challenges with our search for truth, running away from it has not solved our problems either, but rather it has led to new problems.

Depression is on the rise in the United States, according to researchers at Columbia University's Mailman School of Public Health and the CUNY Graduate School of Public Health and Health Policy. From 2005 to 2015, depression rose significantly among Americans age 12 and older with the most rapid increases seen in young people. The findings appear online in the journal Psychological Medicine. - ScienceDaily.com

When we are feeling down. When everything seems to be going wrong. When you are experiencing pain. When you don’t know whether to go all in or jump ship. You need a source of truth. You can deny it, you can argue against it, you can stomp your feet and throw a tantrum. But in the end you know you need truth.

When you realize your spouse is less the perfect, do you jump ship? What if the love died?

What about when your character is being tested, and cheating seems like a great idea?

What about when you’re so busy you just don’t have time for God, family, and health?

How do you orient your life? You need truth. Undeniable, beyond a shadow of doubt truth. Where do you find this truth?

Does it even exist?

Yes.

Truth is alive and just as powerful as ever.

As a matter of fact the truth will not only give you direction, it will challenge you and push you, and drive you, and rescue you and transform every area of your life.

How do I know?

Because I have experienced it. Because I have studied it. I have tested it and I have witnessed it all over the world. I may not know much, but I do know this.

Jesus is the truth.

And if that is not enough, Jesus loves you, He died for you and He is coming again so that He can be with you forever.

That is as true as anything can be in all of reality.

“Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also. And where I go you know, and the way you know.”

Thomas said to Him, “Lord, we do not know where You are going, and how can we know the way?”

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me. - John 14:1-6 NKJV

Let’s address a few important things regarding the truth.

Sanctification

In John 17 we find Jesus praying. As Jesus prays for His disciples He asks the father to “Sanctify them by the truth;” Then Jesus adds “your word is truth.” (John 17:17) It is interesting that according to John 1 Jesus is the Word of God made flesh. So the word of God is the truth and necessary for our sanctification. This means the truth is not something you simply understand of accept but rather something you need to be exposed to daily. You need a personal relationship with Jesus and your regular interactions with Him slowly and continually set you apart unto Him according to His purpose for your life. So a personal relationship with Jesus, with the Word of God, changes who we are, shaping our character and every aspect of our life.

Freedom

One thing we really value in America is freedom. Jesus says that the truth sets us free.

Then Jesus said to those Jews who believed Him, “If you abide in My word, you are My disciples indeed. And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” - John 8:31-32 NKJV

According to Jesus the truth will set you free. But in order to know the truth you need to be a true disciple, and only those who abide, continue, remain, hold on to, live out, His word. Jesus sets you free, but you must have a personal ongoing relationship. I am not talking about brunch once a week or a call or quick message when trouble comes, but an ongoing healthy relationship. If you have a hard time thinking about having a relationship with truth, then think about having a relationship with Jesus, who loves you and wants to save you and bless you and develop you and use you in a mighty way. Stop thinking about truth as a purely intellectual venture. It must be a relational, living experience.

The Future

Many are anxious about the future. The truth can help you with that as well. Jesus said:

However, when He, the Spirit of truth, has come, He will guide you into all truth; for He will not speak on His own authority, but whatever He hears He will speak; and He will tell you things to come. - John 16:14 NKJV

There are things Jesus wants us to know, but we are not ready for it. However, the Holy Spirit is able to guide us into those things, He will guide us into all truth. All truth was revealed in Jesus but we are not able to grasp all of it on our own. We need the help of the Holy Spirit, and as He reveals to us a clearer understanding of who Jesus is, we will also understand what is about to happen. Our anxiety will melt away as we see the future in Jesus’ hands and how everything will be okay in the end.

Truth in action

John writes to us saying

My little children, let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth. - 1 John 3:18 NKJV

The truth should also shape our lives. Our walk with Jesus should not be about just spouting theological truths or religious dogma, but rather a practical approach to life. It is easy to talk love, but it is important to live it, to live out truth. If you wonder what that looks like it means we are called to live our lives as Jesus lived His.

Worship

Finally, Truth/Jesus, is an integral part of worship.

God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.” - John 4:24 NKJV

Sometimes we may be tempted to yield truth as a sword and attack others and I hope that realizing that Jesus is the embodiment of truth and being familiar with His example and how He lived His life will help us realize what worship ought to look like. I believe that keeping Jesus at the core of our worship, and being full of the Holy Spirit will allow us to experience true worship.

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lexiseigneur · 5 years

Text

Chapter eighteen: Truth

Ao3

The SUV disappeared inside a large building and Brevil wondered if this was the last time he would see the light of day, even if that light was dim and dusty. The black and red square symbol of the Partnership was nowhere to be seen and that only mildly intrigued the scientist. He did not need to be a genius to conclude that a secret execution facility would be kept discreet. They parked in what looked like a warehouse. Half a dozen men ran around the space, depositing items on the numerous shelves. An older man appeared to be melting metal in an oven and that gave Brevil pause. Then again he could not expect to understand everything that would be happening in there. They might be using that building for more than a single purpose.

The Strigoi by his side was the only bloodsucker present. All the others were humans and every single one looked like a thug. They sported comfortable and dark clothing but no Partnership uniforms. After a word from Augustin, a young man with a large scar across his face shoved a bundle of clothes in his arms. They smelled freshly washed. Then he was taken two levels up by Quinlan and quietly directed inside a small bedroom with its own personal bathroom. Behind him, the lock did not click. The scientist stood in the middle of the small spartan but clean room. His greying brows almost touched as he peered around. This was very strange.

After a very hot shower that he savored just as much as the sandwich, the scientist stared at the doorknob. He was quite positive that the door had not been locked by the Strigoi. Biting his lips, he twisted the brass handle, opened the door just a crack and observed. The corridor was empty and all he could see were other metal doors. He ventured out and when he passed another opened door he pushed the steel panel and looked. It was a bedroom with piles of books in a corner and an undone bed.

“Doctor…please follow me. We need to talk.”

The scientist startled and held his bony sternum. Suddenly weak, he leaned against the concrete wall to catch his breath. Arms crossed over his impressive chest, the Strigoi waited for him to regain some composure. With the coat gone, Brevil could tell he was not built like normal Strigoi. This one was muscular and did not suffer from ticks. There was diversity in all species so this did not particularly surprise him. He followed because he was well aware that there was no point arguing.

Down the flight of stairs, they arrived directly into a large open floor which was also sparsely furnished. Pushed in a corner, two tables were covered with tools as well as messes of Plexiglas and wire. At the very back just before a long bar made with dark wood, stood two people. One was the driver named Augustin and the other was a woman. Then she turned around to fully face Brevil and that was no woman. She had hair and it appeared real but the rest of her was clearly not human. The female Strigoi smiled and it seemed so genuine and welcoming that Brevil felt like crying. This was not the smile of a cruel person but she was not a person. Why would they torture him like this?

"Where am I? Why did you take me here?” he asked, tired of their games.

Her smile faded somewhat and she turned to the tall one. They stared at each other until Quinlan cleared his throat.

"Maybe we should have discussed this in the car," said Quinlan and the harshness of his expression mellowed slightly.

"Don't blame Q. Brevil here wouldn't have believed him. Or me. He looks at us like we gonna eat him,” added Augustin.

"Well, Dr. Brevil to make a long story short: you've been drafted into the Resistance," said the female Strigoi.

Brevil successfully repressed a derisive snort.

"Why would you fight your own kind?" he asked.

Quinlan grunted at those words.

"We are not Strigoi, doctor."

Did they think he was blind? Their skin was as white as a corpse’s, they had red flesh on their throats and the tall one did not even have eyebrows. They were Strigs alright.

Augustin looked at the only uncovered window then at his watch. Both Strigoi looked at him. The Hispanic man made big eyes, wriggled his eyebrows and pointed at the ceiling. He grinned maliciously. What the hell was going on?

“Is that really necessary?” asked Quinlan.

“No but it’ll go faster,” replied Augustin.

“Gus is right,” said the female Strigoi. “Let’s just go.”

The Strigoi grabbed their coats and all climbed the stairs to the corridor he had just left then into a large flat and from there up another stairwell. When the door opened revealing the roof of the building, Brevil understood. What a lackluster end, being hurled into the asphalt below. His body fought this idea and he attempted to return inside. Augustin caught his arm and dragged him after the two Strigoi. The light was getting brighter by the second. Both Strigoi put on sunglasses but did not seek additional protection or shelter. Immobile as the light shone on their white skin, the creatures stood unharmed.

"Why are we not burning, Dr. Brevil?” asked Quinlan.

He had no explanation but grimaced. It’s just a trick. Maybe they wore some protective gear on their skins? Taking his life would not be enough. They wanted to drive him insane first. The female Strigoi threw her head back and groaned. Then she took a small switchblade from her pocket. Brevil tensed. That was it. Because he had not swallowed their lies, they would just end him right there. The scientist could not see the advantage of stabbing him over pushing him off the roof but could he pretend to fully understand Strigoi motivations? She pulled her sleeve up and slashed her forearm deeply. Both she and her counterpart made a wry face. White blood dripped on the tar roof. And that was it, just blood. Not a single worm to be seen in the milky liquid or in the open flesh. That was not possible.

"What are you?" asked Brevil.

"We are Dhampir. We are not parasites like the Strigoi and we cannot infect humans,” said the female Strigoi with a strange sadness to her smooth voice. “Dr. Brevil, please believe me when I say that you are not in any danger with us.”

Next to him, Augustin nodded and gave him an intense look under dark brows. The Dhampir pulled hoods over their heads. Like the hopeless fool Brevil was, he started hoping she was not lying.

Brevil stared intently at their faces as they made their way back to the large room with the bar. It was true that he had never seen Strigoi with hair. Or with those strange stripes on their skins. For that matter, he had never seen Strigoi with hazel eyes. Were those more than just natural variations within a species?

“My name is Lexi. Please take a seat.”

He obeyed and she sat across the table. Quinlan left the room and that enabled him to relax a little. The tall one made him very nervous. Augustin brought paper and a pencil and placed them in front of the scientist. Brevil glanced at the blank page then at the two of them.

“What do you want me to do with this?”

The female Dhampir and Augustin exchanged looks.

“You deal with that. I’ve got other stuff to take care of,” said the human and he proceeded to also leave the room.

“Well, doctor, from what we gathered about you, you know how to access and use the ASTER, the satellite system which monitors active volcanoes around the world.”

Advanced Spaceborne Thermal Emission and Reflection Radiometer was indeed in place to monitor such volcanic activity. And he was more than just familiar with it, he had helped build it.

“Yes, I do.”

Why would those people care about that? It made absolutely no sense. His suspicions came back in full force and he squinted.

“We are still unsure what you will require to access that system. Please write that down.”

Brevil stared at the pencil but did not pick it up. His lips disappeared into a fine line. The Dhampir rolled her eyes but then she chuckled. Now that was a strange vision, such a creature laughing.

“You still do not believe that we only mean to help, do you?”

Lexi simpered from across the table. Brevil did not answer right away. Was she trying to manipulate him by adopting human mannerisms?

“Why do you need to access that system? It’s of no use to people like you.”

Weird inhuman things and a bunch of gang members.

“We want to stop the Strigoi invasion and we need to access that system to achieve that…”

“I don’t believe you,” interrupted the scientist.

His eyes went wide as he regretted those words. Her lips lifted, revealing sharp teeth and Brevil cowered in his chair. But she was ignoring him as she fumbled with her pocket, extracted a blue handkerchief and applied it to her cut.

“Rest, sleep and eat until we get the items from your list. Maybe then, you’ll be ready to hear the truth.”

The tall Dhampir came back with a suture kit. She joined him at the bar and Brevil observed discretely as he wrote a few items on the page. And as he observed he almost believed. Quinlan kissed Lexi on the forehead and she gave him a tender smile. Strigoi could not care for another the way they did.

Three days later, Brevil had barely left his bedroom. The scarred kid named Amir even brought him meals three times a day. Their conversations were just variations on a theme.

“There you go, Dr. B.. The guys are eating downstairs if you wanna join.”

“No, thank you. I’ll eat here.”

“No problem.”

The kid would shrug and leave without another word. That day when someone knocked outside of the usual meal times, Brevil opened the door reluctantly. He sighed in relief because even if it was not Amir, at least it was a human. He was large with a thick beard and a knitted cap.

“So we’ve got like a ton of equipment for you and I’ve been told you had to supervise the installation.”

“Huh?”

“A computer? Some satellite dishes? I don’t know what to do with all that so…”

Moved by curiosity, Brevil followed the man who called himself Gordo. Together they went to the roof and worked on installing the dishes. Everything conformed perfectly to the specifications he had written. This was his life's work and he was moved to the verge of tears when the first images appeared on the computer screen. Many were useless because of the dust contaminants in the atmosphere but some were clear enough to allow for regular monitoring. Familiar shapes of beloved mountains and craters made him forget for a short moment the chaos and insanity of the world.

The next morning Amir arrived with a small pile of toasts.

“Hey, you wanna take that downstairs?”

Amir already deposited the plate on the small desk and was walking out when Brevil answered.

“I’d like that.”

The young man turned around and broke into a wide grin. At the lowest level, almost all men and both Dhampir were gathered around several tables covered with modest amounts of food but more than Brevil had seen in more than a year. The female Dhampir held a pan above heating plates as Gordo stared down skeptically.

“See, you don’t need eggs or milk.”

She poured a pancake onto a plate and handed it to the large man. There was a hint of smugness on her face. The man raised a finger as he took the pancake.

“Well, we’ll see that after I’m done eating it.”

“If you don’t want it…” started Julio and he reached for the plate that the large man immediately raised above his head.

“Dude…you don’t take a man’s food.”

Quinlan stood by his companion and was slicing apples on a cutting board. He frowned but Brevil was certain he had not uttered a single word when Lexi swirled around to face him. She looked at the fruit and nodded. The corners of Quinlan’s lips slightly lifted and he continued his work.

“Hey! Dr. B. is with us today!” chanted Amir as they reached the group.

“Volcano man!” A dark-skinned called.

Brevil did not yet know this one and this sudden attention made him recoil. He took a seat next to Amir and observed silently as he ate his dry toast. Gus handed him a small tub of butter. He whispered some thanks, took a little to put on his bread then resumed eating.

“Would you like one, Dr. Brevil?” asked Lexi and she lifted the pan in his direction.

He hesitated far too long.

“I’ll take it if he doesn’t want it,” interjected Gordo.

“I do believe Dr. Brevil might need it more than you do, Gordo,” said Quinlan as he gathered the cubed apples into a bowl.

The man’s jaw fell open but under his beard, there was a grin. Gordo whispered to a very entertained Gus: “Did he just call me fat?” Gus replied by patting his friend’s rotund midsection. Amir grabbed Brevil’s plate and handed it to Lexi.

She deposited two golden pancakes on the white ceramic as well as some of the cubed apples. When she leaned across the table, Brevil did the same to grab the plate.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

Brevil did not remember the last time he had eaten something sweet. He almost wanted to cry after the first mouthful. He looked around the table and doubted the people gathered here had nefarious intentions. However, he also saw no way for this band of misfits to put a term to the Strigoi invasion.

After that day, Brevil ventured more often out of his bedroom and usually sat at the bar to work on his computer and listen to the various conversations. One afternoon as he was coming down the stairs, he hesitated. There was a commotion in the communal space and he was uncertain he wanted to be a part of it.

“Hey, you kinda in the way.”

Marcus and Gordo were coming down the stairs behind him. There were sudden shouts such as the kind one would expect during a sporting event.

“Arg! We’re missing everything,” said the large man.

He took Brevil by the elbow and pulled him along as they rushed down the stairs. Amir and Raul stood by the window and were cheering at Quinlan and Lexi who faced each other in the middle of the room. Both were out of breath.

“Who’ve got the stuff?” asked Marcus and Amir nodded.

“You?” he replied

“Yeah, five pieces,” said Gordo.

The men emptied their pockets and deposited candy and chocolates on the window seal. Then as the Dhampir started moving, the scientist completely ignored his fellow humans. White flashes pierced the air as Lexi unleashed a wave of punches toward Quinlan who expertly avoided them but had to raise a defensive arm to block the last one. Brevil was unsure what happened next but suddenly, her small figure was on Quinlan’s back as she attempted to throttle him. It was bizarre, watching them grin through all those acts of violence.

Five minutes later, Lexi was pinned on the floor as Quinlan kneeled on her back. She growled loudly then ceased her struggle. Gordo swore and Amir cackled and clapped enthusiastically. Raul shook his head and reached for a chocolate bar. Amir slapped his hand away.

“If you’re too good for bets, you’re too good for chocolate,” he said and pocketed his spoils.

“You’re such a dick,” said Raul and he started across the room toward the table covered with Plexiglas and wires.

“Lex! The fuck!” shouted Gordo.

“First of, screw you. Second, don’t you have deliveries to make?” she retorted as she jumped to her feet.

Gordo’s face fell, he looked at his watch and ran to the stairs. Marcus snorted then he slapped his forehead and rushed after Gordo as Gus came up the stairs. The Hispanic man looked at his running associates and sighed.

“I swear those two are never on time. Q! Let’s go! It’ll take long enough as it is to get to the airport.”

The Dhampir nodded exchanged a soft look with his companion. Just like that, all the violence was gone. Brevil had never seen Strigoi moving that way but what could two of them do against millions?

Days later, Raul paced nervously as there was a lot of talk about “collecting heads” around the bar. Sitting there at his computer, Brevil was quite convinced that they were talking about others just like him. And as much as he appreciated some of the men there, he was quite excited at the prospect of meeting more survivors. He had crossed path with a few, some month prior when the Librarian had helped him. But since then, nothing. In fact, he had been quite lonely.

It took some time for Brevil to notice the absence of Lexi and Raul. They were habitual fixtures of the communal room, constantly busy with power tools in a corner. Quinlan and Gus were still present, and the former paced around the room. Augustin was going through a stack of papers while sitting at the other end of the bar. The Dhampir ran to the window in a blur and stood in the waning light.

“Something happened?” asked Gus.

“No...I do not think so. They are so far that I cannot hear her thoughts.”

Brevil stopped mid-keystroke. Hear her what? Quinlan made a strange clicking sound that gave goosebumps to the scientist.

“I believe I should have gone with them.”

Gus shook his head.

“We’ve got shit to do. The guys at the restaurant said Eichhorst would show up today. That German dick is gonna be so pissed when he realizes we found the Master ‘cause we followed him.”

Brevil shook his head. The words meant nothing to him. Gus looked at his watch. The sun had set and darkness was descending on the city.

Then they too had gone, leaving Brevil with his work and a bored Amir keeping guard while listening to what sounded like the audiobook of a cheesy romance novel. When the next chapter described the main protagonists in the throes of passion, the young man screamed "Freaking finally!" and increased the volume. The scientist stared at his screen and tried not to smile too widely. At dinner, they all ate at their own post. Beside Amir still listening to his book, the others appeared tense. When Amir’s radio beeped and Gus' voice asked him to open the gate, some visibly relaxed. The Dhampir and his human associate arrived and the men gathered around them.

"So? Where is the Master?" asked Arturo.

"Central Park. At the castle. We saw him. Even looks like he has a human pet there."

“A human pet?" said one of Arturo’s brothers. Brevil was unsure which one.

"A human boy who resides in the castle. The only human there. Any news?" said Quinlan.

"No phone calls or anything. But I guess we can start monitoring the news as well,” said Miguel with a dark expression.

In the late morning the next day, the Partnership news described how terrorists were a threat to the equilibrium. Harming Strigoi did not help humans, quite the contrary, droned on a perfectly groomed blonde woman. It made Brevil sick to look at this propaganda. It also made him sick when on the screen, a group of three humans was ushered in a police station. They would be executed but Brevil knew the other Dhampir was responsible.

��They did it then, they killed so many Strigs the Partnership couldn’t bury the story.”

"Why are you doing this if that means more humans have to die?" he asked Gus who muted the sound.

"You ready to hear the truth? Lexi ain't here to cut her arm off so you believe us."

This quip made the Dhampir growl lowly.

"Just tell me."

Both him and Quinlan spoke. The Strigoi were only organized because they were like ants. One was the center of their collective mind, like a queen, and if that one died, they would also die. A single Strigoi needed to die and humanity would be saved. They even had a plan and as they spoke yet another part of it was coming to completion. It sounded like a reachable goal Suddenly, this group of misfits did not appear like a bunch of deluded albeit well-intentioned ideologists. However, it was quite clear that for Gus, killing the Master justified any action they took. There was no remorse on his surprisingly young face. The Dhampir at that point remained quiet. He appeared to be daydreaming and that filled Brevil with outrage.

"You don't care those people will die because of you?" he asked Quinlan directly.

He took a step back when the cool eyes focused on him.

"If it were necessary to slay the beast, I would kill every single human in New York."

Quinlan looked away again.

"But rest assured that I would not take from them what I am not willing to give up myself."

With his arms crossed he stared out the window and waited.

"What is he talking about?" asked Brevil to Gus.

"He means they both gonna die with the rest of them. They all connected to the Master and when he blows..."

Brevil grimaced. In disgust at the thought of yet more deaths, and at the thought that the Dhampir he despised was ready to give his life. Brevil doubted he could walk into battle when victory was synonym with oblivion. The fact that such a callous creature had the moral high ground was deeply unsettling.

Later that day, there was no news of Lexi or Raul. Quinlan paced the room with increasing agitation. Gus who had napped on the couch woke to a snarl coming from the Dhampir. Brevil startled at the wild noise. The Dhampir was so agitated, Brevil even avoided looking in his direction. It felt foolish to attract his attention at this very moment.

"I still cannot hear her. They should be close enough now."

Gus shook his head.

"Can you tell if they’re hurt or something?”

"No...I am unsure."

"Crap happens out there. Could be as simple as a flat tire."

"I can find her. With the Bond"

The Hispanic man jumped to his feet and raised his hands in a calming gesture.

"Yeah, she told me you might try that if something came up. She also said that if you do that the Master will find your ass and send an army."

"I can leave this place and do it outside New York."

"That's not the point. She doesn’t want you to try."

Quinlan scowled and remained quiet. The Dhampir ceased this constant pacing but glanced toward his coat and sword very often. Although Brevil disliked this one and his cold manners, he hoped Lexi and Raul were alright. Both because he now understood the importance of their mission but also because he quite liked them. As he also waited, Brevil bit through all ten of his nails.

One hour later the Dhampir gasped and rushed to the window. A faint smile spread on his discolored lips.

"Sup Q?" Yelled Gus from the bar where he had put a call on hold.

"They are coming back. They are both safe."

He closed his eyes and frowned.

"They had to hide most of the day."

Then another smile wider this time. Whatever the Dhampir was now hearing, he kept to himself.

Another hour later when the SUV was buzzed in and Lexi burst in the room, Quinlan scooped her up and with her thighs tightly pressed around his hips, she kissed the top of his bald head. Gus welcomed his cousin with much less hugging.

"You got them?"

"Yeah, we cleared three small nests. Man...it was fucked."

Then Arturo and his brothers arrived, wearing thick gloves at they carried barrels into the room. They all had revolted expressions and since Brevil was aware of what the barrels contained, he too grimaced.

"We know where the Master is in New York," Gus said to both Raul and Lexi.

"Yes, Quinlan told us. The tree cover in the park will have less interference than buildings. The devices can be ready in a few days. Then all we need is..."

All eyes present turned to Brevil who blushed violently. The only thing missing was the location of the explosion that would kill the Master. And it was his job to find out. Maybe hearing the truth had not been such a good idea. His frail shoulders were crushed under the weight of that crucial mission.

#the strain #the strain fanfic #the strain fanfiction #the strain fx #quinlan #mr.quinlan #quintus sertorius

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