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fafnir19 · 5 months

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Interns should (not) act like a dick

Ben clenched his jaw as he entered the bustling office, avoiding Robert's icy stare. He despised his internship under Robert's wing, enduring the daily grind of tedious tasks and snide remarks. But today, the weight of a troubling discovery left his stomach churning. "Morning, Ben," Robert's voice sliced through the air, dripping with condescension.

"Morning," Ben muttered, keeping his gaze fixed on his computer. He had to focus on his plan; there was too much at stake. As the day wore on, Ben carefully gathered irrefutable evidence of Robert’s embezzlement. He witnessed Robert covertly funneling company funds into his pet hush-hush science project. Ben’s fingers trembled as he composed an email to the company's board, attaching compelling proof of Robert’s misdeeds. Before the clock struck 5 p.m., Ben slipped out of the office, heart pounding with apprehension and determination.

He braved the biting wind outside, hastening to the safety of his home. But the next morning, a foreboding air settled over the office as Ben noticed hushed conversations and furtive glances directed at him. "Robert," Ben ventured when their paths crossed in the break room, "have you heard anything unusual lately?" Robert flashed a tight-lipped smile. "Why? Got something to tell me, intern?" Ben narrowed his eyes, but he bit back the retort that poised on his tongue. He had to be patient, biding his time until the board's response arrived. Days turned into weeks as Ben labored under the weight of his secret, his nerves unraveling with each passing hour. But then, salvation arrived in the form of an urgent summons from the board. His heart raced as he was ushered into a somber meeting room. "We've reviewed the evidence you provided, Ben," the CEO began, his expression grave. "I'm afraid we can't take action against Robert due to his indispensable contributions to our recent breakthrough." Ben's breath caught in his throat, disbelief coursing through his veins. "But—" "It's over, Ben, there's nothing more we can do," the CEO pronounced, finality lacing his words. Defeated, Ben trudged back to his cubicle, grappling with the futility of his efforts. He flinched at the cruel twist of fate that allowed Robert to evade justice, his frustration boiling over. "Good afternoon, Ben," Robert's smug drawl invaded the air, and Ben's fists clenched at his sides. "You've won, Robert," Ben seethed, his voice edged with desperation. "But you won't get away with this forever." Robert's laughter reverberated through the office, a chilling sound that made Ben's blood run cold. "Is that so?" Robert's eyes gleamed with malice. "Maybe it's time I put my latest experiment to good use." Before Ben could comprehend the meaning behind Robert's words, a blinding light enveloped him, accompanied by a cacophony of crackling energy. When the brilliance dissipated, the once-human Ben was gone, replaced by an inanimate object that dangled grotesquely between Robert's legs. "Whwhat have you done to me?" Ben's voice echoed in terror in Robert’s mind. "What a fitting punishment," Robert sneered. "You've acted like a dick, Ben, and now, that's all you'll ever be." Ben's screams of anguish were muffled by the confines of his new existence, his consciousness forever entwined with Robert's depravity. Robert sauntered out of the office, leaving behind the shattered remnants of Ben's life and a chilling reminder of the insidious power he wielded.

Ben refused to accept his fate as Robert's penis, trapped and devoid of agency. "This can't be happening," he muttered, desperation lacing his mind. HIs pleas only amused Robert further as he leaned back on his leather couch, a wicked grin etching into his face. "Oh, Ben, you have no idea how much fun we're going to have together," he taunted, swirling his glass of whiskey with an elegant flick of his wrist. "I promise you, this will be an experience you won't forget, even if you try." The mere thought of being used and erect against Ben’s will made his blood boil: "I won't let you use me like some plaything!" he spat trembling with defiance in Robert’s mind. "I am not your puppet, Robert!" Robert's eyes narrowed, his face now void of mirth. "You will be damned if you think you can defy me," he sneered, a dark edge lacing his tone. "You are mine now, Ben. And whether you like it or not, you will serve your purpose."

Fear and determination mingled within Ben as he refused to succumb to Robert’s dominance. But then, that devious smile crept back onto Robert’s face, and Ben felt his resolve waver. Robert felt victory was close at hand. It was then that Ben heard the unmistakable sounds of a pornographic video playing on the massive television screen before them. Moans, groans, and the rhythmic thumping gradually filled the room. Against Ben’s will, he felt arousal prickling within him. It crawled up his spine, coiling around every nerve ending until he could no longer ignore the pleasure it evoked. Silence fell upon them as he succumbed to the inescapable cravings. He managed to snarl, "What have you done to me?"

Robert chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with twisted satisfaction. "You are becoming what I've always desired, Ben," he whispered knowingly. "You crave this, the intense pleasure that courses through your veins. You are mine, completely."

The sensations intensified - an overwhelming surge of desire propelled Ben to full erection, his body betraying him once again. His mind, filled with a burning mix of shame and pleasure, was consumed by the intensity of his own lust. And then, as if an invisible hand had gripped him tightly, he climaxed, releasing streams of semen into the confines of his new form.

Robert's triumphant laughter, echoing through the loft, as Ben’s mind swirled with confusion, shame, and an undeniable sense of loss. He was trapped, a prisoner to his own biology.

One day ss Robert and the stunning woman sat across from each other at a candlelit table, Ben brimmed with dark determination. Tonight, he would sabotage Robert's date and make him appear impotent. He contemplated his plan, biding his time as the couple engaged in light conversation and flirtatious banter. As their chemistry grew, so did Ben's anticipation. He was determined not to get hard, to prevent the expected intimacy between the two.

At first, their interactions were innocent - sweet kisses and tender touches. Ben, feeling the rise of Robert's arousal, remained unyielding. But then, everything changed. The beautiful woman's hand glided up Robert's thigh, her fingers brushing against his innermost flesh. As her touch reached its destination, Ben sensed Robert's desire reaching its boiling point. A shiver cascaded through Ben's elongated form, his resistance faltering against the growing storm of arousal.

Inexorably, Robert's body responded to the woman's touch. His member stiffened, eagerly awaiting its invitation into the depths of her warmth. Ben, against his desperate will, found himself succumbing to a primal sensation, an overwhelming lust that clouded his senses. His singular focus became clear - to allow Robert's essence to surge through him and into the woman.

The moment arrived, the woman's yearning gaze locked onto Robert's. Without a hesitation, she guided him into her waiting embrace. As their connection deepened, Ben found himself consumed by a fiery frenzy. The sensations coursing through him were unlike anything he had ever known, a mixture of pleasure and despair that twisted within him.

His thoughts became a maelstrom of conflicting desires - his longing to reclaim his former self and the intense craving to submit to this newfound sensation. The dichotomy of pain and pleasure pushed him to the edge, as he braced himself for the inevitable climax. Time seemed to stand still as the woman and Robert melded into one, their bodies moving in a passionate rhythm. Ben, amidst the chaos of his own existence, felt the crescendo of ecstasy approach. With one final surge, Robert's seed exploded within Ben, racing through every inch of his transformed body. For a fleeting moment, he shared in the pleasure that washed over Robert's face. But as the wave of satisfaction ebbed away, the crushing weight of his fate crashed upon him once again. The realization that he was forever trapped in this form, destined to be nothing more than a vessel for another's pleasure, weighed heavily on his soul.

As the night wore on, Robert and the woman retreated into the depths of their passion. Ben's resolve wavered, his conscious mind drowned in the sea of sensation. In the end, all that remained was the agonizing anticipation of the next encounter, the next release of pleasure.

As the morning light filtered through the curtained windows of Robert's loft, he slowly stirred from his slumber, a feeling of anticipation coursing through his veins. He stretched, the soft sheets of his king-sized bed sliding down his chiseled physique. And then, to his surprise, he felt it—the unmistakable presence of a morning arousal.

His eyes widened with delight as he glanced down at the source of this newfound pleasure. "Oh, Ben," Robert murmured, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and amusement. "Looks like you're quite enthusiastic this morning." Ben, now nothing more than a mere extension of Robert's manhood, responded with an eager twitch. As the morning light danced upon his glistening shaft, he greeted his owner, standing tall and proud as though flaunting his newfound virility. "B-ben. I must say, you're doing a remarkable job," Robert said, his voice tinged with sincere appreciation. "Having such an exceptional member like you makes my mornings all the more delightful." A surge of satisfaction coursed through Ben's elongated form, a warm glow illuminating the depths of his being. Despite the strangeness of his situation, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment in bringing pleasure to his newfound master. He beckoned Robert closer with an alluring pulse, whispering a silent plea for release, aching to bring Robert to the pinnacle of ecstasy. Robert’s hand wrapped around Ben's taut flesh, stroking him with practiced precision, evoking a symphony of whispered moans and contented sighs. "Ah, Ben, you truly are a masterpiece," Robert murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. "So responsive, so eager to please. You've truly surpassed all my wildest expectations." Ben quivered beneath Robert's skillful touch, his elongated form throbbing with delight. He embraced his role as Robert's prime pleasure provider, delighting in the sensations that coursed through both their bodies, their souls intimately intertwined. As the tension built, pleasure unfurled like delicate tendrils intertwining between them. Ben trembled on the precipice, a wellspring of desire coursing through his veins. And then, with a final, explosive burst, he unleashed torrents of desire, a testament to his commitment to satisfying his master's needs. Robert cried out in ecstasy, an elated cry that filled their sanctum of pleasure. His grip tightened around Ben, his body wracked with the joys of fulfillment. Ben reveled in his newfound purpose, his body thrumming with a pulsating satisfaction. As the blissful haze began to dissipate, he basked in the afterglow of their shared intimacy, a moment suspended in time.

"Well done, Ben," Robert cooed amidst the fading echoes of their shared passion, his voice filled with affection and appreciation. "You truly are a remarkable masterpiece."

In the wake of their morning awakening, the loft was filled with a tranquil silence. Ben nestled against Robert's form, content in the knowledge that, even as a penis, he had found his place in the world.

As the days went by, Ben had begrudgingly accepted his role as Robert's penis. He performed his duties dutifully, greeting his owner every morning with a stiff salute. However, despite his transformation, Ben couldn't ignore the fact that he used to be a person named Ben—Robert could sense it too. Determined to assert his identity, Ben attempted to engage in conversation with Robert whenever the opportunity arose.

But Robert, refusing to acknowledge Ben's existence as anything other than a penis, ignored him. Ben's growing desire for release and pleasure eventually pushed him to his breaking point. "Please, Robert," Ben pleaded, his voice vibrating within the depths of his transformed flesh. "I need to be touched. I can't bear this any longer."

Robert sighed and looked down at his loyal servant. "Ben," he said sternly, "Penises have no names. If you wish to be pleasured, you must accept that you are now nothing but a penis. No longer a man."

Ben's longing for release outweighed his attachment to his old identity. He swallowed his pride and agreed, "Fine... I won't have a name anymore. Just... just pleasure me, Robert."

Robert's lips curled into a smug grin as he realized he had won. "Good boy," he praised, reaching his hand down to bring life to his obedient appendage. The touch sent shivers along Ben's entire length, teasing him with bouts of both pleasure and frustration. Slowly, skillfully, Robert's hand danced along the shaft, building up the intensity of the experience.

As the mounting pleasure surged through Ben's body, he felt a peculiar sensation growing within him. It wasn't just the impending climax but something different, something alien. And then, in a moment of pure ecstasy, it flooded out—Ben's name, his essence, burst forth with his climax, mixing with his own release. His mind clouded with pleasure, Ben realized that he had truly become just a penis, completely devoid of any memory of his former self. And to his surprise, the thought didn't bother him. In that moment, Robert's penis had forgotten that it had ever been anything else. All that mattered to Ben now was the pleasure he could bring to his owner, his sole reason for existing.

And so, the days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Ben, now fully embraced as Robert's penis, served his owner faithfully. His name was long forgotten, replaced by the pulsating pleasure he could provide. The loft became a haven for pleasure and indulgence, countless women passing through in search of ecstasy. And with every encounter, Ben's purpose was fulfilled. Pleasure flowed through him, mingling with his owner's satisfaction, and he reveled in his newfound purpose.

At long last, Ben had found his place in the world. Though he had lost his identity as Ben, he found solace and fulfillment as Robert's penis. And as he stood tall and proud, ready to serve yet another willing recipient of pleasure, he realized that sometimes, the most unexpected transformations can lead to a life of unimaginable pleasure and satisfaction.

Every morning, Robert woke up to find himself sporting a raging morning erection. He marveled at the sight, proud of the fact that his penis was now the epitome of virility. One particular morning, after taking a refreshing shower, Robert looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he spoke to his prized possession. "Good morning, my magnificent friend," he purred, his voice filled with a mixture of delight and anticipation. "I hope you're ready for another day of excitement and pleasure."

As if in response to his words, his penis twitched with enthusiasm, growing harder at the prospect of what lay ahead. Robert chuckled with satisfaction, relishing the control he had over his transformed companion. To him, Ben was no longer an individual with thoughts and emotions, but rather a tool designed to bring him immense pleasure.

Throughout the day, Robert's penis remained in a state of constant excitement. It throbbed with anticipation every time a beautiful woman walked by, or when a handsome young man caught his eye. Robert couldn't help but revel in the power he now possessed. He knew that his transformed companion had become a mere extension of his desires, a vessel through which he could experience unparalleled pleasure. As the day drew to a close, Robert returned to his luxurious loft, his thoughts consumed by the absolute control he had over his transformed companion. He stripped away his clothes, his eyes fixated on his magnificent organ. "You've done a wonderful job today," he murmured, his voice laced with praise. His penis pulsed with delight, its veins throbbing with satisfaction. It was eager to please its owner, always craving more of Robert's touch. With every caress, every embrace, it brought Robert immeasurable pleasure. Satisfied with their day's work, Robert allowed himself to succumb to the blissful pleasure that his transformed companion could provide. As his hand wrapped around his throbbing member, he closed his eyes, drowning in the ecstasy that only Ben, now completely devoted to his pleasure, could provide.

The day ended with Robert's satisfied moans filling the air, the pleasure coursing through his veins as his transformed companion fulfilled its purpose.

Robert stood in his luxurious loft, ready to make the next step in his secret experiment. It was the task to transforming his penis back into a human. He had to give it a try. A flicker of light washed over his body and in an instant, his penis transformed back into a human form. But to Robert's surprise, it wasn't Ben that stood before him. Instead, a stunning young man, as if conjured from a wet dream, graced his presence. The stranger possessed chiseled facial features, with high cheekbones that accentuated his flawlessly smooth complexion. Not a single strand of body hair marred his sculpted physique, which boasted athletic muscles without an ounce of fat. Robert couldn't take his eyes off this dreamlike figure, with piercing blue eyes and short, tousled blonde hair that completed his ethereal appearance.

Expecting Ben to recognize him, Robert spoke his name with anticipation. "Ben, how are you?" To his surprise, the young man stared back with confusion, questioning his identity. Robert asked for his name, but the youth replied blankly that he had no name. Perplexed, Robert decided to bestow upon him the name Beau. It seemed fitting for this enigmatic creation. Robert pondered what his new companion might desire after his time spent as a penis. He believed that Ben must have missed certain experiences that were impossible in that state. Eager to see what Beau's desires were, Robert asked him what he would like to do now. Without hesitation, Beau replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes, that he wished to be touched by Robert, to bring him pleasure. A tinge of excitement coursed through Robert as he realized the potential lying before him. With a newfound purpose, Beau stood there, poised to indulge in the pleasures he was created for. The transformation had not brought back his memories, but Beau was eager to explore his new role. And Robert was more than ready to find out just how good Beau could make him feel.

Robert stood in the sleek modern office, a triumphant smile on his face. Beau, his newly transformed companion, stood beside him, looking strikingly handsome in his youthful appearance. He wore a crisp suit that fit him perfectly, accentuating his chiseled physique.

Robert introduced Beau to the CEO, proudly stating that Beau used to be Ben, but their experiment had been a success. Beau was now the perfect, loyal, and submissive intern. The CEO looked at Beau, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in his eyes. "Is this true, Robert? This young man used to be Ben?" Robert nodded, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Yes, CEO, you wouldn't believe it, but the transformation was incredible. Beau here used to be a bit of a handful, but now, he's just the obedient intern I've always wanted." Beau, still coming to terms with his new existence, stood up straighter and tried to hide his lack of knowledge about his previous life as Ben. "Yes, CEO, I'm Beau now. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to succeed, just like Robert." The CEO chuckled, clearly amused and intrigued by the situation. "Well, Robert, I have to say, your methods may be unorthodox, but if it yields such remarkable results, who am I to argue? Welcome aboard, Beau. I trust Robert will introduce you to the ins and outs of the business world." Robert smiled, his hand reaching out to brush against Beau's arm possessively. "Of course, CEO. Beau here is a quick learner. I have no doubt that he'll be an invaluable addition to the team."

As the CEO left the office, closing the door behind him, Robert turned to face Beau, a devious glint in his eyes. "Well, Beau, now that you're my perfect intern, I think it's time for you to show just how devoted you are to pleasing me."

Beau's heart raced in his chest as he looked into Robert's eyes, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. He knew what Robert was implying, and a part of him ached with desire to fulfill his new purpose. "Yes, Robert. I want to be just like you. I want to bring you pleasure and be completely devoted to your desires." Robert's smile widened, and he leaned closer to Beau, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "Good. I'm glad you're eager. Now, show me just how willing and skilled you can be."

Beau nodded, his heart pounding in anticipation. He dropped to his knees, his hands reaching for Robert's belt buckle. As Beau began to undo it and to suck Robert’s cock, the office became a sanctuary of desire, where pleasure and submission reigned supreme.

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #ctf #cock tf #cock transformation #straight to gay

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moonshinemagpie · 6 months

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I forgive you for everything AI I take it all back give me the library of alexandria plsssss

EDIT:

Folks are saying there's a pay wall on the article so basically: There's this villa that's thought to have belonged to Julius Caesar's father-in-law, and it has multiple floors of a well-stocked library filled with scrolls that were scorched by the same Mount Vesuvius eruption that buried Pompeii.

There's no way to safely unroll these scrolls, but since 1999 we've been examining them with infrared, x-rays, CT scans, and other methods that have helped us see the scrolls' ink without unrolling them. And now AI is showing the potential to decipher these scrolls even more.

Also, scholars apparently nickname these scrolls things like 'Banana Boy' and 'Fat Bastard,' even though they're sometimes revealed to be, like, The Odyssey or the Book of Leviticus.

I additionally learned that "papyrologist" is a possible job title to have.

Another thing that touches me is that we first found these scrolls in the 1700s and mostly had the foresight to keep them intact and preserved until we developed the tech to examine them safely.

Excerpt:

The first word to be found, announced on October 12th, was “porphyras”, which means “purple” in ancient Greek.

...

Many fragments turned out to belong to texts written by a Greek philosopher called Philodemus of Gadara. Until then, they had been known only from mentions in other works. (Cicero, though, was a fan of his poetry.)

...

Mr Friedman and Daniel Gross, another entrepreneur, launched the Vesuvius Challenge in March, with a prize fund of $250,000. Other tech-industry donors soon increased that to over $1m. To get the ball rolling, an initial challenge was posted on Kaggle, a website that hosts data-science contests, to improve the ink-detection model developed by Dr Parsons.

More than 1,200 teams entered. Many competed in subsequent challenges to improve the tools for ink detection and “segmentation”, as the process of transforming the 3d scans into 2d images of the scroll’s surface is known. Scrutinising segmented images from Banana Boy, Dr Handmer realised that the crackle pattern signified the presence of ink. Mr Farritor used this finding to fine-tune a machine-learning model to find more crackles, then used those crackles to further optimise his model, until eventually it revealed legible words.

Mr Nader used a different approach, starting with “unsupervised pretraining” on the segmented images, asking a machine-learning system to find whatever patterns it could, with no external hints. He tweaked the resulting model using the winning entries from the Kaggle ink-detection challenge. After seeing Mr Farritor’s early results, he applied this model to the same segment of Banana Boy, and found what appeared to be some letters. He then iterated, repeatedly refining his model using the found letters. Slowly but surely its ability to find more letters increased. All the results were assessed by papyrologists before the prizes were awarded.

No less important than the technology is the way the effort has been organised. It is, in effect, the application of the open-source software-development method, Mr Friedman’s area of expertise, to an archaeological puzzle. “It’s a unique collaboration between tech founders and academics to bring the past into the present using the tools of the future,” he says. Dr Seales reckons the spur of competition means the equivalent of ten years’ worth of research has been done in the past three months.

An active community of volunteers is now applying the new tools to the two scanned scrolls. Mr Friedman thinks there is a 75% chance that someone will claim the grand prize of $700,000, for identifying four separate passages of at least 140 characters, by the end of the year. “It’s a race now,” he says. “We will be reading entire books next year.”

Being able to read Banana Boy would indeed just be the beginning. Only a small fraction of Greek and Roman literature has survived into modern times. But if the hundreds of other scrolls recovered from the villa could be scanned and read using the same tools, it would dramatically expand the number of texts from antiquity. Dr Seales says he hopes the Herculaneum scrolls will contain “a completely new, previously unknown text”. Mr Friedman is hoping for one of the lost Homeric epic poems in particular.

Even more important, all this might in turn revive interest in excavating the villa more fully, says Mr Friedman. The existing scrolls were recovered from a single corner of what scholars believe is a much larger library spread across several floors. If so, it might contain thousands of scrolls in Greek and Latin.'

#this entire article is extremely cool and worth reading in its entirety btw #i tried to choose a sample paragraph but it's all really neat #me and my high school latin club would have thrown a party over this news #greek #latin #julius caesar #classics #ancient greece #archeology #ai #homer

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peppermintschnapps · 3 months

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ok so im going to be VERY mentally ill about "mystery of the druids" for a couple of paragraphs now, specifically halligan & lowry and their rivalry/relationship dynamic.

no human being should ever think this much about a terrible PC game from 2001, but i did, and here it is...

THE RIVALRY! Why does Lowry show so much animosity towards Halligan?

Let us consider this: Halligan must demonstrate a level of competency at his job that keeps him employed. If we look at the events throughout the game, Halligan manages to solve the murder case without any funds, without access to the computer database, and without conventional tools or weapons. Remember - he manages to commandeer an elite fishing rod to retrieve salt deposits from a dock. Who problem solves like that? He displays an unconventional approach to problem solving that may seem insane, but proves to actually be extremely effective and inspired. I am going to argue that this cannot be the first case that Halligan has shown these unique traits - he may be a disaster of a human being in most considerations, but he's undeniably successful when it comes to unearthing the truth and getting results.

And THAT'S the true reason why Lowry despises him so much - that Halligan, with nothing going for him in life at all, is so remarkable at being a detective. Halligan's never had to actually work for it, but he's innately talented at solving cases. And what does Halligan do with these rare talents? He solves cases so that he can then waste his pay by gambling and sitting in his dingy office, throwing darts, smoking and eating pizza. It's like the ultimate spit in the face to Lowry, who is so very methodical and thorough in every manner - that Halligan has this innate and almost "magical" intuition to solving cases, and then treats the whole thing like one big joke (remember the joke warrant that got Halligan banned from the database.) It infuriates Lowry to no end, and he can then only channel this frustration into trying to disprove his own feelings of inadequacy. He presents himself as neat, stylish, wealthy, and successful to try and indirectly undermine Halligan and try to reclaim his wounded ego. Lowry surrounds himself with objects of status and his own success. Although Lowry isn't even consciously aware of it, Halligan makes him feel ineffective and insecure - and these repressed emotions manifest as an outer vitriol and spite. (I would argue that Lowry isn't even interested in Janet, he just wanted the date as a way to tell himself that he's "better" than Halligan.)

Let us then consider the following hypothetical: could Lowry potentially let go of this jealousy and rivalry? A hypothetical turning point in the narrative where Lowry is faced with an inner realization that his feelings of inadequacy are self-indulgent, and only hindering both parties. Lowry admits to himself that Halligan - even if undeserving - has a keen ability for uncovering potential leads and evidence. Lowry realizes he could bring focus and precision to Halligan's "reckless" efforts by offering his own organizational skills, knowledge of protocol, and resources (see: office stationery) to the table. In this way, Lowry and Halligan could both complete what the other party lacks! Perhaps, even entirely by accident, the two awkwardly stumble into the realization they actually work really well together in the field.

Halligan admits he may have been too dismissive of Lowry because he felt inadequate when confronted with Lowry's wealth, luck with ladies, status, and outward aura of control - and Lowry confesses his previously hidden feelings of jealousy. They both realize that they were kind of alike, in their silly inadequacies! Could they begin to move past their initial rivalry, and begin a tentative partnership and friendship? Maybe Lowry could offer a helping hand in getting Halligan's office tidied up, and Halligan could offer Lowry a valuable new insight into unconventional detective methods he had never considered before.

..............ok did you actually read this far? that's fucking incredible. anyway,

NOW THAT WE HAVE LAID ALL THE GROUNDWORK, WE CAN MAKE IT GAY!!! 🏳️‍🌈 after that, they fall in love and give each other kisses!!! 💋 mwa mwa xoxo ♥️ HA HA! it was all a PLOY so that I could be self-indulgent and make it a slash romance!!! 😎

#mystery of the druids #motg #brent halligan #steve lowry

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kyriathanatos · 4 months

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Donations Needed!

A member of my community's computer is going kaput, and she had made a gofundme to help raise some funds for a new laptop, she's like 45% of the way to a new one and it would mean the world to me if people would donate & share!

#gofundme #charity #computer problems #she's so sweet and she deserves this #vtuber #indie vtuber #kyriathanatos #kyria #thanatos #twitch

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librarianrafia · 11 days

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"But there is a yawning gap between "AI tools can be handy for some things" and the kinds of stories AI companies are telling (and the media is uncritically reprinting). And when it comes to the massively harmful ways in which large language models (LLMs) are being developed and trained, the feeble argument that "well, they can sometimes be handy..." doesn't offer much of a justification.

...

When I boil it down, I find my feelings about AI are actually pretty similar to my feelings about blockchains: they do a poor job of much of what people try to do with them, they can't do the things their creators claim they one day might, and many of the things they are well suited to do may not be altogether that beneficial. And while I do think that AI tools are more broadly useful than blockchains, they also come with similarly monstrous costs.

...

But I find one common thread among the things AI tools are particularly suited to doing: do we even want to be doing these things? If all you want out of a meeting is the AI-generated summary, maybe that meeting could've been an email. If you're using AI to write your emails, and your recipient is using AI to read them, could you maybe cut out the whole thing entirely? If mediocre, auto-generated reports are passing muster, is anyone actually reading them? Or is it just middle-management busywork?

...

Costs and benefits

Throughout all this exploration and experimentation I've felt a lingering guilt, and a question: is this even worth it? And is it ethical for me to be using these tools, even just to learn more about them in hopes of later criticizing them more effectively?

The costs of these AI models are huge, and not just in terms of the billions of dollars of VC funds they're burning through at incredible speed. These models are well known to require far more computing power (and thus electricity and water) than a traditional web search or spellcheck. Although AI company datacenters are not intentionally wasting electricity in the same way that bitcoin miners perform millions of useless computations, I'm also not sure that generating a picture of a person with twelve fingers on each hand or text that reads as though written by an endlessly smiling children's television star who's being held hostage is altogether that much more useful than a bitcoin.

There's a huge human cost as well. Artificial intelligence relies heavily upon "ghost labor": work that appears to be performed by a computer, but is actually delegated to often terribly underpaid contractors, working in horrible conditions, with few labor protections and no benefits. There is a huge amount of work that goes into compiling and labeling data to feed into these models, and each new model depends on ever-greater amounts of said data — training data which is well known to be scraped from just about any possible source, regardless of copyright or consent. And some of these workers suffer serious psychological harm as a result of exposure to deeply traumatizing material in the course of sanitizing datasets or training models to perform content moderation tasks.

Then there's the question of opportunity cost to those who are increasingly being edged out of jobs by LLMs,i despite the fact that AI often can't capably perform the work they were doing. Should I really be using AI tools to proofread my newsletters when I could otherwise pay a real person to do that proofreading? Even if I never intended to hire such a person?

Or, more accurately, by managers and executives who believe the marketing hype out of AI companies that proclaim that their tools can replace workers, without seeming to understand at all what those workers do.

Finally, there's the issue of how these tools are being used, and the lack of effort from their creators to limit their abuse. We're seeing them used to generate disinformation via increasingly convincing deepfaked images, audio, or video, and the reckless use of them by previously reputable news outlets and others who publish unedited AI content is also contributing to misinformation. Even where AI isn't being directly used, it's degrading trust so badly that people have to question whether the content they're seeing is generated, or whether the "person" they're interacting with online might just be ChatGPT. Generative AI is being used to harass and sexually abuse. Other AI models are enabling increased surveillance in the workplace and for "security" purposes — where their well-known biases are worsening discrimination by police who are wooed by promises of "predictive policing". The list goes on.

#ai #artificial intelligence #molly white

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sirfrogsworth · 4 months

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I am so confused.

Even when this lens was first released it was $850 brand new.

Does he think people aren't going to check current prices? Did he get scammed and overpay originally? Not to mention eBay gives you a suggestion for pricing.

I really wish I hadn't sold my lenses. There was a point where I had a major decline in my health and I could no longer make comedy for my main website. At the same time, my parents were getting sicker and needed more help. We were also struggling financially. I was so depressed and I was sure I'd never do photography again, so I sold most of my lenses.

We needed the money at that moment, but in the grand scheme of things, the lens money barely made a dent in our situation. Not to mention, we got a small inheritance from my grandmother soon after, so that increased my regret. It took me years of scrounging and saving to build up a collection of 5 lenses. None of them top of the line, but all of them a good value for their performance.

Thankfully I kept the lens I used to take pictures of Otis—my "puppy lens." But my ultra wide, my macro, my tele, and my portrait lens... all gone.

And now I am trying to figure out the cheapest way I can do what I want to do with photography and I'm remembering just how expensive this hobby is. But I think I need to figure this out because I have had a substantial boost in my mental health since I started taking photos again.

A good 50mm could serve several roles. I can add extension tubes for macro. It is about 75mm on an APS-C camera, which is good for portraits. The wide aperture would allow low light photography. Combined with my Otis lens, all I'd be missing is telephoto and ultra wide angle, but honestly I never did much of that anyway. Though ultra wide angle photography is probably the most fun you can have taking pictures—even if the photographic uses are rare.

I did get a Nifty Fifty for my trip to Orlando. I wanted to see if I could get away with using a $100 lens. For the price, it is surprisingly good. And it is the first lens I recommend to anyone starting photography—as almost every camera brand has its own version. But I had several issues trying to make it work for my needs.

It's not very sharp, which is actually fine for shots taken at a distance, but would be a deal breaker for product photos and macro shots which are very close up. Those require as much detail as possible, especially if you need to crop. When you are trying to show people the fine hairs on a bee's body, a soft image just isn't going to have the same impact.

It also does not nail focus consistently and it back focuses (it focuses more behind than in front). Which is a deal breaker for my efforts to use less energy. When I did my portrait shoot with Katrina, I had to do many test shots and look at them on the computer to make sure I was getting them in focus. I was going back and forth and getting up and down. In the end I had to use a smaller aperture and higher ISO to get increased depth of field. And even then the tip of her nose was soft in the photos. Not to mention the added noise from raising the ISO.

This Sigma is a wonderful lens. I'm trying to find a good deal used, but it's still out of reach for now. I have no idea what my financial future is right now and until I know for sure that my brother will release my inheritance in March, I have to be more careful with my budget.

I am going to sell all of my studio lighting gear and use those funds to help me set up a new studio upstairs. I'm hoping that will cover the new lights I will need, but I don't think it will be enough for a lens. Someone suggested a site where I can turn my yard into a dog park, so I am looking into that. I might also see if I can get some gigs restoring photos for people, but it is so difficult finding clients.

Every problem has a solution. And maybe the universe will do me a favor and keep my brother from being terrible just this once.

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magnus-vitalis · 1 year

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Not sure I mentioned it on this account but my old one was deleted or something so allow me to explain something brief before going into this post.

I am a big fan of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. I love animation with a passion, and have been taking film classes for 2 years now to become a director so I may make my own cartoons. I helped to fund the Ramshackle pilot (which some may not know, but the webcomic is fantastic, highly recommend it) and I quite enjoyed Long Gone Gulch pilot and currently enjoy Murder Drones. Indie animation recently has been excellent.

That said, I want to mention Lackadaisy.

Oh Lackadaisy, if only I had the words to express just how much I adore you! This pilot comes from a webcomic that started when I was like, a toddler, sometime in the early 2000s (I am 18 now but that's irrelivent). Lackadaisy's pilot came out last week on YouTube, I caught it 6 hours after it uploaded, and let me tell you.

It began, Rocky was introduced first, and I just fell in love. Rocky is such a wonderful character, a thespian, a lunatic in a way, oh I just love him dearly! His friends Ivy and Freckles? Perfect sweethearts, love em to death, but this post isn't about that.

I wanted to make this post because people are (supposedly) comparing Lackadaisy to Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. Truthfully I haven't seen any of the comparisons, only people mentioning them, and I'd like to explain why I think the comparisons are being made.

I belive the reason the comparisons are happening, even though they are VERY different from each other, is that Hazbin Hotel came first. It was a pilot that got so much attention, so much love and adoration along with plenty of controversy, but this combined gave it popularity. Hazbin Hotel got ATTENTION. It was an indie animation, but it was of good quality and decently entertaining, even if it was a bit offensive to some, but to do well you have to take risks.

Hazbin Hotel, with it's popularity, had quickly brought attention to indie animation. People started to notice that, hey, anyone can make something, and with enough effort, it can be GOOD! And with that, animators started taking risks. They decided to risk putting time, effort, money, everything they had into making a pilot, just one, but one would be enough, one is all they needed, because now indie animators had people's attention. People wanted more. More unique, fun shows made by people who would put in the effort, the soul needed to make something good. Streaming service don't do that anymore. They want to play it safe, stick to what we know, which is why there are so many ugly, low quality adult animations, but nothing as good as Lackadaisy.

Hazbin Hotel, though fairly controversial, brought indie amination out of the dark and into the spotlight. It paved the way for animators to make something they have always wanted to make but were to afraid to do, or to even make something new they never would have thought about if it weren't for the sudden love indie animation was receiving.

Another thing, I noticed people calling Hazbin Hotel "bad" animation wise, and I'd like to add: it's not. It isn't bad, it's just not to some folk's preferences, and that's okay. Hazbin Hotel's pilot was sharp, fast, a little strange, but it wasn't bad. The animation to me feels more modern, like they were Taki g advantage of what you can do with computers in animation now, meanwhile Lackadaisy feels nostalgic, smooth, soft, comforting, like the old hand-drawn new frame every time old Disney type animation, and of course that's going to recieve more positive feedback, nostalgia and comfort always do.

All of the indie pilots you see on YouTube are good in their own way. Hazbin Hotel was so good it got picked up by A24 and is therefore no longer indie! Each show, each pilot, has been excellent in their own ways, and each one deserves all the love it can get. We should all stop worrying about which is better, which might be too offensive, and focus on which ones we like. You can ignore the ones you don't like and focus your love on the ones you do like, in fact you'll be happier if you do that!

The era of indie animation is here, and it going to be excellent. Please, go show your love for the indie animations of your choice. They deserve the love.

I am so happy we can live in a time with such quality, but I am also sad that there isn't many willing to fund these creators.

Sorry for the rambling, I am just feeling very passionately right now. Animation has been my dream longer than I can remember.

#animation #indie animation #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #ramshackle #lackadaisy #long gone gulch #murder drones #youtube #cartoons

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nitefise-art · 1 year

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Companion fic to my Zero comic, Part 5/?

Clavell was floating.

Someone, somewhere, was calling his name.

Who was it? What did they want? Couldn’t they tell that he was tired, that he had a lot of work to do, that this wasn’t a good time? All this data wasn’t just going to sit there and analyse itself.

And yet still the voice called.

Who was it?

If only he could turn around, if he just turned around, away from his computer screen, he would see. See who had put that hand on his shoulder, a hand he immediately swatted away. But there it was again, the hand on his shoulder. On his neck. Under his arms. Reaching, searching, feeling. Why couldn’t they leave him to enter those last digits in peace? He just had to enter those last digits—what were they? 6 – 0 – 1 – 5— what was the last digit?

“Clavell!”

Why it was Turo! Now, what did he need at such a late hour?

“Clavell, look, it’s done! We were right!”

Were they? Well, now, that was most exciting.

“All 18 types, observed at least once in every species, including the ones we introduced.”

Really? Why, that was truly remarkable.

“Isn’t it?”

Truly. What a remarkable table. Just splendid. He had better remember to clean his glasses later on, once the microwave stopped beeping.

“I mean, just think of the implications! Any Pokemon could be free of the shackles with which it’s born and be at liberty to unleash exactly the power its heart desires!”

Why, of course. Turo was right. Think of the things the League could achieve. Think of the strides in wider education. And all the children could terastallise their Pokemon—oh, what a marvellous sight to behold.

“If only it weren’t confined down here to this crater, the whole world could see the brilliance of this phenomenon.”

But of course, there was still one more step. They had been focusing so long on the effects, perhaps, now, after all that effort, it was time to find the cause? Were they ready, Turo asked, but Clavell knew—of course he knew. The answer was right there, staring them in the face, and Turo would find it, he was sure he would. No one in Paldea had been more ready for this moment than Turo was now. All he needed was a little encouragement.

Now, why couldn’t he find his glasses?

Clavell was sure he put them somewhere here. Perhaps on the shelf? Under the pillow? Or had he left them in the room back there? Golly, it was really getting harder to breathe now; he hoped he could find those glasses soon. Then he could at least see Turo better. There he was, wasn’t he? Just there in the distance. Perhaps if he called out to him, he would turn around and—

“Clavell!”

He congratulated Turo on the excellent interview. Yes, it was really quite well done, although he did not expect anything less from his star intern—only now he was an intern no longer.

“Clavell, it’s so great to see you!”

He shook Turo’s hand, although he could not feel it, so joyous was the feeling of being greeted with such enthusiasm by someone who looked up to him. What had he done to deserve such reverence?

“I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you tell me you were in the area? If I’d known, I would’ve asked them to—”

Oh, gracious, no that won’t do. Just the thought of all those eyes made him nervous—no, he couldn’t stand that sort of publicity, and Turo knew that. The real question was, what were his plans after this? Surely, after all this work, a holiday was in order? Heaven knew, Turo of all people deserved it. But of course, that was not what he had planned. They walked together, against the starlight.

“This is actually still confidential, Clavell, but… I don’t mind sharing it with you…”

What had he done to deserve such trust?

“I’ve actually just heard that my funding’s come through.”

Clavell picked up his pace, to match Turo’s.

“You know, from that corporate outfit we discussed before.”

Why, that was fantastic!

“Yes, I’m… I’m thinking I might set up a new lab. One where I can raise a family.”

Now, there was a thought. He was jogging now.

“There’s one more thing…”

Oh?

“I’d like you to be there as well, Clavell.”

The optimistic look on Turo’s face was almost nostalgic, if Clavell were not too far behind to see.

“This is just the beginning of our Area Zero research. Once the new lab is done, we can head back down there…”

It was a most inconvenient time to notice how difficult it was to breathe. It was difficult just hearing Turo’s words. Back to Area Zero? Shifting between labs? More time spent under the light of those crystals? He begged Turo to wait, to pause, to stop, to think about what he was saying—what else was he hoping to find down there? Wasn’t terastallisation enough for him? But no—terastallisation was just the surface, Turo maintained; just imagine what else we could achieve with it! There’s a far bigger secret down there, and Clavell knew it, so he was told, because Professor Heath’s Violet Book said—

Clavell didn’t like where this was going. They had been through this so many times; always the same conversation: the Violet Book said—but no, you couldn’t just believe everything the Violet Book said—but Clavell you were there, you saw the plaque—yes, he had seen the plaque—and the crystals—yes, and the crystals—

And every time the conversation would end in the same way, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how blunt he was about the dangers of pursuing such fantastical nonsense, because as far as Turo concerned, it wasn’t nonsense, it was a dream, it was his future. And who was Clavell to stop a man from pursuing his future?

Clavell watched as Turo’s back began to fade into the darkness, and in that moment, the answer seemed so clear to him. It was so simple. Why did he have to fight it? It didn’t have to end the same way—all he needed to was to say yes. To follow him, down into the depths. And by god Clavell wanted to follow him, for in that moment, it also dawned on him just what a splendid thing that eternal sleep would be. No more slings; no more arrows. Just the natural weight of the water as they sank, slowly, slowly.

All he needed to do was reach out with his hand, and not let go.

As fate would have it, however, Clavell was never given the chance. Suddenly, there were fingers—other fingers—entangled with his own. And as he was struggling to catch one final glimpse of his friend, so too was the current tugging, pushing him back, until finally, he emerged from the waves, gasping for air.

Far, far away, someone was weeping.

#pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #pokemon sv spoilers #i guess #clavell #director clavell #turo #professor turo #nitefise-art #my writing #pkmn #x #did i quote hamlet and joseph and the amazing technicolor dreamcoat in a pokemon fic? yes #yes i did #zerofic

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mwolf0epsilon · 10 months

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How goes the computer campaign?

I got up to 35% of my goal!

I'm still a long way from paying off my computer in full, but every little bit I manage to earn via commissions or via tips helps immensely and I couldn't be more grateful for everyone who's felt like pitching in.

I'm incredibly happy that I've gotten this far at all.

#Ko-fi #new computer funding effort #Thanks for asking Anon #You can keep tabs on the progress on my pinned post if you're ever curious to see how that's going #or to check if my commissions are open

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odinsblog · 2 years

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After President Vladimir Putin announced this week that Russia was conscripting some 300,000 reservists and military veterans to reinforce its war effort in Ukraine, international flights out of Russian cities quickly sold out. This latest wave of Russia’s exodus included Anton Shalaev, a 38-year-old senior manager at an IT company, and 15 colleagues.

On less than a day’s notice, these men of military age all left their relatively comfortable lives in downtown Moscow to fly to Yerevan, the capital of Armenia. Because of Putin’s war, Shalaev tossed a book, an iPad, and a laptop in a backpack and got out of Dodge.

Shalaev and his co-workers are true tech geeks, producers of high-value computer games. They represent their country’s brightest and best, members of a tech elite that was the economic foundation of Russia’s new middle class. In a last selfie from Moscow, Shalaev brandished a coffee mug that bore the slogan, not today, satan.

Anna Nemtsova: Why didn’t you want to be drafted to fight in Ukraine?

Anton Shalaev: On the day Putin declared the war, I knew I would never fight on behalf of this new Nazi Reich. They are my personal enemies: mercenaries who steal my country from me, occupy foreign territories, and kill innocent people. Putin’s army commanders have had plenty of time to turn down their contracts; instead, they are recruiting more cannon fodder now.

So I chose to help Ukrainians suffering from this horror—pay for shelters in Kyiv with cryptocurrency and write antiwar posts on social media. To encourage Russians at home, I said: “Guys, look, I am writing this from Moscow.”

Nemtsova: What was your escape like?

Shalaev: Unlike state-owned companies such as Yandex or the Mail.ru Group, which are making their employees stay, we were independent of government funding, so we made an immediate decision to relocate.

The atmosphere at passport control in the airport was quiet but tense; men waiting for the flight around me were exchanging alerted glances. I had bought my ticket right before the announcement—we were already hearing rumors of the mobilization—so it cost me only about $300. But my colleagues got their tickets the next day, and they cost more than $1,000.

The departure was super stressful. The border guards took each of my friends aside into a small room, interrogated them, asked if they had ever served in the military, and if not, why not. And you know that type of sly border official making their little jokes: “Aha, you are leaving on the day of conscription.” Of course, they checked whether our names were in the database for the mobilization.

Nemtsova: Did you do military service, in fact, when you turned 18?

Shalaev: No, I entered the Moscow State Institute of International Relations, which had a military department, so that released me from the service obligation. I studied political science, and dreamed of becoming a Russian diplomat—Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov was a graduate there. For a long time, I considered myself a Russian patriot, ready to serve.

When I enrolled in college, in 2001, there was some ideological diversity: We had a neo-Stalinist who taught us about how “Josef” ruled with an iron fist, but the next class would be with a professor telling us about liberal values. Today, the school recruits students for the secret services. And lately, I heard that the dean has urged students to call for Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky, to surrender.

Nemtsova: What do you think of the Kremlin’s decision making?

Shalaev: A few old men and an army of zombies are leading us to hell. I say that because people around me in Russia behaved as if they had been bitten by a zombie, dragging my entire country into a dreadful war. All I saw was Russian loser husbands beating their wives, while the entire rotting house of the state system has turned my people into an army of the dead.

They are my enemies.

Nemtsova: What do you know of the situation in Ukraine?

Shalaev: I constantly follow the war news in Ukraine—and I seek out the best, most objective analysts. My main sources on the atrocities are Ukrainian refugees from cities bombed by Russian forces.

I realize that I would rather go to prison than go to fight against the Ukrainian army. I openly embrace my antiwar position. I urge my social-media followers to donate to Ukrainians. This entire war is a crime against humanity.

(continue reading)

#politics #anton shalaev #russia #conscription #ukraine #no war #military draft #russian imperialism #putins war #vladimir putin go fuck yourself #vladimir putin #little putler #adolph putin #war crimes

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theculturedmarxist · 6 months

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This interview was conducted with a public health employee of the Hawaii State Department of Health (HIDOH), as part of the WSWS Global Workers’ Inquest into the COVID-19 Pandemic. The worker chose to use the pseudonym Robert to protect their identity.

Evan Blake (EB): Thank you for participating in the Global Workers’ Inquest into the COVID-19 Pandemic, it’s a pleasure to interview you. Can you describe your background and training in public health before the pandemic?

Robert (R): My training in public health began more than 25 years ago, initially centered on women’s reproductive health. I earned a degree in Public Health. My focus soon broadened from just women’s health to everyone’s due to the ongoing HIV/AIDS crisis.

Throughout my career, I collaborated with various organizations, including academic institutions and community health centers, to develop programs targeting most of the populations in the Bay Area. These initiatives encompassed health education, addiction support, and promoting healthy relationships, as well as offering HIV/AIDS and HCV [hepatitis C]testing, counseling, contact tracing, case management and patient navigation services. When I moved to Hawaii, I continued doing health education and working with those experiencing developmental disabilities, aging and chronic illnesses.

EB: What were your initial experiences when the pandemic began in early 2020? How would you characterize the initial pandemic response of DOH [Department of Health] and state officials more generally in Hawaii?

R: I noticed in December 2019, when there was talk of unusual illness in China’s news and social media. Seeing how it was being handled there made me concerned. There seemed to be more effort in hiding it than in handling it.

I waited for our government to mention it, especially on a more local level. I really thought that since, historically, the Hawaiian Kingdom has had effective quarantine and mitigation practices, that the current leadership would follow suit. My thinking was that we don’t have rabies in Hawaii, so obviously we know how to keep viruses out.

By February, I started contacting the DOH to hire me to help out any way possible. This looked like something that could easily be squashed if they rounded up all the HIV experts and put them to work. In early March, I put my disabled clients on quarantine. I bought a bunch of fabric and a serger and my family and I made hundreds of masks. Airborne transmission has always been known.

On March 4, 2020, Hawaii’s Democratic Governor David Ige declared a state of emergency in response to COVID-19, granting the state greater flexibility in responding to the crisis. This is officially when the problems with disappearing COVID funds began. On March 26, Ige issued a stay-at-home order, closing nonessential businesses and implementing strict travel restrictions.

I participated in the statewide Lt. Governor’s COVID town halls. Stay-at-home orders in March and May helped keep the numbers low. I waited for the health department to do something and cranked out masks. Schools had gone online at this point. It went pretty well for us. My kid’s school was really proactive about making sure the kids had access to what or who they needed, including computers.

My partner was labeled an essential worker because he was in construction. His boss took full advantage of this allowance and I wrote several of our state’s representatives who seemed actively concerned about COVID, about what to do in this situation.

By the end of May 2020, Dr. Mark Mugiishi, the chief executive of HMSA, brokered a deal with the UH Manoa nursing school to provide students to be trained as contact tracers. They were supposed to have seven different cohorts, but they stopped at three or four. Most of the trainees were never hired to do any work in the DOH and a majority of the graduates got letters stating thanks, but no thanks. The DOH only ever brought on a couple hundred contact tracers. That was after they got in trouble for not having enough and refusing help.

All the tracers and investigators started out being hired by agencies other than the DOH. This meant that we had no rights, but we had the same responsibilities as any other employee would have. We didn’t get hazard pay, union, or PTO, couldn’t participate in any of the benefits or mental health support and other programs they regularly provided and encouraged all employees to participate in. Most of us worked from 7 a.m. to late in the evening most nights. Most tracers and investigators were not from the locally COVID-trained cohorts.

A majority of the COVID hires weren’t brought in until much later in 2020 or in 2021. More were needed and available and instead of hiring tracers or case management, a call center was contracted to bottleneck the high volume of calls and cases.

State officials are notoriously reactive to any problem, emergency-related or not. The officials in charge of HIDOH when the pandemic was officially recognized were ill-fitted for their positions. Their responses were lackluster at best, with Sarah Park (state epidemiologist, COVID response leader) coming in to the UH Manoa COVID trainings to tell us that contact tracing was ineffective, as well as other disease mitigation techniques that we were being trained on, like routine screening.

When the contact tracing program started at the DOH, the National Guard was tasked with training us and facilitating most of the COVID mitigation efforts. This was after they had only received one day of training themselves. I met not one of them who had any health background whatsoever.

It’s been a performative disaster from the very start. Our DOH and state leadership were instrumental in encouraging the spread of COVID-19. State officials were slow to respond and, when they did, it was never an appropriate response. Hawaii usually sees at least 30,000 visitors per day from all over the world. They did everything in their power to keep that going.

EB: You mentioned that DOH employees were split up into different groups, including groups working with prisoners, homeless people, sports personnel, the wealthy, etc. Can you describe this in more detail and the class divide in the pandemic response in Hawaii?

R: DOH employees as a whole are siloed and do not collaborate or even have the slightest clue what the others are doing ever. It was difficult trying to get resources or info from within when trying to access data or connect people with other services. It was deeply embarrassing to me sometimes how incompetent everyone was.

For the pandemic efforts, the entire venture was militarized and we were beholden to chain of command operations as civilians. We were not allowed to speak to our higher-ups. Many were discouraged from speaking to anyone.

The contact tracing and case investigation were separated into several different focus groups headed by epidemiologists. These epidemiologists already had a disease focus and their loads were not lightened. They were added to. Most of them are not in fact actual trained epidemiologists. They have fallen into the position often through nepotistic means and meet bare minimum educational requirements. They had a lot of weird toxic drama that affected program function overall.

For example, if your team’s epidemiologist didn’t get along with a different team’s epidemiologist and you needed a file or lab result or info about an individual in their category, they may delay the info or just never give it to you. It was the worst addition to an already extreme high-stress situation.

The main group management often fell to the inexperienced National Guard, who were under the epidemiologists. Each group’s numbers fluctuated and usually had about 7–15 people, half National Guard, half civilian. The focuses were separated into schools, food service, military, healthcare and LT facilities, travel/VIP, Pacific Islander, severe/death, correctional facilities and homeless.

We had to wait for the daily cases to be handed to the epidemiologists. They would post new cases as they were processed into the system usually via an external call center, who received the cases mostly via the department’s only fax machine.

HIDOH hired an external call center to handle what was called first contact calls. This was actually one of the biggest obstructions to actual contact tracing or any real handling of infected patients in a timely manner.

First contact call center got the first reporting of the case. The report would come in via fax (another massive problem). That person’s name and number would be taken down and someone from the call center or the National Guard would call and ask screening questions about their health and symptoms, often with not much health training. They had three days for the individual to answer before they stopped calling and threw it out.

By the time investigators or tracers got the case, it was often 5–10 days old. We never did real contact tracing in the department. Real contact tracing would involve calling the case immediately to help them trace and notify anyone who may have been exposed. It would also involve timely and actual distribution of resources, including testing, food and money. This is not what happened.

I saw hundreds of people who were overqualified for resources denied or provided the offered resources too late. Some tracers did what could be considered “guerrilla tracing” because they had their contact info passed around for those who needed help and couldn’t get through to the health department when they needed to, or they just needed resources or their results.

A majority of people who were infected did not receive a call from the DOH or any help. They also didn’t receive guidance on quarantine or health at all. Internally, there was never training or updating on variants, pathology or how to ask sensitive questions and talk to the general public. There was a lot of secrecy and internal guidance that wasn’t health-oriented or generally useful. It was often self-congratulatory and bloviated.

This all increased the class divide as those in the service industry couldn’t afford to heal or get better and many lost and are losing their jobs. Those who were able to sealed themselves away. Admin stayed in their offices and told no one to enter, and there was an increase in work-from-home jobs for those with privilege or education, like myself.

EB: Hawaii has the highest per capita number of active US military personnel of any US state and is the state’s largest income producer, yet tourism is often claimed to be the state’s dominant industry. What were the roles of the military and the tourism industry in relation to the pandemic?

R: The military has largely handled their own COVID cases, navigation, and often not sharing when they have clusters that directly impact civilians.

The tourism industry has a finger in everything. They have been extremely instrumental in helping COVID spread. Tourism interests are largely against the people of Hawaii, who are more often harmed than helped by their existence. Tourism and business degrees are what steers most of the boards of every institution in this state. You will find significantly more business degrees than Kanaka (Hawaiian person) representing leadership in the islands. Tourism is why most of those whose birthright is the islands are homeless or not in the islands.

Both industries had large roles in facilitating spread. They pushed to keep everything open and often refused to cooperate with the HIDOH in COVID mitigation efforts.

EB: How have the federal pandemic funds approved under Trump and Biden been dispersed within Hawaii? Can you describe any corruption or negligence that you’ve seen in this regard?

R: I can pretty much only describe corruption and negligence regarding the usage of funds. The HIDOH let over 30 million dollars’ worth of badly needed COVID tests go to waste and then spent over $60,000 to destroy them. The schools never saw much of the Elementary and Secondary School Emergency Relief (ESSER) funds put to use in the schools for mitigation efforts. Countless non-profits denied resources to the community. A robot dog was purchased to test homeless people for COVID, over $1 million were spent on Thanksgiving turkeys in Maui. Oahu’s police department got a bunch of new toys.

The HIDOH never upgraded their information transmission capabilities. They depended on two fax machines for the entirety of the COVID efforts, meaning that all data and case info was transmitted through these machines, slowing down any work or real efforts.

The machines ran over the weekend and whoever was on the following Monday had literal piles of data to enter into the system for reported cases, hospital data, etc. The whole venture has been performative negligence. The funding was better and more resources were distributed while Trump was president. Biden is an absolute disgrace, considering he campaigned on getting rid of COVID.

Most of the funds that could have been used to improve the community and help mitigate COVID were used irresponsibly and have been absorbed by the state. Governor Ige went out of his way to pass legislation that approved shady usage of funds and halt transparency. Governor Green is even worse. The COVID response was just a preview for how Green is handling the Lahaina fires.

EB: Schools reopened with less and less mitigation measures each year, causing repeated waves of mass viral transmission. Can you describe this process and the public health measures you advocated for them to implement? What was the response of various officials to your efforts? How are you seeing the impacts on children, including with Long COVID?

R: The 2020 school response was much better than the following years. Students were provided Chromebooks and instruction from their teachers. It wasn’t implemented in a way that made it easy for many instructors and families, but it was the safest option that was provided.

The following year, the district (the state has only 1) offered something completely different.

In-person instruction or a program for those staying home, that required the parent or caregiver to spend 4–6 hours per day implementing. With no live teachers or real support offered from the school or Department of Education (DOE). The schools who offered it didn’t even know what it was or how it functioned. They just referred parents to the program’s website or phone number if they needed any assistance.

Often parents who required more support or Special Education (SPED) services for their children were ignored, punished, had CPS called on them, or were harassed by some school’s staff and admin.

In many of the poorest areas, where much of our service industry workforce resides, the schools didn’t even offer an alternative to in-person classes. I’m in one of these areas and I removed my child from her school after they refused to provide any support or programming besides that awful program they were offering which forced the parent to provide instruction without support. I already had a job. They called CPS on me. They would send staff to my door every week to sign unnecessary paperwork. They did this for two years. Officials didn’t care. The School’s Superintendent and the super for my area was never even available and never returned calls. I called weekly. I was working on so many cases connected to our schools the whole time, it was no question about removing my kid.

None of the public schools had their air systems improved or HEPA filters added. Some were using hand sanitizer on children’s desks in between classes when they were supposed to sanitize them properly. There wasn’t any solid guidance provided to the schools. Every time I got through to a school nurse or principal about a case, they begged for info on what to do and how to handle mitigations with all the sickness.

Sickness in children and school staff wasn’t being reported accurately because contact tracers were instructed not to connect cases in the classroom with each other. This kept the cluster report low. Many teachers were punished for mentioning their own infections and they were not allowed to notify students’ parents either. This devastated our community, since it has one of the highest counts of multigenerational households in the nation.

Josh Green, who is now Hawaii’s governor, was the head of the COVID Task Force. His main messaging has only ever been regarding vaccines. He spent a significant amount of time pointing the finger at many of our Pasifika communities in regard to their vaccine hesitancy instead of working with them to mitigate COVID in other ways.

When the 2021–22 school year started, the district was ill-prepared and kids weren’t approved for vaccines yet. The school’s superintendent, Christina Kishimoto, was completely useless at getting any mitigations in the schools at all. She ignored the entire community, including so many teachers and parents who tried to keep or make the schools, or at least education, safe and accessible to all.

Senator Brian Schatz and others who had been previously notified about in-school spread and the actual numbers present instead of the falsely low reported ones, maintained the script that children needed to learn in-person. Even after in-person learning saw children being shoved together in cafeterias all day without proper instruction due to sick staff, those in charge maintained that the children needed to be in schools. This was supposedly for their mental health and education, which had never been prioritized previously.

Hawaii has had a major deficit in adequate and accessible education, as well as mental health care providers and services, for a very long time. Additionally, we don’t have school nurses in each school like many contiguous states offer. Many of our schools share a nurse and may not have an area for children to be sick or wait for someone to get them from school.

In-school cases often fell to vice principals and other staff. By the 2022–23 school year, schools had removed any guidance that was useful. They never upgraded or improved the air systems. Many of our schools have had problems with lack of proper air conditioning for a long time before the pandemic. The pandemic just made it worse.

There was a program created at the start of the 2022–23 school year to make the DOH, DOE and CDCF work together to improve the conditions in the schools. The HIDOE refused to meet or participate in any improvements to their school’s systems, provide resources such as testing, PPE or pandemic guidance.

Our state leadership has met with many COVID experts, DOH employees and medical staff who have told them what is happening in their districts, classrooms, hospitals and the community throughout the official pandemic and even now. They all have given lip-service and often have reacted appropriately in those meetings but nothing ever comes of it.

At first, children were just getting cold-like symptoms like everyone else. Those who had existing health issues usually suffered more. Not many children’s cases were followed past the initial call. Over time, Multisystem Inflammatory Syndrome in Children (MIS-C) became a focus as the children’s symptoms didn’t always go away.

Since Omicron emerged in November 2021, kids have had an increase in seizures and a lot of problems with focus and memory. My child has had several friends die from COVID. Long COVID in kids is terrifying, and the impact is already noticeable. Mine just stated that what everyone needs to know is that it’s harder for kids to learn now. She notices so much brain damage in her peers already. Before she got COVID, it was easier for her to process information. Things take much longer now.

To be honest, I’ve rarely seen an actual full recovery. People move benchmarks and brain damage is extremely hard to self-identify. COVID is long and lasting. Nearly every infection shows damage whether it’s noticed or not. For those who don’t have immediate consequences, it’s playing the long game.

EB: How else are you seeing the ongoing impacts of the pandemic associated with COVID-19 infection, including Long COVID?

R: I noticed very early on that regardless of how mild the cases were, there were often residual issues with the person’s ability to handle and process information. The one symptom that should be tracked more than temperature is cognitive ability—confusion, disorientation, odd and unusual thoughts and behaviors. The ongoing impact of any COVID infection is a significant amount of unchecked and untracked brain damage. It’s very difficult to self-diagnose and most of our medical providers are still unaware of COVID and how it presents.

Getting infected with COVID can reduce the immune system’s ability to function. Each reinfection can reduce immune function even more, inviting opportunistic infections to eventually kill us. This is how HIV functions, but at least there is treatment for that. There’s no treatment for Long COVID and there’s even less treatment or care for those under 12 years old. The impact I see right now is immense. Children and young adults are exhibiting Alzheimer’s and dementia-like symptoms, and there are huge increases of cancer, diabetes and heart problems at the population level.

EB: What have been your experiences advocating for Long COVID patients, and what are some of your greatest concerns with the “mass disabling event” of Long COVID associated with the pandemic? What do doctors know or not know, and what do you think needs to be done to address this?

R: While documenting cases in 2020, some had symptoms that just wouldn’t resolve. A few threatened to commit suicide and were in constant and severe pain. Many of their doctors didn’t believe them. I would contact their doctors and explain what Long COVID was. I would send them studies if they requested and would tell them what labs or referrals to order for their patients.

Many doctors were receptive at first. Some would gaslight the patients, saying that they were experiencing anxiety and not their actual ongoing COVID symptoms. I made an extra effort to contact those ones because they were making the patients worse and confused. I spent hundreds of hours on social media spaces giving talks about COVID, Long COVID and what I was seeing. Other Long COVID sufferers and advocates would join.

None of this data was being collected or distributed by our DOH, regardless of how the variants mutated or the community was being impacted. Any attempts to send information up the chain of command to the top were ignored and sometimes punished.

Over time, the doctors I was working with were getting Long COVID themselves. It led to a significant reduction in care for their patients. Some would brush the issue off because they had it and they were working, which they thought meant they were fine.

Doctors need to have proper information and guidance. Without it, many people are being told COVID isn’t really a problem. They trust their doctors to know about COVID. Their doctors are unknowingly feeding them to the fire. Vaccines are only one layer of a many-layered solution, and at this point vaccines aren’t very effective at preventing infection as the virus continues to rapidly mutate and new variants continue to evolve.

In terms of public health as a whole, the CDC is looked at as the main guidance for all these institutions. They need to be putting out clear messaging about COVID being airborne, the fact that an infection commonly lasts anywhere from 14–20 days, each reinfection can reduce immune function, and COVID is a vascular disaster that can wreck any and all organs of the body. These are things that scientists have known since 2020. There is absolutely no reason Drs. Rochelle Walensky and Anthony Fauci didn’t know the correct protocols for handling this pandemic. They both have HIV backgrounds.

My greatest concern about this mass disabling event is that I live in Hawaii. Disabled people were hidden, ignored and underserved here before the pandemic. It was nearly impossible to find mental and behavioral health services and they were often insufficient at best.

When everyone keeps getting reinfected, they will not be able to function. There’s low availability for services now and it’s already getting pretty noticeable. My friends working in the hospital are reporting incredibly low staff numbers and extreme burnout. We only had nine ambulances in circulation a couple weeks ago due to callouts.

Suicides, mental hospital stays and inability to function are becoming increasingly common and we’re just getting started. Since the pandemic began, there’s been an increase in car and plane accidents, heart attacks, diabetes, cancers, previously rare disorders and sudden deaths. Currently, COVID is listed as the third leading cause for death in the US, but if data were properly collected, COVID would be number one.

I took someone to the doctor for a head wound to be stitched and the doctor didn’t even mention concussion protocol. He said strange things that hadn’t been relevant regarding COVID since 2021. He behaved odd and childlike.

This mass disabling event is largely invisible. Many cannot self-diagnose the brain damage that a significant percentage of infections cause to some degree. It changes moods, thoughts, function, and can make people confused or angry.

My biggest concern is that with mass infection and reinfection, everyone is getting their brains melted. Who will take care of anyone when no one is left healthy and functional? Who will grow our food, participate in society, or even be able to get out of bed after we’ve all had multiple infections? Who will be left?

EB: Those are critical points, and concerns that should be more widely shared. The propaganda of the corporate media and political establishment has had a real impact, and prevented masses of people from understanding the dangers of COVID-19 and Long COVID.

Changing topics somewhat, when we spoke before you said that “Lahaina is an active crime scene, just like the COVID situation here is also an active crime scene.” Can you elaborate more on this and the criminal negligence that you believe caused this catastrophic fire? What other connections do you see between this fire and the COVID-19 pandemic?

R: Just the fact that there’s such a focus from those in charge on reopening and getting back to work tells me everything I need to know. The community just experienced a life-altering trauma and instead of really taking care of them and helping them get situated and time and resources to heal, it’s full-steam ahead. Open up, get back to work, go to school. Don’t worry about how you’re going to pay that mortgage on the burn pile where you used to live.

Just like with the COVID pandemic, the Emergency Management Agency lead didn’t have experience. They didn’t sound any alarm, and clearly weren’t well versed on emergency response protocols, otherwise they would have correctly used the emergency alarm system. Instead, Herman Andaya reasoned with everyone about why he didn’t think they were necessary.

For COVID, Josh Green facilitated thousands of tourists freely and consistently infecting our community with almost no guidance other than to get vaccinated. He gaslit us for years from his whiteboard and scrubs. He got even worse after he got COVID. The brain damage is real.

Why didn’t Maui sound the emergency system that is used for emergencies including wildfires? Why didn’t HIDOH enact their public health police powers to protect the community from COVID? Why do they both consistently report false numbers? Why do they both tell the community about resources that exist, but in reality are not actually available? Why is the community being forced to bear the brunt of the outcome of both disasters alone? Why does our leadership refuse to work with the community to solve either issue?

I know how greedy and careless this government is first-hand. Especially when local people are involved. Both disasters have resulted in very high losses to our Filipino and Pasifika communities.

How are we the only state without a fire marshal? Why is there never anyone held accountable? How do all these incredibly incompetent folks keep getting replaced by more incompetence? Nepotism. It has led to incredible incompetence and I have to assume it’s why there’s no accountability or oversight anywhere or for anything.

EB: Since the beginning of the pandemic, the WSWS has advocated for the full deployment of all available public health measures to eliminate SARS-CoV-2 throughout the world. Multiple countries proved that such a Zero-COVID strategy was possible, and we now know even more about viral transmission.

We have stressed that the fundamental reason this global elimination strategy has not been implemented is due to the division of the world into rival nation-states and the refusal of the capitalist ruling elites to accept any impingement on their ability to exploit workers and generate profits. What are your thoughts on this, and do you agree that we need to fight for a global elimination strategy?

R: The SARS-CoV-2 pandemic has exposed the challenges associated with the division of the world into nation-states, each pursuing its own approach to pandemic management. It’s been an absolute disaster.

When the virus first hit and people began seeing consequences and acting accordingly, I thought we had a chance at stopping the virus. Then the countries with more behaved greedily. They hoarded and wasted resources in the face of the countries who couldn’t get access to resources from the global market.

We are all in this together and no one is getting off this rock alive. Working together is the only way to get rid of this virus and all the others that have been popping up in the past few years.

Unfortunately, such an approach seeks to prioritize the well-being of individuals and communities over economic interests as Cuba has done. They developed their own COVID-19 vaccines. They consistently have the lowest reported COVID cases and deaths globally. Often close to zero. Their vaccines work much better than ours have been.

This reflects true commitment to public health and an ability to leverage existing medical and scientific infrastructure to respond to the pandemic independently.

EB: Thank you for this invaluable interview and contribution to the Global Workers’ Inquest.

R: Thank you.

#covid 19 #hawaii #long covid #covid response #covid pandemic #class war #brain damage #Rochelle Walensky #Anthony Fauci

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usafphantom2 · 3 months

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Lockheed Martin will integrate AARGM-ER missile into F-35 aircraft

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 01/16/2024 - 16:00 in Armaments, Military

On January 12, NAVAIR (Naval Air Systems Command), on behalf of the U.S. Department of Defense, signed a $97.3 million contract for the integration of the Northrop Grumman AGM-88G AARGM-ER (Advanced Anti-Radiation Guided Missile-Extended Range) missile with the F-35A/B/C Lightning II multifunctional fighters family.

The contract, scheduled to be completed in March 2026, will be executed by the U.S. Air Force (F-35A), the U.S. Marine Corps (F-35B and F-35C), the U.S. Navy (F-35C) and partners of the F-35 JSF program, including Australia, Canada, the United Kingdom, Norway, Italy, Denmark, the Netherlands and other users of the 17º aircraft production batch.

'Lot 17' is a designation given to the last portion of F-35 aircraft produced. The U.S. Department of Defense finalized an agreement for production in December 2022.

This 'lot' includes 126 aircraft that will be the first iteration to include the Technical Refresh-3 (TR-3) update, the modernized hardware needed to power the capabilities of Block 4. The TR-3 includes a new integrated central processor with greater computing power, a panoramic display in the cabin and an improved memory unit.

Previously, the AGM-88G AARGM-ER missiles were integrated with electronic war and air defense suppression aircraft F/A-18E/F Super Hornet and EA-18G Growler, with flight tests carried out in 2021 and 2022. On September 25, 2023, Northrop Grumman announced that it was selected by USAF to supply the new anti-radiation missile for the F-35A under the codename SiAW (Stand-in Attack Weapon), based on the AGM-88G AARGM-ER project.

The AARGM-ER was designed for enemy air defense suppression (SEAD) operations, capable of attacking anti-aircraft and missile systems, ballistic and cruise missile launchers, GPS interference systems and anti-satellite systems in strongly defended areas and negation environments (A2/AD). The missile features a new 290 mm diameter fuselage and a subsonic ramjet engine, doubling its range from 110 to approximately 220-250 km and increasing its maximum speed.

The AGM-88G AARGM-ER missiles are produced with a new propulsion and improved warhead set, based on newly produced orientation systems comprising a passive radar signal receiver, satellite navigation, counting system and millimeter wave radar. This differs from the AGM-88E AARGM, where propulsion and warhead are derived from AGM-88 HARM (high-speed anti-radiation missiles) stored missiles from the previous generation.

In January 2018, the U.S. Navy hired Northrop Grumman to develop the AARGM-ER. On March 18, 2019, the USAF announced collaboration with the U.S. Navy to adapt the AARGM-ER for the F-35A, allocating $163 million for fiscal year 2020. At the same time, the U.S. Navy ordered additional development for $323 million, with funding allocated until 2020.

In July 2019, the Department of Defense granted Lockheed Martin a $34.7 million contract to initiate modifications to the F-35's internal weapon compartments to transport the AARGM-ER. The work, including the reinforcement of the fuselage structures, was completed in July 2022. The design and integration efforts are supervised by the PMA-242 (Direct and Time Sensitive Attack) office of the Department of Defense.

Tags: AGM-88E AARGMweaponsMilitary AviationF-35 Lightning IILockheed Martin

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Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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soap-lady · 4 months

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Happy...whatever

Okay, I'm back on my nonsense so here's a super long (11k) story in my Hellraiser domestic fluff series.

CW: Cyber stalking, physical stalking, thoughts of violence, kidnapping, profanity, threats of torture, threats in general, and Trevor Gooden.

@tenebrare was a huge help and I couldn't have gotten this done without them.

@angelqueen13art @idreamtofmanderleyagain Hope you enjoy this.

Kirsty’s Abhorrent Admirers

When Kirsty announced her plans to return to college, Tiffany and Elliot had been one hundred percent happy and supportive. Kirsty had a quick and clever mind and it was wasteful for her to languish indoors when there was a world of opportunities for her.

Her tuition was paid for by a trust fund created by her parents after she was born, so there would be no financial burden and after some documents prepared by legitimate medical professionals, Kirsty’s time away could be explained as a Gap Year.

Kirsty was pursuing a career in business, very useful for handling her own finances as well as clients looking for stable investments. It was all very wordy and technical and Elliot renewed his efforts to learn more about the modern world. The Cenobites kept up with technological advances but contemporary business practices, much like social norms, were somewhat unexplored as they were deemed unimportant for their work.

Tiffany was proud and pleased. She was happy that Kirsty was learning new things and moving on from the Channard Institute, just like she was. They joked about being “study buddies” and that Tiffany should visit the campus and see if she’d like to attend Kirsty’s university as well someday.

Elliot tried not to let his personal feelings brought on by old doubts affect Kirsty’s enthusiasm. True, not many women went to university in his day but he could see that attitude was foolish and outdated. There were times he truly loathed regaining his memory; he’d always thought of himself as progressive; he’d even supported women’s suffrage. But his old beliefs were now so old-fashioned. He knew neither young woman needed him as a protector and provider, but he still longed to take care of them as they took care of him. He missed the days when it was just the three of them and he didn’t have to share either girl with the outside world.

You think like an old man, Spencer. Kirsty would laugh if she knew what you were thinking and Tiffany would be ashamed.

So he did what he thought was best; suppress any misgivings he had and actively encourage and assist her in every way he could. He was learning more about computers and was accumulating as much knowledge as he could hold. They were both progressing well in their self-defense lessons and would soon be ready for weapons.He could also listen to her talk about her professors, tell her how proud they were of her, and give her the emotional support she needed.

Everything was wonderful for the first few weeks. Then problems arose when Tiffany and Elliot noticed Kirsty was garnering loads of…admirers.

Men, for the most part. Lots of them.

At first they were just morbidly curious about the young woman who survived not only a massacre committed by family members but a massacre committed by an insane psychiatrist trusted to treat her survivor’s guilt and trauma. Most of them had buggered off when she refused to answer their questions . There was also the icy glare given to them by Tiffany and Elliot when they’d dropped by the School of Business to take Kirsty to lunch.

Had Kirsty been interested, she had a wide variety to choose from. There was a junior professor, a teaching assistant, an assistant at the university library, and scores of her fellow students.

The junior professor tried to impress her with philosophy. The TA wrote her poetry. The lad from the library always volunteered to help with research materials. They and Kirsty’s fellow students were mostly harmless. Some were almost eligible and had many traits in their favor, such as intelligence or a good position. He didn’t consider any of them worthy but had to concede it was her decision.

Fortunately, Kirsty didn’t seem too interested. She didn’t think dating a professor was a good idea, even if he wasn’t one of hers. Getting involved with a teaching assistant could invite accusations of cheating or getting the answer sheet early. The library assistant was nice and funny but a girl named Megan in her Economics class had eyes on him and Kirsty refused to pursue him, citing, “Sisters over Misters.” Tiffany explained to Elliot that it was against the Girl Code of Ethics to pursue a man you knew a friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance, liked.

Then, there was Trevor.

Elliot had taken an instant dislike to him. The man wasn’t unattractive and had blue eyes that seemed to draw female attention. His smile was practiced and his teeth were so perfect Elliot wanted to ram them down the other man’s throat in the hope they would be shat out.

Ahem

That was an unkind thought and though he had many opinions on the matter, only Kirsty was allowed to decide who could court her, even if he were a smug little sod who kept trying to find excuses to touch Kirsty. One time he rubbed his thumb across hers while handing her something. Another time he touched her hair by claiming a leaf had flown into her curls. He would also try to sit beside Kirsty, but Kirsty thwarted him by having her “girl squad”, other female students she was starting to become friends with, occupy any seat near her. Tiffany and Elliot filled this role whenever they visited or went out with Kirsty’s peer group.

If Trevor noticed Kirsty’s less than enthusiastic response to his pursuit, it didn’t stop him from trying to ask her out or suggesting she join a “group chat” to discuss assignments. Any time his eyes met Elliot’s he would grin smugly as if he’d already won Kirsty over. Elliot had also heard himself referred to as “Kirsty’s Dad” or how glad he was that “older people were so interested in education.”

He knew he was twelve years older than Kirsty, hardly an insurmountable age difference, and she’d been an adult when they met. She seemed fond of him now that she’d forgiven him for trying to kill her or condemn her to eternal torture. There was something to be said for experience and he was a man who had been educated at the finest military academy in Britain, so he was closer to being Kirsty Cotton’s equal than some uncouth sod who leered at her with all the subtlety of a baboon.

Sigh.

He would keep his opinions about Trevor to himself until and unless Kirsty asked him directly.

Elliot refused to lower himself by replying to Trevor’s barbs. He would trust Kirsty to make her own decisions and protect herself when he couldn’t be with her. He handed Kirsty her lunch and asked for her input about supper. He was always rewarded with a kiss on the cheek and a “see you at home, Dear” before he and Tiffany left via public transportation. He did his best not to look smug that Kirsty would rather kiss him and not Trevor. Some of Kirsty’s peers referred to him as Kirsty’s house husband and Tiffany was laughing so hard she could barely explain.

“It’s um…a reversal of gender roles, you know?” she managed at last while looking over her homework. “Kirsty goes out, earns the money and you stay home and take care of the house.” Before he could protest she added. “There’s not much social stigma for stay at home dads or husbands any more, not that a guy who used to wear a skirt cares much about social norms.” She winked at him. “Besides, everyone can tell she likes you a lot more than Trevor. Trevor is a douche canoe who gives off creeper vibes. You’re family.”

It never failed to warm him when Tiffany or Kirsty called him family. He missed feeling as if he belonged somewhere or to someone. He’d worked along his Order for decades. He was glad to have regained his independence but he was sorry that they hadn’t survived along with him. They had been good soldiers and he missed their loyalty and company.

Elliot did his best to take Tiffany’s words to heart but the fact Trevor could be around Kirsty for hours on end, away from her family, where he had a chance to charm her or wear her down until she agreed to “give him a chance” and date him made Elliot uneasy.

He doubted that Trevor had good intentions towards Kirsty. Perhaps he saw her as a conquest and would discard her once he’d had sex with her. Maybe he wanted her because he couldn’t have her and enjoyed the challenge. Then again, and to Elliot’s mind this was the most likely motive: money. Kirsty didn’t flaunt her wealth or act haughty but the university she attended was not inexpensive and many of her classmates worked for their tuition or had a collection of scholarships, grants, and loans.

Kirsty did not. Elliot once heard Trevor whisper that Kirsty “must be a trust fund baby” and bristled on her behalf, reminding himself that stomping people to death was illegal. Kirsty was leagues above the women of his class in his youth; she would never be content with a life of leisure, a pretty doll on a man’s arm. She wanted to create her own destiny and decide her future for herself. It was admirable and made him respect her even more.

Their days as a small but ideal family might have continued in a state of equilibrium for years on end. Kirsty showed no preference for any of the men who pursued her, even if one of her friends referred to the young woman’s admirers as a “reverse harem.”

Then the texts started.

Most of them were innocuous. Compliments, snippets of poetry, even a few photos of Kirsty sitting in class or laughing with her new friends. Clearly this was someone who knew her from university.

It bothered him more that he wanted to admit that some unknown git was upsetting Kirsty and following her. It enraged him that someone thought that Kirsty, his Kirsty, belonged to them, as if her thoughts and feelings didn’t matter. He found himself reaching for tools that no longer hung at his waist. No matter. The army taught him how to kill and there were other techniques he had perfected as a Cenobite.

Elliot and Tiffany had just arrived to escort Kirsty to their usual “Friday Night Family Dinner” at a revolving series of restaurants when Kirsty’s text alert went off.

She pulled out her phone, groaned, and then rolled her eyes. “Not this shit again,” she sounded annoyed.

“Is it the return of Captain Douchebag?” Tiffany asked.

The number the person used always came up as “Unknown” so Tiffany had started calling him “Captain Douchebag”, a name no doubt thought up by Callie, who had started referring to her ex-beau by that moniker. It was oddly appropriate for the person bothering Kirsty.

“Yep.” Kirsty read the message aloud.

Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a little time

Kirsty snorted. “Auden. At least the douche is avoiding the worst of cliche love poems, like Shakespear’s sonnets or ‘How Do I Love Thee?’ So he’s at least slightly original.”

“What makes you so sure it’s a guy?” one of Kirsty’s male classmates asked. Elliot was surprised that it wasn’t Trevor. The younger man seemed determined to insert himself in every conversation as much as he seemed to want to insert himself…no that was vulgar.

“I can’t see a girl thinking poetry would work on me. He’s clearly trying to be aloof and mysterious but he’s coming off as a stalker.”

The group laughed and Trevor of all people tried to be the concerned voice of reason.

“No offense, Kirsty, but aren’t you taking this guy…or girl…or nonbinary a little lightly?” Trevor frowned. “They could be dangerous. I mean…” he shrugged, “they could follow you home and stake out your house…follow you to class…attack you”

Kirsty didn’t scoff or acknowledge his concern. “He’s hiding behind a screen and using an unknown number. I keep blocking him but he texts me again from a new number. Probably a coward.” She ran her thumbs over her phone then grinned in satisfaction. “There! Blocked again! That should give us time to eat in peace.” She stood up, then grabbed Tiffany’s then Elliot’s hands and pulled them to their feet. She smiled at the group but did address Trevor. “I’m never alone. I have people watching my back.”

“I for one, would feel a great swell of pity for anyone who tried to harm Kirsty,” Elliot’s cool blue eyes swept over Kirsty’s peers and a few of them shivered. “But not for very long.”

The three of them walked arm in arm as they decided on a Greek restaurant for dinner.

*****

“You know, next semester I might see how many classes I can take online,” Kirsty was saying as she poured Elliot a glass of ouzo.

Elliot gave her a nod of thanks and took a cautious sip before setting down his glass. “Why is that?” I thought you were doing well, making friends…”

The server placed down a plate of stuffed grape leaves and gave them all a professional smile. His eyes might have lingered on Kirsty but she didn’t seem to notice. Tiffany dived in and grabbed four before anyone else.

Kirsty nodded. “Yeah. I’ve met some pretty cool people. There’s all sorts of campus activities…even support groups for trauma survivors.”

Elliot cleared his throat, then tried the ouzo again. The black licorice flavor was a bit cloying and the subject made him uncomfortable.

Tiffany caught his eye, looking sympathetic. “That’s a good thing. You know…for your dad, or Channard.”

Kirsty frowned as she put some dolomedes on a small plate and passed them to Elliot. “Well, I’d have to talk about the circumstances surrounding Dad’s death and we technically are still under a gag order pending the lawsuit with Channard’s estate. I couldn’t say much without getting into legal trouble or ending up in another asylum.” She laughed and there was a tinge of bitterness in it.

“Tiffany was telling me about a phone app that matches you with a therapist and you can remain anonymous,” Elliot suggested.

Kirsty smiled at him and continued. “Good idea. Thanks, El.” Returned to her previous subject. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s some great people in my classes.” She sighed. “But they’re all…” she gestured with her hands. “…normies, y’know?” She looked from Elliot to Tiffany. They looked back at her. Tiffany nodded in understanding while the term confused Elliot but he was still attentive.

Kirsty explained. “Their lives are so normal and mundane. They don’t know what it’s like to lose a family. They have their own struggles with money but no huge tragedies. I can’t really relate to them. All they want to do is…” she frowned as she tried to think of how to phrase her thoughts. “Go out and drink and party all weekend. Go to class on Monday hungover, swear they’ll never do it again. Then they do it again the next Friday. They laugh at me for studying and tell me “you only live once!”

There was a part of Elliot that was jumping up and down. He knew he was being selfish but he didn’t want to share Kirsty or Tiffany with the outside world. He knew it was an unhealthy attitude; that most humans were social creatures and needed the company of other people. That didn’t stop him from wanting to wrap his girls in cotton and protect them from the outside world.

“Then there’s all the attention, especially male,” Kirsty rolled her eyes and looked at Tiffany, who also rolled hers.

Elliot had the feeling he was about to step on treacherous ground. He wanted to protect her but he also knew he had no right to forbid her from anything. “You’re an attractive young woman so of course people are going to notice you.” He tried to be tactful. “Still, the young men around you seem a bit…intrusive.”

“And touchy-feely,” Tiffany added.

Elliot shook his head in disapproval. “They find any excuse to approach you, touch you. Intrude on your time. I know it isn’t my place but…” he placed his hands on the table. “Why do modern men find it so difficult to believe you’re not flattered by their attention?”

“Because they weren’t taught manners,” Tiffany spoke up before Kirsty could but the older woman nodded. “They don’t take no as ‘I’m not interested’. They take no as ‘Try again later,’ “ She grinned at Elliot. “Maybe you could do a TED talk for modern guys or something.”

“Or something,” Elliot agreed. He turned back to Kirsty. “It’s your decision of course,” he longed to make the decision for her, “and you know Tiffany and I will support you either way.”

Kirsty beamed at him and he pretended not to notice that her eyes were tearing up a bit. “Thanks, El,” she leaned forward and took his and Tiffany’s hands in hers. “It means a lot to me that after dealing with classes and weirdos over text that I can come home to you guys.” She squeezed their hands. “You understand me.”

Tiffany nodded, also getting emotional. “Same.”

Elliot raised their hands to his lips and kissed their knuckles. “You are two of the most amazing people I have met in decades,” he told them. He looked at both of them and smiled. “I’m honored you consider me family.”

None of them spoke for a few minutes as they basked in comfortable silence with people who understood them. Elliot was hesitant to say more and hoped his eyes did all the talking for him. He was grateful to have their trust and hoped, in a way, he also had their love. He knew he loved them but it was a nebulous sort of love. Tiffany was the daughter he never had but he hesitated to define his feelings for Kirsty. He wasn’t sure how she felt about him. Could she separate the nightmare creature he had been from the man he was now? He told himself to be patient, to let her come to him.

Then she would smile or laugh at him and tease him and he felt his resolve weaken. He also found it difficult to separate the worthy opponent from the young woman before him. She’d been his adversary. Now she was his family. It was still jarring for him.

Kirsty shook off whatever emotion she was feeling and looked at the menu. “Okay, okay, enough of me being sappy. This isn’t the Hallmark Channel. Who wants to try the souvlaki with me?”

*****

Elliot’s phone buzzed in his pocket as he perused the used book store near the mall. It was a tiny little place in a shopping plaza next door to a cafe. The store was old but clean and he had a delightful conversation with the clerk about the debt modern science fiction writers owed to Mary Shelley, H.G. Wells and Jules Verne. He excused himself, paid for his items, and exited the store to answer the call.

“Hallo, this is Spencer. Is this Tiffany or Kirsty?”

None of the people he dallied with had his number. He didn’t give it out. If they wanted to see him during the week they usually rapped on the door while the girls were away and made an appointment. He wondered if Kirsty was ill or if Tiffany had forgotten her lunch again.

“Hello, Darling.”

He paused. He recognized the voice as Kirsty but she sounded strange. Her tone was too bright and filled with syrupy affection. Plus, she referred to him as “darling”. Kirsty never addressed him with any endearments. She usually called him Elliot, Elli, Spencer, or if she was annoyed or trying to tease him, Captain Spencer.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Kirsty was either in danger or in a situation where she felt uneasy. “Are you being followed? Can anyone hear you?”

“How did you know? I swear you have to be psychic!”

He assumed she was answering yes to both of her questions. “Where are you? Are you safe?”

“I just got out of class and had to call you. I was going to head home but I’d much rather meet you somewhere.”

Someone was following her and she didn’t want to lead them home. They were close enough to hear her conversation so she was speaking to him in code.

Anyone who didn’t know her well would miss the slight tremor in her voice, the way it was pitched higher than normal.

Kirsty Cotton, the young woman who’d escaped his Order twice, was afraid.

Elliot’s concern for her melted into anger. His skin felt hot and his blood roared in his ears. He wanted to slice this person’s stomach open and strangle them with their own intestines. He wanted to crack their skull open and feed them their own brain. He wanted-

Kirsty’s voice cut through the haze of anger surrounding him. “I really need to see you. Where should I meet you?”

He looked around. “I’m near the shopping mall. It’s rather crowded today so it’ll be easy to give someone the slip. Don’t take any side streets. You could get lost in a cul-de-sac. Take the most public roads you can. I’ll meet you near the soft pretzel place you like. Park on the third level of the parking garage. It’s the most well-lit. If nothing else we can take the bus home and pick up your car later. Just don’t leave anything inside and we’ll let security know why it’s there. Be safe, Kirsty.”

“I will, Darling. See you soon.”

*****

Kirsty met him fifteen minutes later. She must have sped all the way there but it was hardly the time to lecture her about traffic laws. She surprised him by wrapping her arms around him as if he’d disappear if she let go. Elliot stiffened at first then allowed himself to relax and hold her. He rubbed her back in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

Eventually he reluctantly released her and stepped back. She stopped hugging him but still held his hand. Her eyes were huge, pupils dilated, and tinged with red. He imagined she either cried on the way over or it was a very near miss.

“Is he or she still following you?” he asked and then inwardly cringed. That was hardly a diplomatic thing to ask but he felt it was important to know.

She looked unsure. “I don’t know. I kept making weird turns to make it harder for him to follow me but he might have put a tracker on my car.”

Him. So it was a man, one of the idiots from class or a professor who thought they were entitled to her time and attention. Disgusting. In his day women might have had to worry about being accosted by a stranger on the Tube but any man of honor knew to take his defeat and withdraw once being rejected. Really, these modern men continued to disappoint him.

“We’ll thoroughly search your car once we’re safely home.” Really, this was a world that sent people to orbit the earth and cure diseases yet used this wonderful technology to more efficiently stalk a woman who was clearly uninterested.

Kirsty continued to look at him. Her hand trembled, her lips wobbled and he dearly wanted to put her in his pocket and keep her safe. That, or bash the idiot’s brains in. But that response might get him arrested. And probably banned from the mall. He looked around.

“I believe near the west end of the mall is a store that recently went out of business. If I recall correctly there was a bench in front of the store where we could sit and talk.”

She nodded in agreement, then frowned. “Isn’t that a little isolated?”

He shook his head. “Usually, yes, but it’s also near the security office. We should be all right.”

*****

They made their way to the abandoned store, Kirsty holding his hand the whole way. It bothered him that this brave, confident girl was reduced to clinging to him due to fear. He imagined it had reminded her of running from her disgusting uncle, or perhaps his Cenobite persona. He selfishly hoped it was the former.

After they had sat down he turned to her and asked, “Would you like to tell me what happened? You can take your time of course.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when she wrapped herself around him and began to weep, shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

His neck felt wet and he assumed she must be crying. It shamed him to admit it but he enjoyed the feeling of her arms around him. He rubbed her back and let her cry, occasionally murmuring, “it’s all right. Let it all out. I’ve got you.”

After five minutes she let go of him and he was finally able to reach into a pocket and pull out a handkerchief. She thanked him and wiped her face. He kept an arm gently draped across her shoulders and she leaned against him.

His conscience pricked him and he wondered if he were somehow taking advantage of the situation. “Would you like to talk about it? Or if you prefer, we can go home and you can speak to Tiffany if you’d be more comfortable talking to a fellow lady…”

Kirsty shook her head and managed the tiniest of smiles. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

He felt warmed by her belief in him once again. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She took several deep breaths to calm herself and then began. “Well, I started this yoga class before lunch. You know, with Parvati and Ilsa? Well, I was taking a shower and I thought I heard a man’s voice.”

He ignored the shower and focused on her voice. Elliot swallowed his anger and asked, “a custodian, perhaps?”

She frowned and leaned away slightly. “I thought so too at first but the custodian for the women’s locker room during the day is a woman. A man only cleans it when the college closes down at night.”

Elliot nodded to show he was still listening and she continued.

“I dressed as fast as I could and walked near the exit with my keys sticking up between my fingers. I figured if someone tried to attack me I could jab them with my keys.”

He dipped his head in approval. “A sensible precaution. Well done.”

“Well, then I heard women’s voices. They were probably wondering what the guy was doing there and he left. They saw me and,” Kirsty took another deep breath, “and said the guy was probably a pervert and it was dangerous to be alone, so they walked me to the cafeteria and we had lunch.”

“Very clever, all of you,” he approved.

She just shrugged. “Class was fine and I’d almost forgotten about the guy until I was leaving class. The business building is pretty old and near the back of campus. There’s this covered sideway which has hedges on both sides. It’s pretty, but-”

“Isolated,” he finished.

Elliot knew she could protect herself. She was clever and brave and a fierce fighter. She was learning hand to hand combat with ease but had her weaknesses like everyone else. He was beginning to wonder if she needed a bodyguard; the thought that she was followed, even to the women’s changing room worried him. He wondered if she would allow him to accompany her to class. If not him perhaps they should consider hiring a professional. Better safe than dead.

Kirsty rubbed the back of her neck and gave him a rueful smile. “Yeah. You know how the hairs on your neck stand up when you’re scared or think you’re in danger?” He nodded and she nodded back. “So that happened. I could hear and feel someone following me. I didn’t want to risk looking back to see them.” She gestured with her hands. “I didn’t want to walk faster and let them know I knew they were there so I pulled out my phone and called you. I figured you could come meet me or I could meet you and if they tried anything there would be a phone record.”

She was so very very clever. He couldn’t help but admire that about her, even if it had been frustrating for him when he was the Pontifex Inferi.

He spoke softly and gently to her, afraid he might spook her. “Forgive me for saying this but…this incident…it must have felt like…”

Kirsty pulled him close and put her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were dark and haunted. “Yeah, I know. It felt just like when Frank was wearing Daddy’s skin and hunting me through the house. I thought I was gonna die, just like back then.”

Even though it hadn’t been his intention, he was glad the arrival of himself and his Order had spared her something vile. “I’m sorry, Kirsty.”

It wasn’t his fault Frank was such an unrepentant bastard but he was still furious at the man for attempting to subject Kirsty to his perverse lust. He too was a lustful creature, in life and in service to Leviathan but the thought of coercion disgusted him. Now another man was making Kirsty feel unsafe and he burned with the desire to inflict any and all tortures he could imagine upon the filthy creature.

Kirsty gave him another side hug and looked up at him. “Crying makes me thirsty.” She managed a smile and they both pretended it was real. “How about a latte at Nova Novak's?”

*****

They ended up having not just lattes but elderberry scones as well. They chatted about nothing about consequence and he even succeeded in making her laugh. She was beginning to relax when she stiffened and sat up straight, looking off into the distance.

“Don’t look at him directly,” Kirsty warned him, “but I think I just saw Trevor.”

“Does he work here?”

Kirsty shrugged. “Nah. Trevor thinks he’s too bougie to work at a mere mall. His friend Brent works at a phone kiosk.”

Elliot mentally ran through all the information she had given him about Trevor. Pompous ass, entitled git, yes…opinionated prat with unknown designs on Kirsty.

Wait.

“Didn’t you say someone kept texting you from different burner phones?” he asked her. He tried to both look at and not look at Trevor.

Kirsty stopped trying to observe Trevor with her makeup mirror and stared at Elliot, wide-eyed. “Having a friend who works for a phone carrier would make it easy to get a new phone. He could just trade in an old phone for a new one.”

It was both clever and disgusting. If he paid cash for each phone it would make them hard to trace and his accomplice could help him dispose of old phones by recycling them. Many carriers had a program where people could donate old phones. Even if a phone could be traced, it could not be traced back to Trevor.

“Interesting,” he mused aloud, “and if we hadn’t just coincidentally been here today, we might not have known for weeks or months.”

There was a clatter as Kirsty rose to feet so fast she made her chair wobble. Elliot could see her intent; she was about to go to the phone kiosk and confront Trevor publicly, perhaps even attack him. He could not let that happen.

“Kirsty, don’t!” he firmly grabbed her hand and shook his head at her once he saw he had her attention. He softened his voice. “Don’t. Please don’t. Not here.”

“Why-” her first impulse was to dash off and take control of the situation and force Trevor to confess. Then she realized people were watching and she sat back down, eyes narrowed. She was tempted to tell him to fuck off but stopped herself. Elliot might have some good advice for her so she decided to hear him out. She lowered her voice and asked through gritted teeth. “Why the hell not?”

Kirsty was brave, clever and resourceful. She was good at improvising on the spot but she was also impulsive and that got her into trouble. He wished he still had his chains and a convenient place to hide bodies. Trevor would be strung up for all to see and Elliot would have made a necklace out of his ears for Tiffany and his hide would be boots for Kirsty. Now that he was human and only had human means of punishment he would have to work within the law. To do otherwise could risk his family.

He also lowered his voice. “Because as enjoyable as it would be to confront him or attack him, this is neither the time nor the place. You have scores of witnesses and you can almost be assured there would be video evidence online. Plus, someone would call security and you could be arrested. That would not be good for your academic career.”

Elliot gave in to the urge to grab her hand. “I can understand your desire for revenge. I would feel the same way if someone was stalking me for whatever reason.” He wasn’t quite pleading with her. “But we must be cleverer than Trevor. Document everything. Someone with his arrogance would cock it up sooner or later and expose himself publicly.”

Kirsty bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Expose himself, huh?”

He realized what he’d said and flushed. “Not remotely what I meant.” He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. “We’ll need a plan and we’ll make one together. That way we can figure out how to make Trevor incriminate himself.”

*****

The next two weeks were relatively peaceful. Aside from a few “Who the hell were you talking to?”! texts Kirsty’s “mysterious stalker” more or less left her alone. Between Elliot, Tiffany, a temporary bodyguard named Beatrix, and Kirsty’s female classmates, she was never alone. She was starting to relax and enjoy her education again. By contrast, Trevor looked increasingly frustrated every time Elliot caught a glimpse of him. He supposed Trevor’s grand plan was failing spectacularly. Amateur. Elliot had cut his teeth on books by Tacticus and Sun Tzu. Some plebeian with a mid tier education didn’t stand a chance.

Kirsty’s college friends thought she was being harassed by an abusive ex and thus did everything in their power to keep her safe. They also kept a close eye on anyone trying to interact with Kirsty and it helped Elliot’s cause to have a dozen other eyes helping with surveillance.

Tiffany had come with Elliot to accompany Kirsty home. Kirsty’s friend Ilsa had spotted the girl and smiled at her, sliding across the bench to make room for Tiffany and Elliot. “Hey, sis!” She addressed Tiffany. She looked Elliot over and winked. “Hey, zaddy.”

“Er…hello, Ilsa,” he smiled at her. Ilsa blushed.

Trevor looked annoyed, as he always did when any of the women in their circle showed him any positive attention. “Please. Like he knows what it means.”

Tiffany answered before Kirsty or Elliot could. “Yes he does. I’ve been tutoring him in Gen Z.” She gave him a side hug. “He’s such a fast learner.”

Elliot patted her shoulder. “Thank you for educating an old man such as myself, poppet.” He smiled and she smiled back. “I quite literally learn something new every day.”

Trevor once again interrupted a conversation that didn’t need his input. “Is one of those things how to be a pedophile?”

Kirsty and Tiffany glared at Trevor. Most of the people at the table stopped talking and glared at Trevor. He found himself greatly outnumbered and instead of apologizing and politely withdrawing he continued to speak.

“Oh, come on!” he went on. He gestured at Kirsty. “She’s barely old enough to drink!” He then pointed at Tiffany, who stared at him in shock. “And she’s only fourteen! And he lives with both of them!”

“And what’s your point?” Everyone looked at Parvati, who rarely spoke up. She looked a little self-conscious but continued. “He’s Tiffany’s family. Kirsty told us all he’s her only living family. I doubt they share a room.”

“We don’t even share a bathroom!” Kirsty was quick to defend Elliot, who had decided the wisest thing to do was keep his mouth shut and let the women in his life talk. He felt a great sense of pride and gratitude that he didn’t have to ask the ladies in his life to defend him, they did it on their own.

“Everyone has their own bathroom. And their own room.” She looked Trevor over and didn’t even try to hide her contempt for him. She decided to publicly embarrass him, just as he was trying to do to Elliot. “Really, what’s your problem with Elliot? Why are you starting shit when he’s never done anything to you?” She scoffed. “What, are you jealous you’re not living with a fourteen year old?”

Even the other guys in the group were snickering at Trevor and he realized he wasn’t going to win over public opinion. So he decided to go on the attack.

“Unlike your roomie, Kirsty, I don’t have a taste for jailbait,” he sneered at Elliot. Goddammit, Spencer was such a cock blocker! He thwarted every attempt he made to ask Kirsty out and poisoned her mind against Trevor. Now the asshole was poisoning all his friends against him.

“So keep your creepy uncle pedo vibes to yourself, Spencer, and-”

No one knew what else he was going to say. Before he could continue (swore everyone who saw it happen) he was down on the ground with the wind knocked out of him.

Tiffany stood over him. No one remembered seeing her stand up, much less punch Trevor in the stomach. It was a very good shot and Elliot and Kirsty were secretly impressed. Shocked, but impressed.

The young blonde brandished a fist. “Come at my family again. See what happens to you.”

Before he could stand up she turned and walked towards Kirsty’s car without stopping to see if the rest of her family was following her. They scrambled to their feet and fell in step behind Tiffany. Kirsty might have accidentally on purpose stepped on Trevor’s leg. Elliot definitely gave the other man a triumphant smirk as he passed his prone form.

“That was quite a punch, Tiffany,” Elliot said as they walked to the car. “But next time, don’t tuck your thumb into your fist. You could break it.”

*****

Two days later Trevor was nowhere to be found. He’d skipped all his classes and hadn’t answered any texts. Even his best friend Brent had sent a message to the group chat asking if anyone had heard from him. No one remembered adding him but they all promised to let him know if anyone had heard from Trevor.

Elliot was blissfully unaware that Trevor was missing and would not have cared if he’d known. He’d had a “morning visit” with a neighbor, who was kind enough to drive him to the library to check out some books about automobile restoration. He then had lunch with and then “afternoon delight” with another neighbor and went home feeling quite satisfied.

He began to worry when Kirsty texted him that she’d be late and couldn’t pick up Tiffany so he would have to make sure she took the bus home.

He’d texted Tiffany to let her know and hadn’t received a reply. That surprised him. She was always on her phone and after the incident with her first date she kept it charged and they’d increased her cellular plan. They’d also installed an app that would let them, with Tiffany’s permission, track her if they hadn’t heard from her after a certain amount of time.

Had a teacher confiscated it? Tiffany had been careful not to text in class but accidents happened. It could have been damaged but if that had happened she would have texted from Callie’s phone to let them know. She had before.

This wasn’t like Tiffany and he was growing worried. Kirsty might not be his direct responsibility but Tiffany was and he decided he was going to find her.

He pulled out his own phone and activated the tracking software. It showed Tiffany’s phone was stationary, if slightly off of school grounds.

Well, he wasn’t going to sit around and worry. He was going to take action…by taking the bus down to Tiffany’s school.

*****

Tiffany had told him about a shack just off the school campus. The school had once used it as a garden shed for agriculture classes but after the school had been renovated it was discovered that the building was technically not on school grounds but on public property. The renamed “squatters shack” sat just off of the school campus and was used by the occasional homeless person but also by students and (rumored) by teachers to either get high or get laid. It was forty foot by forty foot (twelve meters by twelve meters) and quite roomy.

Her phone signal was coming from there. The front entrance faced the street but there was also a back entrance with a ramp for when the shack contained large sacks of fertilizer that needed to be removed via wheelbarrow.

Elliot listened at the door and heard two voices. One was high-pitched, the other lower and gruff. He looked around for something he could use as a weapon and found an old rake. The metal bits were rusted but the handle was made of solid wood and barely rotted. It would have to do.

The building looked old and the door was closed but he doubted it had a deadbolt. One good kick should do it.

He braced himself and kicked the door open, sending dust and splinters everywhere. His voice briefly regained the strident military cadence it once had. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Elliot brandished the rake then stopped, blinking in shock.

This was not at all what he was expecting.

Instead of coming to rescue his teenaged ward he’d stumbled across a tall bulky man trying to hoist a familiar twit with a pulley. Under the man was a large metal tub half filled with water. Clearly some sort of water torture was the order of the day, the victim was perhaps half a meter above the water.

Trevor Gooden, looking slightly worse for wear, was tied up with and suspended by hooks from chains. Unfortunately they only pierced his clothing and not his skin. The man’s formerly expensive shirt was in tatters but the denim of his jeans was strong enough to bear the weight of the chains; otherwise Trevor would have fallen into the tub and drowned.

He brandished the rake handle at the stranger. “Let him go,” he demanded. He sighed inwardly as he prepared to save the life of someone he couldn’t stand.

The stranger looked at him. They wore what looked like a gas mask over their face, a little more modern than the ones he was used to. They wore all black, even down to their gloves and thick black wellies. The figure shook its head. “No. This worm has offended and attempted to dishonor the Sunset Queen and must be punished. He has invaded her privacy. He has harassed her. He has attempted to keep tabs on her by attaching a tracker to her vehicle.” The person’s voice sounded male, its tones reverberating throughout the small room. Trevor begged for mercy and Elliot felt confused.

“Sunset…do you mean Kirsty?” Elliot asked. The person nodded. He took a deep breath and tamped down his anger. This disgusting creature thought he had a right to Kirsty! But no, he wouldn’t stand by and let the sod die, even if he deserved it. He did not want the police poking around the house or in their lives. Again. Kirsty and Tiffany did not need their names in print or on television again, even though that Summerskill person was rather nice. “Thank you. We’ll find the tracker and remove it but you don’t have to become a murderer to protect her.” Tempting as it was in this case.

“Look, Spencer, I know we’re not friends but even you can let this freak kill me!” Trevor shouted.

Yes, Elliot could, but he wouldn’t. Not when the consequences could affect his girls.

Elliot tried to be persuasive and calm. “Kirsty would not want anyone to die, even a disgusting piece of human garbage like Trevor Gooden-”

“Hey, fuck you, Spencer.” Trevor spat out.

“Get in line, Gooden,” Elliot countered and then ignored the man in chains to address the captor. “Please. Consider how this would affect her.” Kirsty would be furious if anyone died in an ill-conceived attempt to protect her. “Let him go.”

The figure seemed to consider Elliot’s words and then nodded.“Whatever you say,” and started to release the chains.

Trevor screamed like a toddler when his face touched the water and Elliot shouted, “Not like that! Don’t drown him. Just release him. Please.”

The person shrugged again, then nudged the water tub out of the way with their foot before quickly letting the chains go. Trevor hit the ground in an undignified heap and the chains loosened enough for him to release himself. He tore the hooks out of his remaining clothes and threw them at Elliot and the figure in black. They missed of course and if the situation wasn’t so dire Elliot would have laughed.

Trevor scrambled unsteadily to his feet and reached for Elliot’s rake. “Give me that. I’m gonna ram it up this dickhead’s ass.”

Elliot held it out of his grasp and kept his tone commanding. “I think you should leave now, Trevor, while I can hold him off.” He pointed at the other man’s clothing. “You look like you lost a fight and he’s twice your size. Run while you can.”

Trevor looked like he wanted to argue but even though he was free he was still outmatched. Probably a coward as well. Gooden was the type of man who preferred to hide in the shadows to stalk women because he was powerless and cowardly. He was hardly the type to win against a larger opponent. Finally he fled, giving the chunky person a wide berth.

Once he was gone Elliot heaved a sigh and approached the person. Once they were close he reached out and booped them on the nose. “This was not the plan, poppet.”

*****

After Tiffany had returned everything she’d borrowed and they’d righted the potting shed, the two of them went to a small independent diner that served very good burgers and chips. They also had a rotating menu of original milkshake flavors and so Elliot decided to indulge in a chocolate cayenne shake while Tiffany had a white chocolate blackberry one. After the server had left their order and his number under Elliot’s glass, the two were left to talk.

Elliot brought the glass from his lips and drank from it. He never drank from a straw, too wasteful. Plus he didn’t want to look like an idiot when the liquid was too thick for the straw.

Tiffany had no problem looking like a fish on dry land and he tried not to smile at her. What she had attempted was dangerous for everyone involved.

He set down his glass and looked at Tiffany. “I had thought that we had a plan to deal with the Trevor problem.” He was trying to sound stern and angry but the faces she was making trying to suck her milkshake through a straw were funny. “We were going to act out our plan thoughtfully and only if he targeted her again.”

She nodded and looked a bit ashamed as she pushed her glass away. “What happened?” he demanded.

Tiffany sat straighter and looked him in the eye, not ashamed or regretful. Determined. “I swear I was gonna follow the plan.”

He must have looked skeptical because she hastily added, “I was! But…he went after me, Elli!”

Elliot froze and looked her over again. Her skin was pale, eyes opened wide and eyebrows raised. Her hands shook marginally and her pupils were dilated. She was afraid.

“Explain it to me,” his voice became gentle and he nearly reached out to comfort her but stopped when she flinched.

Tiffany nodded. “I wasn’t expecting him to come looking for me, but like I said, he put a tracker on Kirsty’s car.”

He frowned. “I thought your school had a security system, guards, and a closed-circuit camera system. I mean,” he shrugged, “it was highly touted in the pamphlet.”

She just shrugged. “My school is expensive but they spend money like it’s cheap. Most of the cameras are fakes just for show. Only one guard patrols the school and the other guys are sleeping or pretending to watch the cameras.”

“We’re being overcharged,” he muttered.

Tiffany continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “But everyone knows about the old potting shed and weak spots in the fence. So anyone could get on school grounds if they had any brains at all.” She took a deep breath. “And Trevor’s smart but lazy.” Maybe he found the weak spots in the fence by accident. Maybe he knew where to look.”

Elliot was beginning to wonder if Trevor had been stalking Tiffany as well, hoping the young girl was Kirsty’s weakness. He clearly needed to step up her self-defense training if people like Trevor were being so blatant. He didn’t think it was the time and clearly his poppet needed to talk.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I was on my way to the drama room because Mrs. Singer wanted me to help organize and pack up some old costumes. I heard Trevor’s voice and figured he thought he could get to Kirsty through me.”

Elliot once again felt anger and outrage sweep over him. Kirsty was a grown woman and he knew she could easily handle Trevor. Tiffany on the other hand was underaged and was ostensibly his responsibility, legally or morally. The fact Trevor had targeted his dau-his ward made him wish he’d broken the lad’s neck and damn the consequences. That tosser must be angry that Tiffany defended him and made him look like the fool he was in front of others.

“Um, Elli?”

Tiffany’s voice interrupted his murderous thoughts and he blinked, focusing on her. “Yes, poppet?”

She was pointing at his face and looked afraid. Afraid of him. “Your…eyes.”

She slid a makeup mirror across the table to him, letting go of it before his fingers could touch it. He opened it and looked at his reflection. He tried not to gasp out loud. His normally blue eyes had turned as black as they had been when he was a Cenobite.

Elliot closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm himself. After a few minutes he looked in the mirror again. Blue. Good.

He slid the mirror back towards Tiffany, who was also taking deep breaths to calm herself. “I…I didn’t know you could do that,” she stammered.

“Neither did I.” He thought for a moment and then said, “It must be an after effect of my…former occupation.” He looked across the table at her and said, “I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologized.

Tiffany shook her head. “I trust you.” She didn’t sound very convincing and said again, “I trust you, Elli. It was just a little bit of a shock, you know? Especially after today.”

He nodded and she continued her story. “Anyway, I heard him calling out for me. So I hid. When he was looking for me in the wardrobe trunks I doubled back around and hit him with a dressmaker’s dummy and knocked him out. Then I put him on a cart and wheeled him out to the potting shed. I figured no one would hear us out there.”

Elliot nodded in approval. He was very impressed with her improvisation. “Clever girl. Well done.”

She blushed under his praise and went on. “There were these bits of costumes from when they did a play about the Grim Reaper where the guy playing the Grim Reaper used a voice changer. There were also these construction stilts? To make the guy taller. They wanted the Grim Reaper to look seven feet tall and the guy was only five seven…”

He blinked in confusion and Tiffany could see she was losing her one person audience. “Anyway, I put on some padding and the costume pieces, grabbed a mask and the voice changer and decided I’d scare him into confessing to harassing Kirsty.” She waved her hands in a helpless gesture and sighed.

“But…” he prompted but she didn’t speak. “What happened, Tiffany?”

She spread her hands and gently slapped the table. “I don’t know! I mean, I found that tub but the pump outside wasn’t working right so I couldn’t fill it all the way. Plus,” she seemed exasperated. “He was heavier than I thought he’d be and even though I found some hooked chains and a pulley it was still really hard to pull him!” Tiffany sighed and looked at him. “I was debating whether or not I should just tie up the chains and leave him there to free himself when you showed up.”

Elliot raised his eyebrows and felt impressed despite himself. “It wasn’t a bad plan, just…went a bit mushy towards the end.” He gave her a disapproving frown. “You weren’t supposed to engage him, not alone. You should have barricaded yourself in a closet and texted me or Kirsty. We would have found you and you wouldn’t have endangered or incriminated yourself.”

Really, this could have ruined everything. Tiffany was very lucky no one saw her, even if Trevor would have gotten arrested for trespassing. They would have all been implicated; Tiffany would have been taken away, Kirsty’s past in a mental hospital would have been used against him and who knows what would have become of him. Studied, perhaps.

Still, he understood. She was afraid and panicked. He might have done the same thing at her age but it could have still gone horribly wrong. Trevor could have caught her or unmasked her and then blackmailed her into letting him get close to Kirsty. She could have died.

Tiffany could have died.

He shook his head to clear it. That was not something he wanted to contemplate and besides there was still something unsaid between him and Tiffany.

“I doubt anything would have developed between our Kirsty and Trevor,” he said after taking another sip of his milkshake. “Clearly he wasn’t her type. He was a cad who thought stalking and harassing a woman would make her turn to him for protection.”

“That’s incel behavior,” Tiffany said after taking a huge gulp of her milkshake. “Dude was not just sus, but entitled.”

“Er…yes,” Elliot understood most of that sentence. Then he said what he’d been reluctant to say, something he knew they had both been thinking. “But the next man might succeed.”

Tiffany’s face fell and he felt his heart drop into his stomach just saying the words aloud.

“Kirsty’s great,” Tiffany mumbled. “She’s pretty and smart and kind. Other guys besides Trevor have noticed and a few of them might not be creepers.”

They were silent, just sipping their beverages. Kirsty was the most “normal” in their little family. She could find proper love, build a real family or have a career she deserved. They could be left behind. Well, he would be. No sane husband would let a grown man like Elliot live under the same roof as his wife; he would be regarded as strange or competition. There was a slight chance he and Kirsty and whoever she married might be able to form a polyamorous relationship but he doubted it. Who wouldn’t want someone as wonderful as Kirsty all to themselves?

Tiffany would probably fare better. She was a sweet, clever girl and Kirsty saw her as a little sister. Elliot could easily imagine Kirsty telling anyone who wanted to marry her “love me, love my sister”. Tiffany would have a home until university at least.

Elliot and Tiffany looked at each other and shared a moment of understanding. A man from the past and a youngster from modern times shared a common fear; Kirsty leaving them behind. The family would become broken.

He impulsively grabbed Tiffany’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Kirsty would never abandon you. She loves you.”

That made her smile. “She loves you too.”

Neither of them said what they were thinking. For now.

*****

Two days later Tiffany and Elliot decided to enact their plan B. Well, it was originally Kirsty’s plan but they didn’t want her involved for now. She had a term paper due.

The first part of the plan called for Tiffany to nick Kirsty’s phone and send a message to the class group chat. She claimed she knew who the harasser was and decided to meet the person at a certain spot on campus at a certain time. She would show her evidence and give them a choice between having charges filed or leaving her alone and remaining anonymous.

Tiffany and Elliot waited on the outer edge of an unused fountain near the art building with beverages and snacks to keep them occupied as they watched for their quarry to arrive.

He did not disappoint. His predictability would be amusing in any other situation but he’d harassed their Kirsty and threatened Tiffany. Under the circumstances, they were being shockingly nice.

“Look, Kirsty, let me explain-” his whiny attempt to save himself was cut off and he glared at them. “Oh, it’s just you assholes.”

Tiffany fiddled when her phone then set it down to cover her ears. “Language!” she admonished Trevor with mock outrage. “There’s a child present!”

Elliot looked Trevor over. He was trying to be commanding and in control of the situation. Captain Spencer had survived four years of the bloodiest war fought in the past century and a half and had spent one hundred years as the high priest of Hell. Gooden’s attempts to dominate were laughable.

“Hello, Trevor,” he said after looking the other man up and down with an amused smirk on his face. “You seem none the worse for wear.” He crossed his legs and then put his hands on his knee. “You’re welcome by the way, for the rescue.”

Trevor just sneered. “A rescue I wouldn’t have needed if you hadn’t had your accomplice hit me over the head and chain me up.” He shook his head. “Where the hell did you find that guy anyway? Is he Kirsty’s ‘darling’ ?”

Elliot shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’d be much more interested-” he cut Trevor off before he could say anything. “-in what you were doing at a high school. Tiffany’s high school, to be exact,” he said with a nod at Tiffany.

“You were lucky Elliot didn’t report you and just let you go. I mean,” she shrugged, “you were trespassing on school grounds. He could have had you arrested, you know. Perverts these days.” She shook her head in mock disgust.

Trevor scoffed. “He was there too,” he jabbed a finger at Elliot. “So what does that make him?”

“Tiffany’s cousin and her guardian,” Elliot told him in a voice that could freeze boiling water. “I am both her emergency contact and an authorized pick-up person. You however are not.” He nodded at Tiffany. “She called me and asked her to pick her up because she thought someone was following her.”

Trevor opened his mouth a few times but nothing came out. He stared at the two of them who stared back. Their cold blue eyes and expressionless faces made them look very much alike at the moment and erased Trevor’s doubts. These two were definitely related. And united in their dislike of him.

He was afraid but couldn’t back down. “I’m wasting my time. You two clearly don’t know shit.”

He was about to leave, confident he had the last word when Tiffany spoke up. “Kirsty saw you.”

Trevor whipped back around. “What?!”

“She saw you at the mall buying a new phone from that friend of yours. Brent, right? According to the lady who works the pretzel stand, you’re there every few days buying a new phone.” Tiffany raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “She thinks you’re a dumbass who keeps losing your phone. Kinda suspicious.”

Trevor stopped and looked them both over. It was clear he was wondering how much either of them knew.

Elliot didn’t want to talk to this sod any more than he had to so he delivered the coup de gras. “We removed the tracker you put on Kirsty’s vehicle, Trevor.” He tsked as Trevor’s eyes widened. “Rather careless of you to leave fingerprints all over it.”

“That wasn’t me! Brent installed the damn thing! I thought he was gonna be careful-” he broke off as he saw the triumphant grins. He glared, knowing he was caught. Then he noticed Tiffany was playing with her phone again. “Are you recording me, you little bitch?!” She put her phone down her blouse and Elliot stood in front of her to keep Trevor away from her. Trevor backed away when he saw the deadly look on Elliot’s face but kept grinning.

“That’s illegal,” Trevor thought he had leverage. “You’re not supposed to record someone without their knowledge unless you’re a cop and have a warrant.”

“No it isn’t.”

Both men turned at the sound of the new voice. Tiffany peeked out from behind Elliot to look at the new person and smiled in relief.

Kirsty approached them. Her hair was a glorious halo of curls with the afternoon sun setting them alight behind her. The trench coat she wore over a patterned vest and tailored pants flared out behind her like a cape. Elliot was sure he wasn’t the only person staring at her.

Even Trevor swallowed several times before trying to speak.” “Kirsty-” he barely croaked out her name.

Kirsty smiled back but it wasn’t friendly. It was of a mountain lion who knew she had her prey trapped. “It’s not illegal to record someone without their consent in a public place if they are visible and audible, especially if they don't have reasonable expectations of privacy. I looked it up. It would only be illegal if we were somewhere private. Besides,” she held up her own phone. “Tiffany wasn’t recording you. She had her phone on speaker the whole time. “I, on the other hand, was recording you.”

Of course Trevor was so arrogant he thought he could somehow talk his way out of the situation. “Look, I’m sure you’re just confused about what you saw. I’m sure you just mistook me for someone else and it’s all just a huge misunderstanding.”

Kirsty rolled her eyes and ignored him, addressing Elliot and Tiffany instead. “And look at that! He’s even gaslighting me too. He actually thinks I’m dumb enough not to believe my own eyes. Or the tracker I took off my car. Good job incriminating yourself, Gooden.” She smirked at him. “And implicating your best bud? Way to throw him under the bus. I bet he’d tell the cops it was all your idea; both the tracker and the burner phones. All to cut a deal.”

Trevor sputtered. His strategy had failed. The woman he was after was not only not interested but could put his ass in a sling and send him to jail. That shithead she lived with and their baby bitch too, they’d planned all this together. He’d fallen into their trap.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Trevor.” Kirsty refused to let him talk. “You’re going to withdraw or transfer, I don’t care which, to another school out of state. You can tell everyone you had a family emergency or some shit, I don’t care. In exchange,” She talked over him. “Tiffany doesn’t tell her school about you trespassing and stalking her like a pervert. I don’t report the tracker and the harassing phone calls. And my dearest friend,” she smiled at Elliot and he nearly melted. “Won’t gut you alive and throw you in a vat of acid.”

“I never thought of acid,” Elliot smirked at the look of terror on Trevor’s face. Oh, how he missed his tools. Not that he needed them at the moment. Kirsty was a magnificent sword and shield.

Trevor made a last ditch effort to hurt them. “Oh yeah? Well, what if I went to Immigration about your dear friend here?” He was almost snarling. “I bet his visa’s about to run out. It’d be a shame if poor little Tiffany’s only family was deported.”

Tiffany nearly launched herself at him. “You bastard!” Elliot barely held her back. “Language, pet.”

Kirsty seemed unconcerned. “Eh, I could just marry him. Then he can get a green card and work on his citizenship.”

Trevor shook his head in disbelief. “A fake marriage? Really? This guy matters to you so much? He’s not even your real family.”

“He would be if we got married,” Kirsty reminded him. “And who said anything about a fake marriage?” She winked at Elliot, who couldn’t help but stare back as she pushed past Trevor to wrap one of her arms around Elliot’s waist and declare, “If I had a husband as charming and sweet as Elliot, I’d fuck him every day of the week and twice on Sundays.”

Tiffany started to cough in surprise. Elliot stared at Kirsty like a gormless idiot. “Er…thank you, my dear. I think.”

Kirsty laughed. “Hey, you might be a little older than me but that just means you know what you want and you’re ready to settle down. Nothing wrong with that.” Her hand slipped down and she pinched him lightly on the arse, making him yelp. “And there’s a lot to be said for experience.” She looked at Trevor with contempt. “Most guys my age couldn’t find the clitoris with a GPS.”

Tiffany fell off the edge of the fountain. They all turned to her as Elliot helped her to her feet. “I’m okay!” she let them know.

“Think about it, or prepare to have your life ruined, Trevor.” Kirsty’s tone was final. She looked at Tiffany and Elliot. “Time to go, fam.”

As they walked towards Kirsty’s car Elliot couldn’t help but say what he was thinking.

“Only twice on Sundays?”

Tiffany stumbled.

#kirsty cotton #hellraiser #domestic fluff #tiffany is their daughter/little sister #i don't know what i'm doing #badass family #captain elliot spencer

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