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starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

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HASO, “In the Ambience.”

Had a conversation on discord last night where I became aware that I left Sunny and Adam’s interactions at a place where it was sort of nervous and awkward. So thank you DZ for talking that through with me.

I am not really well versed in writing relationships, and I didn’t want it to overshadow the rest of my writing, so I pulled back from it, but I think I pulled back too hard. So if you care about the Sunny/Adam dynamic, I wrote a story this morning to acknowledge that. Hope you like it, and I hope you all have a great day.

She got up in the dark, with only the dim ambience of soft blue lighting to accompany her. She stretched all four arms, and rolled her neck. It struck her as mildly interesting in that moment, how something so small could connect them to humans, The thought was fleeting as she took another step forward to kneel down on the floor. There, in a little alcove in the wall, she had set a volcanic rock from Anin, dried moss, and other paraphernalia from her home world. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath resting her hands together.

Praise and respect to the spirits of Anin. Praise the fathers and mothers of war gone to their rest below the moss and the earth. Praise their spirits that watch from the sky and peer through the ether down upon us.

She continued the slow mantra in the style of Prayer learned from Naktan and pulled her concentration to her core ignoring anything and everything around her. A deep state of meditation overtook her. She would never have done this if she thought there were any chance that she was in danger, but below she knew Earth glowed like a sphere before their orbiting ship. There was no worry of invasion.

She thought she heard something at one point, but chose to ignore it as she continued her mantra.

Eventually, and after an unknown amount of minutes, she stood and turned slowly to find-

She stopped, and crossed her arms over her chest.

“What are you doing.”

Adam burrowed his way further down into her blankets nuzzling his head up against her pillow, “So warm, and comfy!”

She tried not to smile, “You dumbass.”

He pulled the blankets tighter around himself, “You know, I did come here to talk to you, but I actually really am comfortable, so come back in two hours.”

“I-”

He closed his eyes and pretended to snore loudly.

She rolled her eyes as she watched him theatrically pretend to sleep. She looked around mildly for a moment before picking up another pillow and glancing at the door. She casually walked over, dropped the pillow on his head and then held it down as if she intended to smother him.

That got him up and moving.

Before long the two of them were grappling for the upper hand, him trying to put her in a choke hold, and her using her lower arms to pinch him.

He yelped, “Ouch! Pinching is illegal.”

“SIssy.”

He clamped his legs around her lower arms pinning them in place. SHe struggled for a minute and then went limp.

SHe could feel his smug smile, “I win, I beat the saint of Anin. Everyone bow at my feet.”

“You say that, but if this were a real fight, you’re the one with a self destruct button.”

“Self-destruct button…?”

“Meaning if this were a real fight, I would have punched you in the balls.”

“Please don’t”

Finally he let her go, leaving the two of them to lay on her bed, sheets scattered on the floor around them, and her pillows in disarray. Adam put his hands behind his head and sighed.

She glanced over at him, “I don’t suppose you came to just hang out. Here on Admiral-ly business?”

He groaned pulling one of her pillows over his face, “Please smother me for real this time.”

SHe leaned up on one of her elbows, “Why?”

“I don’t wanna be an adult anymore,” She tilted her head to the side watching in amusement as he attempted to throw a childlike tantrum, but only really had the energy to kick his feet once, “It’s boring and lame and they wont let me wear heelies to important meetings…. Children don’t have to pay taxes.”

She laughed, pulling the pillow from his face, “Adam you are many things, but ‘adult’ is not one of them.”

He grinned slightly, “True enough.” He sighed again and rested his head back against the pillows, “I just want to get back to what we are supposed to be doing, exploring the universe and making cool alien friends.” He threw up his hands in frustration, “But Suddenly I find myself embroiled in stupid annoying politics that I don’[t understand, being used by people who are, lets face it, WAY smarter than me, constantly finding myself getting manipulated.”

She huffed, “They aren’t smarter than you Adam, they’re just manipulative, and you aren't.”

He sighed, “Fair enough.” Then he looked at her, bright green eyes reflecting the soft ambient blue light, “I just, I miss this, I miss us, I miss hanging out and doing stupid shit, and all of the things I could do when I wasn’t so important and this operation was smaller.”

She smiled rather sadly reaching one hand over for his, lacing the four of her fingers through the five of his, “Well someone has to do the hard things, who better than you.”

He glanced over at her raising an eyebrow, “Or you, miss saint”

She rolled her eyes again, “Can’t seem to get you off of that. I’m still the same person I used to be.”

“But with power.”

She elbowed him gently and he grinned, “But really, I am proud and impressed and…. Let's be honest super super smug that ‘I’ know you personally.”

“I know, I am pretty terrific.”

The two of them laughed for a minute before settling down again. He glanced over to her little shrine on the wall, “What were you doing just then?”

She looked up at the ceiling, following the lines of metal and rivets with her eyes, “Praying to the spirits of Anin.”

Embarrassed, he shifted, “I didn’t know you were….. Well I didn’t think you were all that religious?”

SHe shrugged, “Don’t feel bad, it’s sort of a new thing. Back before all this, it was sort of just stories to me. Like I believed it because that was what everyone believed, but I didn’t really accept it, or feel it the way I do now. After everything with my mother, it was hard to feel connected to something I felt I wasn’t a part of….. But then after visiting my mother, after becoming a saint for a religion I never really followed…. Well it started to make more sense. It feels real now in a way that it never did.” She turned to look at him, finding him watching her, the UV blue stripes in his skin glowing blue.

“I believe in the spirits of Anin more than I ever have.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand, “I’m glad to hear it.”

They lapsed into silence for a long moment staring up at the ceiling before, inevitably he broke it, “So this makes you like, space Moses.”

She frowned and turned to look at him, “What is a Moses?”

He grinned, “A guy from one of the Earth Religions. You know guy follows god’s directions to lead his people away from slavery, climbs a moutain, recieves the word of god, comes down to give it to the people, that sort of thing.”

Sunny tilted her head slightly to the side, “Are you religious?”

He paused, frowning, “I…. well I…. don’t really know. My family has been some flavor of Christian for a long time.”

“Christian?”

“Uh yeah, The general idea is that there is one all powerful deity who created everything. He has rules and laws that you are supposed to follow, The general tenants of this specific religion mostly boil down to, love everyone and don’t be a dick, which humans are notoriously bad at. You sin you go to hell, a very bad place after you die, and if you are a good person you go to heaven. Problem is everyone is a sinner and breaks the rules, so really no one was going to get into heaven.”

“That sounds bleak….”

“Well that's where the other stuff comes in. Basically this all powerful deity sent down his son in human form to live a perfect life, so when he was martyred he took on the sins of all of humanity and paid for them in the greatest act of mercy to open the gate for the rest of us into heaven.”

Sunny shifted as he tilted to the side to lay in the crook of her arms, “Of course that is just one religion among tons on earth, we aren’t really as cohesive in our beliefs as Drev are….. As for me…. I’m not really sure.”

She tilted her head to the side, cheek resting against his hair, “After seeing space, I become more and more convinced of some….. Thing that created everything, but beyond that it's sort of a tossup.”

She ran one hand through his hair, course but still soft somehow.

“You know my name comes from that religion.”

She turned her head to look at him, “Oh.”

“Adam was the first man.”

“WHat do you mean.:”

Adam shrugged, “He was supposedly the first man that god created, from the dust of the earth…. I think?”

She gave him a sidelong glance, “Look, and you get to be the first idiot in space.”

He snorted and poked her in the ribs.

“There were PLENTY of idiots in space before me, believe you me.”

“Mmm I don’t know, you are pretty dumb.”

He laughed, grabbing a pillow and hitting her with it. She rolled over so she was lying on top of him and then went limp.

He struggled, “Get your big ass off me.”

“Oh no, I have been attacked by a sudden acute case of the, my spine doesn't work anymore disease.”

“If you don’t move, you’ll suddenly find yourself with a case of fist in your face disease.”

She laughed and rolled off him, making su7re the hard parts of her carapace were sticking down for maximum discomfort.

He grunted.

They returned to lying down next to each other in the half darkness. Sunny reached over and turned on some quiet music in the background as the two of them sat and talked, and laughed.

“I can’t wait to get back to deep space.” He closed his eyes and hummed softly at the thought, “Just the crew and the darkness and nothing ahead of us but an endless frontier.”

Surprisingly, she found the thought to be more than a little comforting, and closed her eyes thinking about the vast reaches of blackness and the endless spinning galaxies.

“And while we are out we can drop Conn into a pulsar.”

He snorted,

“That billowy bastard would survive and you know it.”

She huffed, “Still though, if I have to hear one more smug lecture how he has a child with you, I’m gonna wring his scrawny neck.”

He grinned teeth flashing blue in the light, “Is someone;.... Jealous?”

Sunny laughed, almost tipping him off the bed and onto the floor with her mirth, “Yes Adam, I am totally jealous, really I am. I mean who wouldn’t want to have a child with YOU, big dumb, dork. Really the perfect place to put my superior genes.”

“Superior genes, says someone who can’t reach the top shelf.”

She kicked him foot clanging off his prosthetic, “I am a foot taller than you.”

He placed his hand next to his ear, “What was that, I can’t hear you over how short you are.”

Sunny shook her head, “At least I have binocular vision and both my knees.”

“And weird neck nostrils, don’t forget about those.”

“Oh yes so I can house them on my face like you and your bigass nose.”

“Low blow, low blow.”

“There are…. Lower things…. I could make fun of.”

He snorted, “Can’t make fun of it if you’ve never seen it. You on the other hand, walking around in the nude.”

“You’re welcome. Who wouldn’t love.” Sse gestured to herself, “This.”

“Mmm yes,.... chitin , very sexy.”

“I am a gift to the universe, and should be appreciated by everyone.” He brushed a hand through his hair, “Well I find that real gifts are gift wrapped, so jot that down.”

“Oh yeah, like a prank gift when you put something lame in a box for something cool.”

He frowned at her, “You wound me,. My feelings are so very very hurt. I might even cry.”

“I drink human tears.”

“That, that’s really gross.’

She laughed and then they lapsed into silence. She could hear him breathing quietly next to her in the darkness, his chest rising and falling under the ambient blue light. She looked across the room to where her saint armor was hanging in it’s climate controlled case illuminated to a pearly sheen.

“Adam.”

“Yeah.”

“You know I’m just kidding about calling you dumb riught.”

“Yeah I know.”

“I’m proud of what you’ve been doing.”

Adam turned to look at her rather incredulous, “Me, of what? I haven’t been doing shit.”

“So we are just going to ignore you overthrowing a maniacal politician while simultaneously piloting a 2,000 year old spacecraft?”

“That was more Conn and Eris than it was me,”

“It was your idea.”

“Lets not forget Admiral Kelly.”

Sunny pulled him closer, “I am sorry, I will not be accepting anything other than you acknowledging that you did a good job.”

“Screw you.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you.”

He sighed, “You’ve been talking to Ramirez WAY too much.”

She was only slightly smug as she rested her head back against the pillow, “I really should get up and train.”

“We should.”

Neither of them movies.

“Alternatively we could just…. Lay here…. All day and do… nothing .”

She looked up at the ceiling for a long moment and pretended to be in deep contemplation before “Well it’s official, you have convinced me. You and your silver tongue.”

“I am a master negotiator.”

He shifted position putting one arm behind his head, “Think about it, by this time tomorrow we will be back to space exploring and doing what we should have been doing all along. I can’t wait.”

“That makes two of us.”

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onepartbrave · 3 years

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an FYI ~

Without a doubt, I’ve been distracted from RP but I digress… I’ve also been dipping into fanficland, a Strifehart feels run being my first instalment yet to come.

A snippet below, I guess? I’m quite dubious when sharing as I sometimes feel I don’t get Squall just right, let alone other characters… ergo, this leap of faith? Eh. Enjoy what will come, I guess?

Brief synopsis; Cloud is a werewolf that lives in the world of FF8. Other characters will appear, but for now, Strifehart mains~

In the beginning, not all was well. Those born from extraordinary circumstances – “Mythics” – were scorned, exiled from belonging in any place of man due to their collective (misplaced) fear; of not knowing what they might do, despite not knowing what they might not do.

Long, tedious battles took place, sometimes figuratively, mostly physically, until one fateful day, a breakthrough finally happened. One man, known among mankind as a hero of their time, used his influence over the world to fight for them, and he fought fiercely for their rights as living beings to survive and thrive with everyday people.

Vampires, once feared through centuries of misrepresentation and slander, strolled about in broad daylight, dressed head-to-toe in protective gear, specialised to deflect the life-threatening UV rays. Werewolves, once thought of as nothing but mindless monstrosities carrying an uncontrollable, infectious disease, walked among the public without fears of being ruthlessly hunted. Fairies, demons, pixies, sirens – so many Mythics roaming freely for, potentially, the first time in their lives.

Squall Leonhart was, for lack of a better term, fed up.

Why, one might inquire? Simply put, in the outskirts of Winhill, he’d purchased a luxuriously large plot of land and set up a homely ranch-slash-house for himself. The final decision to settle down in the middle of nowhere was partially due to the beautiful scenery, mostly from the unrivalled privacy and his overwhelming need to stay out of the limelight to enjoy his reluctant retirement. On the land roamed a few dozen chickens, some cows, a random goat or two, and a grumpy old chocobo that wandered in one day and stayed, allegedly liking what she saw (and whom he’d fondly named Chocorita – he wasn’t great at naming things, sue him).

In the solitude of Winhill and the mountains, he’d expected peace. For the first time in his life, he wanted to take it slow, to relax and maybe take up a boring hobby that kept him off his feet (just as the doctor prescribed, ugh). Instead, anywhere he went, he got chaos. Destruction, mayhem, calamity, regardless of how minor or extreme. Natural, man-made and in-between, there was no way to escape his horrendous luck.

Such was what had him out of bed at an ungodly hour one morning, standing in nothing but fraying-at-the-edges pyjama pants and worn out boots in long need of replacing, staring in utter disdain and absolute exasperation at his hen house… that was currently being ravaged by a gigantic, rugged as heck, wolf. Flashlight pointing directly at the offending creature, which halted on the spot like a deer caught in headlights the moment the beam landed on its furry hide, unblinking eyes on Squall as he glared back his unrelenting disgust.

Why. Just why.

“…I use these for eggs!” he howled, agitation and exhaustion (with everything) winning over any common sense warning him to back away from the potentially dangerous beast, waving his only viable weapon of a flickering flashlight at the frozen mongrel. Who, to his complete surprise, dropped the feathery carcass like the soft exterior burned and fucking scampered away in (what he could only describe as) unbridled terror, wispy tail tucked firmly between long legs. Silence crept in around Squall, apart from the occasional chirping cricket, as he stared in the direction the wolf fled, trying to process what just happened.

After a moment of further consideration, he shook his head roughly, forever in his way hair falling over his face as he clapped a palm to it, running it down while groaning in defeated frustration. Miles and miles of forest teeming with wildlife just as easy to catch, plus neighbouring placements just a few clicks out, and… it was still him that was ransacked. Hand lowering, noticing the flashlight beam gradually dimming, he deemed it time to call it a night. One wearily curious glance after the thieving mutt was all he spared before turning on his heel and wobbling his way back inside to the persistent light and welcoming aircon.

He’d deal with the chickens come sunrise.

Come morning, a more reasonable morning, someone had the nerve to knock loudly on Squall’s front door. With his establishment being all ground floor, noises travelled quickly and efficiently. Thus, obnoxious banging woke him from a restless sleep despite his bedroom being in the furthest corner away from the main hall. Blissful silence occurred briefly, his pounding head welcoming the peace, before it was rudely interrupted with, yet again, more incessant knocking. It seemed his unwanted visitor wasn’t giving in.

Groaning lowly to himself, Squall’s right arm raised and flew to cover his eyes, knowing full well if he were to open them immediately, he’d be temporarily blinded by radiant sunshine. Despite having blinds that supposedly repelled sunlight, he still woke most mornings by an impish beam to the face. One of the wonderful things about living in Winhill was the endless sunshine, but it was also one of the worst. Contemplating his next move while gingerly stretching out tender limbs, he barely refrained from growling aloud in annoyance when more knocking came.

He was going to deck whoever it was VIP status (Laguna) or not (Seifer).

Grudgingly, he removed his arm and squinted his eyes as they slowly peeled open, pre-emptively braced. Lightly shaking off the familiar numbness filtering in from his left leg, Squall sluggishly pushed himself up and to the edge of his bed to sit. Running a hand through his hair while the other provided a sturdy support as he leant back, he didn’t care to stifle the bothersome yawn momentarily clouding his mind. Scratching an itch to the rear of his skull, he blinked his eyes a few more times before he was ready to combat nature’s wakeup call.

Or fates, if the knock, knock, knocking was any implication.

“Yeah, yeah… on my way,” he mumbled to none as he forced himself up. Wavering slightly to start, he used the headboard to help stabilise his equilibrium. Taking a moment to ensure his balance was up to par, he surged on with murderous intent. Well… more like waddled on like an angry duckling – he doubted anyone would take him seriously with an unfortunate case of bedhead (fluffy, sticking up everywhere, untameable; he’d tried, trust him) and wearing only pyjama pants with a hole in the left knee. Muttering darkly to himself as he marched onward, soft carpet beneath his feet turned into solid wood, one click sounding for every two steps he took. Obviously, he’d forgotten socks in his eagerness to return to bed last night.

Finally, he reached the front door, solid wood slash metal with a singular, one-way peephole embedded and grabbed the slick metal handle, twisted the key to unlock and all but yanked the thing open like it caused him great offence. Not the door at least, but the one standing on the opposite side had. “What’s your goddamn problem…?!” Squall fired out instantly, although some of the ferocity died down by his fourth word at seeing who was there.

A man, possibly around his age, with hair worse than his own sticking up all over the place (platinum blond, didn’t look dyed – cute), skin pale enough to suggest he’d never seen sunlight, let alone been outside in it and the brightest blue eyes Squall had ever seen staring at him widely, looking oddly innocent despite being stuck to a grown adult… and oddly familiar. If only to add to Squall’s ludicrous attraction to the man, a rosy tint overtook definitely illegal cheekbones and the man, who’d been staring relentlessly, dropped his adorable gaze bashfully and rambled under his breath.

Squall struggled to hear, features automatically down turning into something reminiscent of a scowl. His unfortunate visitor caught the look and perceived it to be for him, rather than Squall’s lacklustre hearing. “I—I’m sorry for the early morning call but I couldn’t wait any longer. My name’s—uh, Cloud Strife, and I, I’m your new neighbour,” he, allegedly Cloud, said, rather rapidly and in a tone that suggested questionable embarrassment and… guilt? “I happened to be passing by when I figured it—it’d be neighbourly to give you a welcoming present—” Wait, wasn’t that supposed to be the other way around? Squall was becoming more puzzled by the second, yet he continued to watch the blond ramble. “—so, I, I have something. For you. If you want them?”

When Cloud concluded his introduction, Squall simply stared. Blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes with the palm of a hand to ensure that yes, he was awake, and yes, there was potentially the cutest blond idiot babbling on his doorstep just after sunrise. Said blond peek at him coyly through his bangs and Squall’s heart skipped a beat.

Well, at least he knew his eyesight was still functioning well.

“I… sure?” he replied, more of a question than a response, but it seemed to suit Cloud’s expectations perfectly.

His neighbour hopped to attention and beckoned Squall over with enthusiastic waves of his whole arm, looking him up and down when he suddenly stopped. In an instant, Squall’s guard rose as he watched where that sky-blue gaze fell, hackles instinctively prepared. A heartbeat past and… Cloud simply shook his head and said, “Sorry, shoes—I’ll let you put on some shoes.”

And that expelled any suspicion Squall held over that inquisitive gaze. If he hadn’t caught himself, he would’ve expressed a small smile at the blond’s antics. He blamed his messed-up sense of defence and common sense on his lack of sleep. Making to abide by Cloud’s reasonable suggestion, he slid his sockless feet into his trusty boots, left one stiffer than the right, and grabbed a jacket from the hooks by the door. Pulling on the coat to make himself at least semi-decent, he stepped outside into the already harsh warmth of the summer sun and joined Cloud’s side. Who had waited for him in the exact position he’d stopped in and not another glance was thrown downwards to Squall’s feet.

He didn’t know whether to be impressed by someone’s apparent self-control or see if he couldn’t torment the man for looking in the first place. The sassier, snappier side of him wanted anyone that stared to suffer first-hand mortification, but somehow, Cloud slipped by and made his way to the ‘simply impressed’ side.

Following his energetic neighbour to wherever he deemed necessary, Squall took the opportunity from lingering somewhat behind to check him out. A faded-check shirt was atop a sleeveless black tank-top, black combat pants with thick-soled biker boots, and twin (again, you guessed it) black fingerless gloves shielding strong-looking hands. Screw his hands, when they stopped by a monstrous, fucking fantastic motorcycle parked just off the driveway, Cloud’s shirt sleeves pulled up when the blond lifted something that had been secured to the rear of the bike and Squall saw jaw-dropping muscle definition on his arms alone.

Silently, the gremlin part of his brain prayed for gale-force winds to suddenly whip up and rip the clothes from his neighbour’s body so Squall could check out the rest of him. Decisively, he ignored it.

What was impossible to ignore was the crate Cloud was carrying, filled with… chickens? Improbable as it seemed considering the already perplexing introduction, Squall found himself feeling off-balance on how to respond or what to respond with. Why on earth was Cloud presenting hens to him? It seemed absurdly coincidental that he lost such birds the night before to the foul mutt… Stormy eyes squinted at still-radiating-innocence blue and popped his right hand on his corresponding hip. “…Do you have a dog?”

Weirdly, Cloud fumbled with the crate at Squall’s legitimate question, the wooden box and livestock inside nearly falling directly onto booted feet. Immaculate reflexes avoided disaster, though the same couldn’t be said for the man himself. “Dog?” was Cloud’s inquiring reply as he straightened up, voice going oddly high-pitched as though he felt targeted by Squall’s suspicion… which he was, he supposed, and the given reaction wasn’t helping Cloud’s case. “No—no, I have no animals. Why?”

He studied Cloud in brief silence, offering a meek shrug soon after, hand falling from its perch back to his side. “No reason.” And now back to the topic at hand: “Why have you brought me chickens?” And why would you think I need any, his mind finished for him. Patiently, he waited.

Cloud toyed with his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flicking everywhere but Squall. Almost like he struggled to think of a valid reason. Shady… In the moment of muteness, Squall’s focus shifted to the sleek machine stationed just behind them. The coat was midnight-black and shimmered in the sunlight majestically. Thicker than most two-wheelers he’d seen in his lifetime, potentially heavier from the additional compartments his keen eyesight made out, and two front wheels instead of the usual one… Simply put, it was a work of art and Squall was yet to find any piece of machinery he couldn’t wholly admire. Wonder what it’s like to ride…

“I—I noticed you have a ranch and figured you could never have too many chickens.” If that wasn’t the lamest excuse Squall had heard in a long while… and he was friends with both Rinoa and Selphie. “So—take them?”

Earnest blue eyes practically begged him, and the box was shoved his way suggestively, Squall’s answer was simple. He hadn’t the heart to tell the allegedly generous man ‘no’. “…Fine,” he sighed, growing instantly pensive when Cloud beamed – like he was doing the blond a favour by taking the hens. Were they infected or something? “Bring them this way,” he continued quietly, jerking his head in the direction of the main coop. Since he was already holding it, why not make use of Cloud a little longer? “I didn’t see you move in,” he commented as they began to walk, the blond keeping pace with his slightly stunted one.

If Squall was to describe the stream of expressions that flitted over Cloud’s face in the next moment, he’d be there all day. The blond chose to settle on sheepishness with a matching smile. “It was a quick overnight thing… didn’t have much to unpack,” Cloud murmured, keeping his eyes facing forward to avoid further contact with Squall’s.

Everything about him set off warning bells inside Squall’s mind but he couldn’t make heads or tails of what or why. Was it due to his own reclusive nature and the fact he’d evaded human interactions as much as realistically possible over the last few months, that simple conversation with new people was putting him on-guard? Too mindful over what everyone thought about him now? Shiva, he needed to get a hobby other than overthinking. Fat lot of help it was in the past.

Thankfully, Cloud neither glanced his way to assume Squall’s souring mood was his fault or commented on the silence dragging between them as they strode on. It was only when the wooden hutch was in sight that Squall recalled last night’s problem – deceased chickens all over the place. Great, now Cloud would assume he was a disturbed maniac that feasted upon the flesh of the poor birds that had been ripped apart –

Stopping suddenly in his tracks, Squall stared openly at the area surrounding his hen house. Cloud also paused, eyes sweeping up in an inquisitive manner, but voiced nothing. Again, he was grateful for the blond’s apparent love of silence because he wouldn’t know what to say as the entire ground was clean. No residue blood, no scattered feathers, no messy carcasses – hell, it looked like someone had swept the floor, too. Picking apart his brain for plausible solutions to the glaring problem encountered, he came up empty and his only reward was undiluted bewilderment.

Eventually though, Cloud broke the silent treaty and asked, quite reasonably, “Is, uh, everything okay?”

Surprisingly speechless, Squall turned his head to bring the virtuous blond into view, who was genuinely asking from misguided concern about his wellbeing. But… what could he honestly say? ‘Oh, yesterday there was numerous bodies littering the floor and now they’ve miraculously gone!’ Pfft, not likely. Flicking out his tongue to swipe along his bottom lip (noting idly how blue eyes seemed to follow the motion), he finally nodded and resolved to not telling the truth. “Phantom pains,” he said shortly, hoping the tone of voice dissuaded further questions. Luckily, Cloud complied but dropped his gaze out of apparent embarrassment again and Squall felt his chest squeeze. He hated feeling guilty. “Happens all the time, don’t worry about it.”

Hopeful eyes raised to greet his and Squall determined that shade of blue to be illegal now. Everything about Cloud was illegal. “I—I understand,” Cloud said, nodding in sincere comprehension, hefting the crate a little higher. “Should I just set this down and free them, or…?”

Right, the chickens. Squall nodded once. “Yeah, free roaming and all that.”

“’N all that,” Cloud echoed with a faint smile, placing the box gently on the (clean!) floor. Nimble fingers worked over the latches holding the front plate on and a second later, three golden birds scooted out, interested in their newfound freedom and unfamiliar surroundings. He watched Cloud watch them closely, like he was wishing for the hens to accept their new home without complications. Seemingly, it was granted as all three clucked and shot off towards the coop, fluttered up the ramp and out of sight through the swinging door. He smiled, looking up at Squall from where he crouched. “They seem to like it here.”

Squall’s brain was apparently malfunctioning and his brain-to-mouth filter broke, as the next moment after nodding in agreement to Cloud’s statement, he spewed out, “I think you would too if you wanna join me for coffee?”

An awkward pause ensued. While Squall wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole (like it apparently did to his poor chickens), Cloud, rightfully so, stared as him like another head just popped out of his shoulder. Dazed blue eyes blinked a few times while the blond visibly contemplated his next move, or words. He, being the gentleman he was, figured it was only fair to give Cloud a way out and opened his mouth to withdraw the offer with as much nonchalance as he could mister, but Cloud beat him to it.

A slight raise of a shoulder and an uncertain but curious smile sketched onto his face, murmuring, “We could go to the town—I do need a guide and I’m sure there’s a café somewhere.”

Squall paused. Cloud was not only accepting his pre-morning-coffee suggestion but was entertaining further interaction with his lunatic of a neighbour. It was impossible that he’d made a good impression so early, so the simplest deduction was Cloud being masochistic and liking the pain that came alongside social interactions with hermits like himself. Raising a hand to ruffle the hair waving in his face, he ignored the background clucks of his regular hens coming over to inspect the ground for food (since he was out and provider of said nutrients), eyed Cloud with a weariness that came naturally to him and, beyond all reason, nodded his agreement. “Alright. I’ll be ready in five.”

Promptly, he made his way back to the front of the house. Once there, he glanced back slightly over his shoulder and queried, “My truck or your bike?”

Cloud, who tailed him closely like a lost puppy, lit up the yard with the smirk he sent Squall. “Bike—unless you can’t handle it.”

Squall’s eyes narrowed in playful challenge. Not that anyone outside his inner circle knew what it looked like. “Five minutes, Strife.”

“A second past that and I’m assuming you’ve backed out—uh,” Cloud paused midway into his retaliation and Squall realised he was yet to introduce himself. With a slither of awkwardness, the blond found an interesting patch on the floor to stare at, apparently incapable of asking a simple question.

Squall decided to put Cloud out of his misery. Almost. “Leon.”

It was daft how adorable it was when Cloud perked up at the revelation. He nodded, quirking him a half-smile. “Leon—tick tock.”

Squall huffed in earnest astonishment from his neighbour’s audacity (and the depth of shock he was feeling at how well they hit it off) and hobbled his way back inside at a quicker pace than his norm. Efficiency was a skill he possessed, as was haste without magic being involved. Kicking off his yard boots and shrugging off the outdoor jacket on the way to his room, he wondered on whether Cloud carried a spare helmet with him for such happenstance that strange neighbours agreed to tagging along with his wild journeys. Entering his bedroom, he yanked open the closest door and pulled out the thickest pair of jeans he owned and SeeD-issued combat boots. Nudging the door shut with a hip, he dumped them on his bed before beelining for his drawers. Retrieving underwear from the top drawer, he dug out a plain old shirt from the middle one – those were dumped on the bed too.

Briefly, he wondered about the state of his hair but shrugged it off – it’d be underneath a helmet, who cared? Wriggling off the pyjama pants (whoops at going commando to greet his neighbour for the first time), he dressed himself while keeping a flickering gaze on the bedside clock to watch the time. Three minutes and twenty-two seconds later, he was adequately dressed and ready to go. Theoretically. For a moment, he questioned where his mind had gone and what replaced it to make him so whimsical. Uncaring in the end, he shrugged off such thoughts at hearing the starting rumble of the alluring thing awaiting him (the bike was pretty neat too).

Finally, Squall moseyed on to the front door again, picking up his trusty leather jacket along the way. Too often he’d been teased (or ridiculed) about the fur adorning the lining, but fuck those guys, he liked being warm, thank you very much. Pulling said jacket on as he exited his condo, grabbing keys, wallet and his cell phone along the way, bitter warmth greeted him already but he paid it no heed at the sight he was blessed with – Cloud straddling the beast, a pair of goggles sitting atop of blond spikes, arms crossed and peering at him with… clear admiration and perhaps a hint of amusement.

Locking the front door with a snort, Squall then pointed the sharp enough key (to get his point across) at the blond, and said, “Not one word about the jacket, Strife.” A raised brow was his response. His own eyes narrowed. “I mean it.”

Cloud raised his hands in a show of mock surrender and then lowered the goggles to shield his eyes. “No words said.”

Squall nodded in approval while making his way over, studying the sleek machine. Obviously, his choice seat was behind Cloud, although it seemed it would be a tight fit for two grown adults. So what. Steeling his determination, he gritted his teeth and, after bracing himself on Cloud’s shoulder, swung his right leg over the bike to attain his seat. Unfortunately, it applied unnecessary pressure to his bad leg and a bolt of pain lanced through him. He went rigid and a concerned look shot over the shoulder he just leaned on.

“I’m fine,” Squall growled out, a low warning poorly concealed within the words. Giving himself a minute to settle and for his head to stop pounding, he breathed in and out steadily, and then sighed. Only when he impulsively ran a hand through his own hair did he realise something critical: “Where’s your helmet?”

A gleam came into blue eyes and Squall felt slight trepidation in his choice. “No helmet. Hold on tight.”

The engine roared to life as Cloud twisted his right hand and Squall instinctively grabbed onto what was closest: Cloud’s jacket – procured from where, Squall didn’t know, but could certainly appreciate. Not a second later, they were tearing up Squall’s driveway, dust clouds and debris kicking up behind them as wheels scrambled for purchase. Before long rubber kissed tarmac and Cloud released the clutch, twisted the throttle, leaned forward and really started to move. The bike shot off like a rocket and Squall could only hold on for dear life, vice-grip on Cloud’s sides being switch for the more secure looping around his waist, face buried into the back of Cloud’s jacket, heart racing as fast as the vehicle he’d willingly jumped on, idly wondering if he’d make it out alive.

Exhilarating was too tame a word to use in description for the feel of wind whipping his hair about. The sheer amount of fresh air hitting his throat when finally releasing the breath he’d been holding nearly made him choke (and he lived in the mountains already). Eyes watering immediately when he attempted to open them to view the rapidly passing countryside, he chose to keep them jammed shut, listening to the roar of the engine whenever Cloud accelerated and the pounding of his own heart that felt was about to leap out of his chest.

Now to say Squall had lived a lively, fast-paced life so far would be a gross understatement, but there was something so utterly terrifying, yet breathlessly freeing, about riding so recklessly with a gorgeous stranger he’d just met.

Liberating.

#Strifehart #WIP fic #ooc.#I really like the concept of this one and wanna finish it #but time???#what is this eheh

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foradecision · 3 years

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‘ the agony of my feelings allowed me no respite; no incident occurred from which my rage and misery could not extract its food. ’ — mary shelley ; frankenstein.

HARRAN COUNTRYSIDE, DAY 175 ; 14:56:23.

“— goddamn it. of course.”

the tank is dry, nothing but stale air coming through the siphon hose. same as the last one. same as the last dozen fucking vehicles he’d checked, gutted, stripped, and abandoned, up and down this fissured backroad to nowhere. from nowhere. this whole place is nowhere.

a thin line of trees borders the gravel to his left, curtaining the wide spread of empty fields like a patchwork quilt. farmland, mostly. dead and disused. to his right, past the scrub, the ground slopes gently downward to a rock - lined creek. there’s a spitting toad nearby; he can hear the guttural heave of its bloated throat from here.

distantly, high up on a cliffside, an eagle’s cry goes unanswered.

the creek is tempting. he’s tired. sore. filthy, to the point where it’s getting to be a concern. where, if he were to walk up to the gates of jasir’s place looking the way he does right now, they might mistake him for a zombie and shoot him on sight. threadbare amusement curls the edges of that chasm in his chest, just for a second: then it’s gone again.

leaving his buggy where it’s parked, fishtailed at the road’s grassy shoulder — useless, gas gauge riding on empty — crane hangs a right and heads for the water.

a bolt is loosed from his crossbow. the toad falls before it can hit him with an acid burn. there’s a scar on his neck from the last time, an inch or so of rougher tissue that runs above the line of his collar.

he does a quick scan of the shoreline. two or three biters linger maybe a hundred yards away, but they haven’t noticed him. they’re slow. far enough that he’ll see them long before they get too close.

fuck it.

he unloads his gear. strips off gloves, vest, boots; clothing peeled from his skin layer by layer until he’s bare except shorts and the grime - caked chain around his neck, dog tags sticking to his chest. one set, of the two he was issued. deanna has the other set.

no. no goodbyes.

no goodbyes. just hold onto ‘em for me.

it’s a freshwater creek; murky and tinged green with algae, but clean. uncontaminated. he wades out until he’s waist - deep, takes a breath, and dives beneath the surface. the shock of cold wakes him up like a rush of adrenaline. he stays under until he can’t, and then he stays a few seconds more. when he comes back up, there’s a clarity to it: a sharpness to his senses, focused as the finely whetted edge of a knife. he swims again to the shallows and starts to wash.

this is day ten, since the others returned to the slums. since they’d chased a clue given to them by a dying man delirious with fever. since their last - ditch, desperate search for a cure had come up empty and every move he’d made leading up to it — everything they’d done, everything they’d lost — slipped through his fingers like fine sand. he couldn’t face them. none of them. couldn’t stomach the thought of going back, of walking into the tower to tell lena and brecken and everyone else that it was all for nothing. he just needed time. that’s what he’d said. just a little time to work through it all, get it straight again in his head. camden was still working, sure. still holed up in old town in a lab littered with corpses. he’d hit some kind of breakthrough, but his labors since then hadn’t borne fruit. bad samples. limited testing material. crane doesn’t understand the science of it. what he understands is that a month after that radio call, people keep getting sick. people keep turning. people keep dying.

crane, why do you even give a fuck what happens to these people? you don’t belong here! this is just a job for you!

no. not anymore it’s not.

there’s no contract now. no mission objective. no target. there’s just him, and them, and a long stretch of nothing.

this is day ten.

the afternoon sun hikes steadily across the cloudless sky. six hours ‘til nightfall. he fills his canteen, redresses, gathers his gear. shuffling footfalls and the solitary groan of a biter drifts downwind towards him. a pause, mid - step. a glance over his shoulder.

she trips up the slope as she tries to follow. he doesn’t glance at her again.

there’s a gas station up the road, beyond the fields and half a klick east of the creek. a ten minute walk without interruptions. all told, he makes it in less than fifteen. the pumps are a no - go, but he finds enough fuel left in a semi and a rusted jeep to fill his jerrycan two thirds of the way. gnats hum in his ears as he cuts through the tree line and he’s sweating again by the time he returns to the buggy. fucking gnats. fucking heat.

fucking harran.

the buggy itself is a battered thing. mesh and steel, spikes up front, hood rigged with electrical cylinders to fry at the push of a button. UV lights mounted to a protective cage around the single seat. at some point, the paint job was blue. it’s lost under a spattering of mud and streaks of dust, blood in varying shades: dark brown to copper to fresh sprays of red. she’s not quiet, and her suspension’s been shot halfway to hell since he flew off that overpass near the train tracks, but she’s solid. fast. decent off - road traction, even through the roughest terrain. she gets the job done.

crane turns the keys in the ignition. a loud, vibrating rev, a scrape of tires against gravel. behind him, the biter from the creek makes a clumsy lunge for the vehicle’s rear. he leaves her in the dust and drives.

he’s been doing a lot of that. driving. maybe he missed it. maybe he likes the solitude, except for that ribbon of isolation that runs through him constantly like a wound spreading poison. no: what draws him is something else.

static crackles through the radio hooked to his dash.

“kyle, can you hear me?”

the skip of his heartbeat drops back to a dull rhythm. he should have known better. communication between here and the slums is shaky on a good day, worse down here behind the mountains.

“yeah, bilal, i hear you.”

“i’ve got the parts to fix your ride, if you want to come by and let me take a look.”

“she’s doin’ fine for now.”

“you sure? it’s no trouble. hell, i can probably have her running again by —”

“yeah, listen, i’ll stop by tomorrow, alright?” he says it without the intent to follow through on it.

“whatever you say, brother. hey — don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“sure thing.”

he ends it there. veers left to avoid an upended van and a spill of toxic waste. doesn’t correct to avoid clipping the biter crouched over a strewn mess of gore, greedily devouring someone’s remains. or several someones. the buggy jumps a little. his expression stays as unmoved as if he’d just bucked over a speed bump or a pothole.

the sun is behind him now, dipping westward.

he drives.

it’s beautiful out here, in its own right. the kind of place he might’ve visited by choice, before, when the world wasn’t like it is now. the road unspools behind him, twisting south towards the dam. he hears the water before he sees it. rushing noise off to the right. he doesn’t stop. keeps going past the turnoff and down a winding side - road until he pulls over onto a patch of asphalt that used to be a small parking lot. a couple of vehicles, a truck, a trailer hitched to a hatchback with luggage piled high. he’s checked them all before. cleaned out the bags and the gas tanks, salvaged what parts he could from under their hoods. there’s a single building, a two - story cottage converted to a restaurant converted to a safe house, UV bulbs strung along the balcony railing like christmas lights.

past it, where the road dips into a curve, the open maw of a half - collapsed tunnel is just visible beyond the scattering of trees and abandoned cars, biters meandering listlessly in the afternoon heat.

four hours.

he parks the buggy and climbs up to the balcony, barricading the door once he’s inside.

no one uses this place. that’s why he’d picked it. quiet, deserted, off the beaten path. no one uses it because of its proximity to the tunnel. deep within the reeking darkness, volatiles nest and thrive. they prowl too close after nightfall. no one wants the risk.

no one except crane.

the note was pinned up on an old door used as a bulletin board at jasir’s farm. warning people away from the area, to steer clear at any cost. during the day, the hive is full. they only scatter when darkness falls, emerging to hunt, to feed, to roam the countryside freely and without borders. that’s what he’s counting on.

but there’s a trick to it. something he discovered — stumbled upon — when he went looking for sabit and found a nest instead. volatiles can breed. they’re not made exclusively through the natural evolution of the virus, but nor do they procreate in a traditional sense. hive mother is the closest comparison he can make: sentient creatures within the hives that somehow trigger the mutation. again, it’s a science he doesn’t fully understand. he knows the logistics. he knows enough. destroying those things stops the spread.

kill the beating heart, and you kill the beast.

he hefts his duffel bag onto one of the tables and unzips it, a side pocket where a tightly - wrapped pouch is nestled within the folds of a spare shirt. inside, a medical injector and tool slots that used to house five vials of antizin. the final vial is loaded into the injector. the shot is quick. practiced. another four days bought on the calendar; beyond that, the pages are blank.

it should worry him more than it does.

after he checks the alarm on his watch, crane moves to the sleeping bag unrolled on the floor and lies down fully clothed. he’s trained himself to fall asleep like he’s stepping off a curb. no thought, just muscle memory.

four hours, then he can go.

dreams are less muscle, all memory. he sees them every time: living faces turned to dead ones turned to taunting, hungry ghosts. children screaming. a little girl and then a little boy, the plush yield of a bloodstained teddy bear under the tread of his boot. you can’t go yet, i thought of a name!

someplace safe.

the monsters are gone.

semper fi, marine.

residual hallucinations blend seamlessly, threading sepia and bronze through the black and mottled grey, the arterial red. jade’s voice brushes the threads like a hand searching for fever; soft, then bleeding, then telling him to let her go, and then jade isn’t jade, she’s deanna, and she isn’t saying let her go — she’s saying let go.

no goodbyes, remember?

make it count.

you don’t know what suffering is.

there’s an old ache just under the hook of his left clavicle. a starburst of pain sings sharply outward with the waking breath he sucks in, then pushes back out. he presses the heel of his right hand against the scar from rais’ dagger, the one he didn’t dodge fast enough. that’s a running theme. not fast enough. not soon enough. not enough. his other hand lifts, wrist tipping, as the digital numbers on his watch go from 20:59 to 21:00.

he cuts the alarm.

night out here sounds nothing like night in the slums, or in old town. there, it’s all infected moans, wind rippling through tarps and rustling trash; it’s all crackling fires and the creak of scaffolding, clangs of metal as virals throw aside manhole covers to scrabble out into the streets.

here, it’s quiet. crickets chirp, cicadas chitter and hum. an owl hoots from somewhere in the trees off to the right of the cottage.

he waits by the balcony door until he hears them passing by. ragged, growling breaths. heavy steps. they come out of the nest in droves but then they scatter. then they fade into the dark.

crane hops the railing and heads toward the tunnel’s waiting mouth.

years ago, on the ground in fallujah, he led a stealth mission of five other marines to infiltrate a hostile - run outpost at the city’s downtown core. tactics he relied on then to evade detection are called back on now. he stays low. hugs the shadows. mindful of every move, every breath, every beat of his heart. the first biter he kills doesn’t have the time to react. he snaps its neck, fast and clean. drags it off into the cover of the trees and slices a deep line across its swollen belly. then a second line, stem to stern.

bandanna tightly secured over his mouth and nose, he reaches gloved hands inside the wound and begins to cover himself in gore.

the smell is overpowering. sour and almost chemical, thick with rot, seeping through the fabric. but overpowering is the entire point. dahlia claimed she had a magic potion to move amongst infected, to blend in; everyone thought she was crazy. so did he, or delusional at the least — until she’d asked him to gather what she needed to make more tincture. one whiff of those mushrooms, and he understood.

she didn’t have a magic potion. she just knew which plants were odorous enough to mask the scent of living flesh.

and if that worked, crane figures this will too.

three measured strides into the tunnel confirms it. the biters don’t turn. don’t react at all. he passes them in silence, a chameleon, unnoticed and undisturbed. this is the easy part. the deeper he goes, the more perilous the risk. virals twitch and mutter, grouped around piles of reeking carnage mounted nearly ceiling - high in some places. he doesn’t turn on his flashlight for chancing exposure. it takes his eyes a few minutes to adjust to the gloom.

he has eight hours, give or take, before the volatiles return and this excursion goes from dangerous to suicidal. eight hours is plenty.

bones. the ground is littered with them, crunching underfoot. some are smaller; animal, maybe — birds, rodents — but most aren’t. bigger things. human. skull fragments that are all teeth. the smell has gotten incrementally worse, distinguishable even through his own cloak of viscera. it’s suffocating and rank. biological. metallic like a slaughterhouse. choked with dirt like a grave.

edging a pool of stagnant water that fills the crevice between cracked slabs of cement, he pushes on.

he’s getting closer. he can hear it now. an unearthly vocalization that pitches above the rest, echoing off stone. it’s a howl and a groan and a wail and a scream all in one, wordless, feral, made of pain and desperate hunger.

he sees it near a blocked door to a maintenance hall, in front of a wide wall of concrete debris. tethered to the earth by flesh and tendon like roots. there’s no lower half: only a head and torso, its other parts impossible to identify. the head is thrown back. spikes of bone push through bloody sinew in odd places, and the jaw is split along both sides, a wide, disjointed yawn. nothing about it is human. nothing about it suggests that it once was human.

circling behind it, crane braces one hand on its shoulder and draws his blade with the other. the machete is driven clean through, back to front, gleaming point emerging from its chest.

kill the beating heart —

the death rattle is jarring, a wet, retching sustain, and then it stops. the thing stills, goes limp. he pulls his blade out again.

— you kill the beast.

there are three more of them, nestled deep within the labyrinth. he finds them by sound, repeats the same routine with each. in a way, it feels merciful. killing sabit was merciful. he wasn’t long in this state when crane had found him; too far gone to save, but with enough human left in him to plead for release.

these ones don’t plead, but release is granted anyway.

because of how deep the nest goes, of how careful he is in navigating it, it’s coming up on midnight by the time he turns around to work his way back. that isn’t worrisome: sunrise starts washing the horizon in swaths of pale peach at 5:30, doesn’t fully spread her rays ‘til six. he still has a seven - hour window, and all he has to do is reach the cottage again. the camouflage is working. his pulse is steady.

everything is playing out accordingly, right up until it’s not.

a viral staggers from behind one of the vehicles in the tunnel, an old city bus that blocked it from view. he misses it, focused on a through - path to avoid the others. it knocks into his shoulder. hard.

crane stumbles a little. it wouldn’t be enough to throw him had his footing been on even ground.

his boot slips off the edge of the crevice.

his ankle, the same one roman had fucked up months before, torques harshly in a direction it isn’t supposed to go, skewing his balance sideways.

“oh, f—”

the curse is caught before it’s anything more than a breath.

he falls. water splashes around him.

four feet away, the viral lets out a screech.

the noise. that’s all, he tells himself: just the sudden noise drawing attention. but the filthy pool around him begins to turn filthier, a runoff of blood and entrails slipping from his clothes. he freezes. holds absolutely still, unblinking, barely breathing. three more virals and a handful of shuffling biters are starting to congregate around the water. sensing some disturbance, some change in the air. one of them presses in closer. he realizes what’s about to happen a microsecond before.

the biter trips over the slab and lands in the pool with him, dousing him in a second wave. he scrambles backward, kicks it back when it lunges, but the damage is already done.

they smell him now. they see him.

crane jumps from the pool and bodies the first viral that comes at him. the tunnel fills with shrieks and groans, a ravenous stampede with a single piece of prey.

his machete cuts through the nearest throat. then he breaks into a run.

the firecrackers he throws behind him buy enough time to clear the tunnel’s entrance, to dip into the trees, to move at a flat sprint until ultraviolet lights wink at him between the black canopy. he vaults the awning, grabs hold of the balcony rail.

a volatile’s hunting cry reverberates through the moonlit night.

HARRAN COUNTRYSIDE, DAY 176 ; 6:02:45.

“lena. lena, do you copy? ... shit.”

still nothing, just the static noise of a poor signal. the transmission is weak. he curses under his breath, throws a glance down the ridge behind him, hikes further up the crest. the air thins. he stops and tries again.

“lena, come in. do you copy?”

this time, finally, the static catches traction.

“crane? is that you?"

“thank god. yeah — yeah, brecken, it’s me.”

“holy shit.” relief, even through a weak transmission, hits him center mass. “it’s good to hear your voice, mate. it’s been too fucking long.”

“i — i know, man. i’m sorry. really. i —”

“nah, nah, save that for later, okay? tell me you’re finally through with this poxy country holiday and you’re ready to come home.”

home. that hits, too. emotion swells in his throat. a dammed flood he’s been so diligent to keep at bay.

last night was sleepless. he’d kept watch until sunrise, kept alert, because it occurred to him when he’d hit the water: he doesn’t want to die. losing hope is a dangerous thing. and maybe it is hopeless. maybe the antizin will run dry and he’ll turn, and one of them will have to put him down, like he did rahim and jade, and there won’t be any stopping it. no cure. no way out.

maybe he thought he did want to die — or maybe it was just that he didn’t care if he lived.

home. come back home.

it’s not about him. it’s not himself that he’s living for.

not anymore.

“yeah,” he manages. “yeah. i, uh — i think it’s past time for that.”

brecken blows out a breath. “sanest thing i’ve heard you say in a while. look, let me grab the others and —”

“no. no, don’t do that. i don’t have a lot of time — could lose the signal again at any second. brecken ... listen, just — just tell ‘em i’m on my way, huh? tell ‘em ...”

“yeah. i will.”

“i’m sorry.”

“i know, crane."

a steady inhale is pulled and released.

he hears something. something that seems to shake the air around him, above him; something a lot like the whirring engine of an aircraft. but it can’t be that. there haven’t been any drops in months. squinting against the sun’s rays, crane scans the skyline, searching —

“hang on,” brecken says, “you hear that?”

“what? you’re not tellin’ me it’s loud enough t—”

“there’s a — oi, get ayo up here, right now! — there’s a fucking plane. what the fuck, crane, i thought the GRE weren’t dropping supplies anymore?”

“no, they’re not, they’re — wh— hang on, what do you mean there’s a plane? there’s a plane right —”

“listen, call me again once you’re close, okay? get your ass back here as soon as possible, we’ll talk then.”

“n— wait — brecken, don’t —”

the radio goes dead.

overhead, a fixed - wing transport plane banks left and makes a hairpin turn to circle the cliffside. minimum altitude over rural land is five hundred feet. it’s close.

close enough to catch a flash of color from the massive logo painted on its fuselage.

a medical cross inside a circle, bold letters spelling out GRE.

#battle journals.*#ii / i. hell is empty and all the devils are here.*#are we anywhere near this point in the arc? no #did i write this anyway? absolutely i did

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jeanfrancoisgeschwind · 3 years

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Jean-Francois Geschwind It Can Be Done: How To Treat And Beat Your Cancer

Jean-Francois Geschwind Proficient tips provider. Cancer is a disease that is best known for its ability to cause the production of masses of rogue cells known as tumors. As these tumors grow, they begin to halt the normal function of organs in the body. Scientists have been battling this disease for decades, and as a result we now know more than ever about how to deal with it. Here are some facts and tips that can help you or a loved one to cope with cancer.

It is quite normal for cancer patients to feel unattractive. Self-esteem is at an all-time low and nothing seems to be right. This is a great time to pamper yourself! When you are feeling well enough, take a friend and go out to lunch. Get your nails done, or shop for a new outfit. Doing normal, everyday activities can make you feel like part of life again and change your whole attitude!

The human papillomavirus, or HPV, is a cause of cervical cancer. This virus causes genital warts, which are transmitted by sexual contact. The only way to prevent the spread of HPV is the use of condoms and abstinence, or a vaccine that protects against the disease. Be responsible and don't practice unprotected sex. The possibility of cancer isn't worth the risk.

When battling cancer it is important to surround yourself with people who will honestly listen to your opinions and feelings without judgment. There are days when you are going to be angry, frustrated or sad and you need to be able to express those feelings openly and honestly when need be.

You should meditate during those times when you are really struggling with cancer. It can help you to stay mentally focused and not just think about the cancer. It can give you the mental strength to fight the cancer and really take control of your life.

There are many different ways that people cope with cancer. Some of them good and some of them bad. Find a good way to cope with cancer. Some good coping methods include relaxation techniques, such as meditation, doing leisure activities or writing your feelings down in a journal.

It's important that you work hard to deal with your feelings and emotions if you or someone you know has cancer. This is going to be a very emotional time in ways you cannot possibly understand unless you've been through it, and unchecked emotions can destroy relationships permanently and lead to a world of regret.

Always work hard to gather information if someone you love has cancer. They might not be in the right frame of mind to soak up the information about what they can do to handle the disease. But you should be at full attention in order to take in and retain this information. It's important that you gather as much as possible.

Expressing your love for someone with cancer doesn't always have to be done vocally. You can simply be there for a person physically to assist them and to show your moral support. Some types of cancer are incredibly rough, and the patient might not be able to care for him or herself. Make sure you're there for them.

Jean-Francois Geschwind Most excellent service provider. Don't be afraid if you have to have a screening for breast cancer. Just remember, it is only temporary, it will be over very quickly. Screening procedures are designed to save your life by catching a problem while it is still manageable. The possibility of experiencing a little discomfort should be no reason to avoid periodic screening for cancer.

Beans are incredibly good for your heart, but they're also essential in preventing cancer, especially colon cancer. The amount of fiber contained in beans and legumes will help to rid the body of free radicals via the fiber and also the saponins, phytic acid and protease inhibitors contained within the beans.

Unfortunately with cancer, there are things in your life that will now be staring you in the face, and need to be acknowledged. You need to be ready to fight back.

Cancer doesn't have to take root in your brain in order to play tricks on your mind, so always remember to keep fantasy and reality separated from one another. You will begin to feel as if you're sleepwalking and dreaming while you're awake during your bout with chemo. Keep your mind focused and simply ignore the "weirdness."�

It's important that you stick to a regular eating schedule when you're fighting cancer. The food may want to exit the same way it entered due to your chemo, but you cannot afford to skip meals here. Losing strength means that you are losing the fight. Work to stay strong so that you can beat the cancer.

Be mindful of your exposure to BPA. This synthetic estrogen is often found in canned goods, water bottles and other items. Research has shown that BPA has the potential to cause cancer, so try to eat more frozen foods and look for water bottles that are labeled as BPA free.

Make sure that you are up-to-date on your immunizations. Viral infections can have an impact on certain types of cancer so ask your doctor whether you have received all the necessary immunizations. In particular find out whether you have the Hepatitis B and HPV immunizations; these can help prevent liver cancer and cervical cancer.

If you have scar tissue or ulcers that are not healing very quickly, you may be at risk of developing squamous cell cancer in that area. UV rays from the sun is a big culprit in these kinds of cancer cells, but if you have skin that has been damaged for some time it can also lead to the forming of these cells.

Jean-Francois Geschwind Qualified tips provider. There is a lot that can be done to fight cancer. Of course, it is strongly recommended that you get treted for cancer by an experienced oncologist. Nonetheless, there are mant strategies that you can implement yourself. Most of all, maintain a positive attitude, and be determined to enjoy each and every day of life.

#Jean-Francois Geschwind

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torendheavenandearth · 4 years

Text

1.0 - Prologo

“You can hardly imagine the fear, when the maya bird and the latoy bird were crying, when they knew of the incoming flood. You can hardly imagine the attachment on the crown on the trimmings of the shield. Brighter than gold, and sadder than the maya bird’s crying. With these things they will rend heaven, earth, and hell. With unimaginable fear and unimaginable decoration, they lumber into the world they know will be destroyed.” -- From Ang Aklat, Holy Book of the Trinity, interpreted by Engkanto Sandobal.

---

Follow the girl. Underneath a maroon-colored oversized hoodie--a horrible mistake in the tropical climate of the Philippines, doubly so in the stuffy, polluted air of Metro Manila--she wears her simple high school girl clothes: skirts that reach her knees, black sandals, and a white sailor-esque blouse. She pushes up her circular glasses as she waits for a bus to come by, waiting for one in Guadalupe in EDSA. She absentmindedly sweeps her bangs away from the top of her eyes. Bangs that she cut on her own during a night of terrible decisions.

Eventually, a white and red bus stops by. She rushes to it, managing to climb into it before the others do. It’s full. She’s forced to stay near the door, she can’t scoot her way in, full of men and women on their way back home from corporate work, probably from Makati. She mentally curses herself: it’s 6:30. Prime rush hour.

She breathes. I can do this, she thinks. Just another day in hell.

Eͥ̄͊̓̿̌v̝̗̪̬͓͎̪ͮe̜̖̞r͉͖̲͕ͤ̓ͨ̃̍ͅy̮̙͚͇͂̅ͅͅ ͓ͣ̑̈́͗͋ͤlͪ̍̒̆i̺̭͎ͅṫ͇ț͕͈̠̞̳̜͊ḻ̝̟͍̝e̩̰̜̺ͨ̅̋̅̽̍̐ ̤̠̝̟͇̖̀ͮͥd̈ͩͬ̔̆̒̄á̰̳̼͈̗̹͈ͧ͒ͦý̯͓͚̮̤̝̌̍ ̳͚̖̯̮͖̭͐̉̇̐ͣ̔͊ì̬ͯ̚ṅ̰̗̦̅ ̓h̼̳̤̬e̯͚̤̓͛̂ḷ̹̎ͫ̊̈́ͫ̽̚l̞̠ͩ̂͛͛ ̤̥e̱̝ͬ̄̂v͎̗̒͛͒ẻ͖̦̑͒ͫ̒̎n̔ͬ͊t͕̪̱ͦu̼ͯ̃̑a̹l̬͇̟̞̖͕͒̌̑̅̈́͗l͈̭̯̉ͬͦ̔̽͂y̥̫̟̘ͣ͛̐ ̞̺͎̥͐̍̐ͧ̀́m̱̲͚̠͎ͮa̩͇̜͎̭k͕̜̦͈͊̏̐͆ͦ͒ës͖̥̄̒͊ ̦͉̺͕̦̽ͭͣͥỹ̜̯̗͈̺̍̂͌ͤ̂ͅo͇̟̪u̩̖ ͈̰͓̤̞̪ͮͯͪ̊̚t̮̆͐ͪḣ͚̖̘̰͙͖̓̐i͈̖̙̗͔n͎̻̱̲̬̑k͖̫̳̮ͯ̓̂ͨ̏̐ͨ ̦ͥͦͣ̋͗̽ṯ̓̿̓̔ͭḧ̺́̋ā̘̰ͣ̈t̝̼̖̪͗ ͇̪̪͖̏͑̿ͯ̄ȳ̓͆o͇̬͑̏̎ͨ͆ͮ͛u͎̻̮̿̒’̬͇̙̖̖͔ͤ͌ͨ͆řͤḙ͍̦͓͉̰̏ͦ̃͒̓̚ ̜̟̥͔͙͇͕͊i͇̝ͮ̑n̻̙̞̓͗͊̄ ̺̺̦h̖̪̙̳̥̬̔ͧ̽ͩ̂é̘ͪ͒ͩ̓͌̚ä̜̰̲̻̠̰́ṽ̼̐ͫͫ͂̏̃e̖̜̖̦̺͚̋͌̓̏͛ṋ̰̳̱̺ͅ.̣̥͎͕̼̦̜ ̼̗̙̣̙̫ͬ͆͂̏̾ͣͨT͉̩̻̩̅̋̔͆̂͆h̆ͭͫ̉̃́a̰̺̳͎̲͚̠ͮͫt̲̪̞̥͌’̜̤̟̘̤̭s͔̠̝̎͛ͥ ̖̩͚͕ͫ̽ͬi̮͉̬̭̱̜ͬn̟͍̹ͫ̚s̝̼̙ͨ̒a̝͔̟̬͖͔͂̋ͥͫṋ̍̓̍ͭi̻ͩ̐͒ͬt̙̐ͧͣy̝̲̬̰̤͚͔ͦ͒.͉̣̖͗

Eventually, she drops off at her stop: Farmer’s Plaza at Cubao. She squeezes through the rush hour rush for people from Cubao trying to get onto the bus that she’s in, presumably to get to another residential area somewhere in Novaliches or perhaps trying to get to the Balintawak area. The smell of sweat and fatigue cling on to her, but she doesn’t care since it’s something that she also omits.

Now that she’s in Farmer’s Plaza, she still has to take a jeep to get to Anonas, so she has to walk all the way to Aurora Boulevard. She decides to go through Farmers Plaza instead of walking around the sidewalks. It's a Friday, and the line on the left side of the Plaza is hell since everyone is waiting for a UV to ride.

She slings her backpack off of her back and opens it, readying it for inspection. There is only one guard now, a small lady. She uses her wooden stick to widen the girl’s bag, and when she’s done, looks up at the girl with horrible bangs. The guard lady’s eyes have been replaced with balls of blue flame.

The girl blinks and flinches. She is usually devoid of emotion--or at least, she says so--so she’s surprised that that brought out a reaction from her. After blinking, the woman’s eyes are normal, brown, and human. “Ate, pasok na po kayo may iba ring papasok. (Please go in there are others that also want to go in.)” Sheepish, the girl walks past her and into the mall. She goes up a small escalator and into the second floor.

The lights of the mall flickers.

She blinks and stops, and she grasps the straps of her backpack as the entire floor goes pitch black.

She swallows. She can hear her own breathing. Ṫ̰̬̜̫̈̊̀̑h̥͍̙̞̰̘͕̃̏͛i̖̗͕̱̊̎̍s͔̺͚̟͂ͤͭ ̮̙̝̊ï̦s̒̔̋ͪ ̻̘̱̲̋ͩn̪̬̲͋̓̉͋̑o̩͖̮̪̙͗ͩͭ̚t̪̊ ̦̩͎̥̮ͅw̐̃̚h̰͉͍ͤ̏̊͐ͩa̝̱͚̼̰̯͛̌̊̏̍̄ͅt̹͍̬̭̘͕̭́ͬͭ̈́̊̄ͩ ̙̘ͮ̈̃s͚̼̬͂̚i͚̮͖̜̲͍̹̓͂́͛̋ͫ̚l̯̯̆̋̄e̱͇̰ͯ̉́ͪn̙̊ͬc͚̼̳̒̈͂e̽̄ͮ̈͆͊͋ ̜̬͙̻̏̐ͯͬ̐̋̔ͅs̜̪͛ͤ̔ͅo͇̮̓̄̐u̖͈̺̒̔͊̋n̟̺̫͍̠̘ͣ̋ͪͨͩ̄ͣd͓̣̟ͧͥͥͩ͆̈s̳͕͚̱̩̝ͧ̎ ̙͉̲̭̠̹̊̽̇͛̇̔l̙̦̗̻͚̮̙͊i͚̙̣̲̫͆̍̋̈́̋̍k̺̥̝͕̾ͥe̱̱͎̫̥̲͈̓.̖̬͗ͦ

A few seconds later, the lights blink back on. The people are walking about, in the midst of their daily lives, as if a sudden blackout hadn’t just occurred. They all look normal, doing their own thing: attending to shopping errands, looking at merchandise, selling their hotdogs and iced coffees… until the girl realizes they’re not looking at whatever they’re doing. They’re looking directly at something behind her.

They look at it from impossible angles, even if they shouldn’t be seeing it, they’re looking at it. One who is supposed to be leaning against a counter, speaking with the woman behind it, has their head turned around impossibly upon their neck, looking at the whatever is behind the girl. So is the woman that’s trying to make a cup of coffee.

The girl is flung into her fight-or-flight response. She decides the latter: without another beat, she surges forward, running past all the people, trying to get to the exit door on the other side. As she runs, the strange contorted heads all follow her, tracking her movements.

Curiosity gets the best of her. Before she reaches the exit, which has no guard for some strange reason, she whips her head around and looks behind her.

There, at the point where she was just standing, is a blue flame, which has taken on the form of a human. The folds of its fire reveal watching eyes. Its “head” is crowned by a halo of swords, and it's back is cloaked with wings of spears made from impossibly solidified light.

It doesn’t move. All that happens is that the girl is not running anymore. Instead, she is floating, and the Fire raises its hand. The girl cannot do anything. She cannot scream, she cannot speak, she cannot plead. In the next moment, she is in the being’s flaming grasp, unburned but unfeeling.

From up close, the girl notices that the Fire, despite having multiple sets of eyes, has no head and no face. The Fire turns, bringing the girl along with it. When it does, the girl finds that there are six other Fires, each one a different color of flame, carrying with them their own set of people. They stare at each other for a little while, before one of the Fires--a being made of bright gold flame, as if forged from the heart of a volcano’s furnace--raises its hand. Something rips in the space before them, and the girl’s stomach drops. That horrid action of perverting reality did not sit right with the girl. It’s not natural. It’s not supposed to happen like that. Nothing is supposed to do that.

The girl feels like vomiting, but before she can do anything that rash, the seven Fires leap through the rip in reality--like a scar upon the skin of space--and they are falling into blackness.

▼

She wakes. She is on a rattan mat. There is someone kneeling beside her, there is a needle right of her eye… no, that’s not a needle. It’s a creature that drillsitselfintohereyeanditburrowsdeepintohersoulthereisasearingpaineverythingis

red.

▼

“Angela De Jesus--that is her name. Her Kaluluwa screamed it as they went through the Wound,” the voice comes from somewhere else as Angela’s consciousness. She’s sitting on a damp stone floor. It’s hot, humid. Is she still in the Philippines? She looks about her and there is only one opening: the cell bars before her.

She tries to stand, but pain lances through her and throws her back down. “Ow. What the fuck--” she looks down on her hand and sees that it’s basically nailed to the stone floor by a little lance of light. “What the fuck?!”

There is a creature beside her, also nailed down by that lance of light. This one is a bird-creature. Humanoid but avian, with an overly long tongue and teeth lining its huge beak. Its face is mostly the face of a bird, something that looks like a raven, although it has both of its eyes in front of its face, similar to a human. Its “hands” and “feet” are bird wings and bird feet, complete with vicious, crushing claws. The creature’s feathers are black, as if covered in a coat of soot or dipped into a tank of the blackest oil.

“Don’t try to fight it,” speaks the bird-creature, in a slow, croaking voice. “It only gets worse.” The creature doesn’t move. Completely still. Its voice is somewhat feminine.

Angela gulps. “Ahm… what… are you?”

“Tiktik, girl. And what are you?”

Angela blinks. “I… uhm… I thought I was human--”

“Tao.”

Angela blinks again. “That’s what I said.”

“No, you said something else.” The tiktik looks up at the bars, and then back at her. “Look, you’re not tao anymore. You’re bihag. Slave. Raid trophy. You’re a transuniversal entity: you come from another Universe. Is your civilization advanced enough to know this?”

Angela blinks.

“Then it sucks to be you. But, don’t worry, you’re in luck. It just so happens that you came in at the right time.”

Before Angela can ask what she meant by that, a squat, gray little creature pops out of the stone floor and dances around a bit. The tiktik leans in close and whispers, “What’s the matter lil’ buddy?”

“Ka Alvaro is here! Ka Alvaro is here!”

The tiktik breathes a sigh of relief. Her shoulders relax. “Good. Thanks little one.” And then the tiktik regurgitates a gold coin onto the creature’s head. The thing catches it--spit and all--and it giggles in delight, before sinking into the stone floor. “The security in here is shit,” says the tiktik, glancing at Angela. “The Pamahalaan--that is, the government-- doesn’t want to invest in them after all. They only invest in the military.”

Angela blinks again. “Wait… wait, what’s going to happen?”

“Like I said, girl,” says the tiktik. “You’re in luck. Because--” boom, something explodes outside, out of sight. Screaming and shouts and noise erupts from the other cells. There’s a lot of them, of these “bihag”?

“Ah shit, you’ve been branded, girl.” She gestures with her beak to Angela’s brow. Angela, in response, blinks, and tries to look up at what the tiktik is pointing at. She can’t see, but she can move her other hand. She moves it up to her brow and feels around. Are those… horns?

Angela blinks. She tries to scream out something--what the fuck is happening?--but the tiktik says: “You have to make sure Babaylan Abulencia removes it from you. Be sure to stay with me, all right?”

Angela looks up at her, in the same way someone who just woke up looks at the world. That glassy-eyed stare. “I-If you say so.” She has no idea what’s happening, but she decides that going with someone that doesn’t seem malevolent would be the best course of action.

“Good.” And at that word, blood splatters and streaks across the floor and the wall in front of their cell. There’s the sound of jail doors being unlocked and swung open.

Someone screams with a masculine voice: “Go on! Down the hole!” Footsteps resound as if in reply. All Angela can see is the shadows dancing upon the wall.

And then, a woman appears, wearing the trappings of a devotee of the Catholic faith. She walks near the

A white panuelo is draped over her head, and she wears a black skirt beneath a white butterfly-sleeved blouse. The baro’t saya. Sleeve-and-skirt getup, iconic to the Philippine Spanish era.

“Come, quickly,” says the woman, and she is immaculately beautiful. Her eyes are blackest black, and her skin is the palest of pale, as if untouched by the tropical sun. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, but is darker than black. She waves her hand and the lances of light that pins Angela and the tiktik to the cell are lifted. A wave of blissful relief washes over Angela. There was a small humming pain that accompanied the lance of light that made even movement agonizing and tiring. She and the tiktik stand up, stretching.

The tiktik says: “Binibini Abulencia--” Binibini, an honorific, meaning “Lady” or “Maiden”, “--I am so glad you are safe.”

“The turning of the wheel of fate has only just begun,” replies Binibini Abulencia, her eyes half-closed, making it look like she’s sleepy. “Now come quickly, Dimahuli.” She produces a key from her sleeve and unlocks the cell door. Angela notices that she is stuck to the floor, unmoving because of the shock. All around her the noise of people rushing, uttering prayers, invocations, and thanks to “Ka Alvaro” resound.

Angela is still like a newly awoken child. But this time, with the rushing noise of footsteps and voices, her heart beats faster. She swallows, unsure where to go, and ends up sticking her hands into the pockets of her hoodie.

“Anak,” says Binibini Abulencia, and that is a word that means “my child”. Angela looks up and Binibini Abulencia is standing right before her, looking more or less like a Mama Mary painting. “Come, now. It is time to go. You are free now. Come.”

Angela blinks and notices her eyes are wet with tears. “Ate--” ‘big sister’, “--what’s happening? Where are we going? Where am I?”

“Hush, dry your tears, anak. It’s time to leave. Come with me, and all will be safe.”

Angela looks at her for a moment, a moment that she’s not sure of--perhaps she reminds her of her mother?--before nodding. She leaves the cell, led by Binibini Abulencia by the hand. Outside, the cells are now mostly empty, save for a few creatures that are leaping down the hole. Others have had to use the rope to climb down safely. There are a lot of them: other humanoid looking creatures with different skin colors, from blue to red to green to yellow. Others have horns or are partly feline. Others are tikbalang: horse-headed humanoid beings with strange, overly long, and lanky appendages. Others still are strange beings with the feet and wings of an eagle, but the body and head of a man. There is a snake person there, slithering down the hole on the ground. There is a little goblin man, with lanky arms and legs but with a straw hat of a farmer, with bulbous black eyes and a black goatee. Duwende.

And then there is the man. Angela didn’t know what she was expecting when she heard the name “Ka Alvaro.” The man standing there is old. Wrinkles line his face, and his mustache and “beard” are wispy, scraggly strands of hair. His eyes are tired, and his long unkempt hair is held down by a salakot, a broad-brimmed hardwood hat. He wears a simple camisa, a white shirt, and brown balloon pants. He wears a pair of leather boots that look like they have been stolen from the guwardya sibil. Hanging around his neck are rows upon rows of necklaces. Anting-anting, the word bubbles into Angela’s mind. Magical amulets.

Before the man there are two limp bodies, blood spilling from their wounds, on the ground. They are wearing the boots and dark-colored trousers and rayadillo of the Guwardya Sibil. Their weapons are spread across the floor.

“So familiar, yet so different,” Angela mutters. Ka Alvaro looks up at her and then gestures for her to go down the hole. The tiktik--Dimahuli-- waits to grab the rope.

“Can you not fly?” asks Binibining Abulencia. Dimahuli shakes her head and shows Abulencia her scarred wing.

“They tortured me.”

Angela gulps. She looks up at the Binibini, who simply nods sadly. “You’ve done good work. You’ve said nothing. You are brave.”

“For a better Perlesensya,” says the tiktik. “Mabuhay ang Perlesensya.”

Ka Alvaro nods, and repeats the phrase, like an incantation, or perhaps a promise. Maybe even a little cry of victory. “Mabuhay ang Perlesensya. They’ve taken away our language, our lands, our culture, and our people, but they will never take away our souls.”

Behind Ka Alvaro is a set of stone stairs that lead up to double doors. Those doors have been barricaded by a wooden desk, and a large carabao-headed man stands guard with a kalasag and a kris at his disposal. He peers through the slit between the doors.

As Angela watches the carabao man, she notices a few white rose petals enter through that slit. She glances around her and sees more petals come in through the cracks in the stone floor and the walls. Even more flurry in from the hole they’re escaping through. There are still quite a few folk trying to escape, trying to get down the rope, but when they see the rose, chaos erupts. Some of them leap down, throwing caution to the wind. Others scramble down the rope, even though the rope can only handle a single being at a time.

The carabao-headed man--sarangay, as they are called (Angela wonders where the voice comes from, but the immediate action is too much for her to focus on this strange thought)--shouts: “Ka Alvaro! The Guwardya Sibil are here! They have--” The sarangay cannot finish his warning: the doors are blasted open and the sarangay is blown away, sending him sprawling onto the floor in front of Ka Alvaro.

Ka Alvaro rushes to the sarangay. “Makaalingawngaw, are you okay?”

Makaalingawngaw nods. He takes Ka Alvaro’s hand and stands up, then readies his kris and kalasag. Ka Alvaro pulls out his pistol as a red sprite dances around the barrel.

“Binibining Abulencia! Bring them all down quickly! Tell them they have to hurry!”

Binibini Abulencia leaves Angela’s side and helps the others down the rope, even as they scramble down and the rope begins to be pulled taut.

Angela turns to the doors, which have been blasted open and thrown off of its hinges. White rose petals flurry through, like a river bursting through a dam, before suddenly stopping in midair and then beginning a lazy circular dance around a strange figure standing by the door frame..

The being is as tall as the sarangay, who is almost three heads taller than Ka Alvaro. For reference: Angela is small--only around 5’2”--and Ka Alvaro is only around 6 inches taller than her.

The being’s skin is even stranger: it is made of gold. The kind of gold one would find on statues. Actually, the being actually looks like a statue, if a statue could walk. Its face is unmoving, looking like it had been painted on. The face itself is reminiscent of Renaissance paintings one would find on the ceilings of churches.

Clothing the being is a somewhat simple and light cassock. Flaring out from the top of the creature’s head is a bonfire of golden flame, with multiple eyes blinking in and out of existence from it, as if those were the fire’s embers. In one hand, the being holds a staff, and the other hand is in a strange finger sign. The thumb, pointer, and middle finger are pointed up, while the pinky and ring fingers are folded. This sign is brought over near their heart, where a shining white ball of flame burns through a hole.

“Fuck,” Angela hears Ka Alvaro. “<ARKSERAPIN SAN BARACHIEL>--” and the words materialize in the air in a strange script that Angela cannot read, but somewhat resembles baybayin. “--How did they know?”

“No time,” says Binibini Abulencia, who throws her panuelo down and runs up next to Ka Alvaro. “The hole is getting backed up.”

The sarangay turns and says, “I can help!” And he begins to rush over to the hole.

Angela looks over to the hole and, indeed, there is chaos. Especially now that they can see the being standing by the door.

“Ah, yes. <KA ALVARO, THE TULISAN> and <BINIBINI ABULENCIA, THE ERETIKO>,” bellows the being without moving his lips. “I’ve come as God’s Judgment.” The Arkserapin brings the staff down once to the floor, and one of the white rose petals becomes a razor blade that darts toward the sarangay.

The petal slices the sarangay’s head clean off. Blood streaks across the already blood-splattered walls.

The people trying to get down the hole begin screaming. Others begin to leap down through the hole. The others begin to slide down the rope, burning their hands.

Angela can’t move. She’s stuck to where she is.

“Ka Alvaro, you can’t die here,” says Abulencia, kicking off her wooden clogs. “You have to leave with them. You have to lead them.”

“Binibini, I cannot leave you to fend for your own!”

“I am not alone,” says Abulencia, setting her mouth in a grim yet determined line.

Ka Alvaro stares at Abulencia for a few moments, but in the end, he nods, seemingly as if defeated. As if he knows that he cannot talk her out of it. “Then please do your best, and return safely.”

Ka Alvaro turns and kneels before the sarangay, uttering a small prayer, before rushing over to the hole. Barachiel taps the floor with his staff once again, and three rose petals turn into razor blades that spin toward Ka Alvaro. The Ka ignores the razor petals. The petals slice into his skin, but then Ka Alvaro is unharmed.

“Barachiel!” screams Abulencia, and when Angela turns back her attention to her, the Binibini is convulsing violently. Her movements are reminiscent of a strange erratic dance: one that honors all the gods that have ever existed. “Barachiel/BARACHIEL!” When she speaks, her voice is not one, but two. The other is the hoarse voice of a thousand poisons and a thousand swords clashing against each other in the middle of the sea.

Barachiel turns to Abulencia as her hair explodes into a shining red corona. Abulencia tears her baro away, revealing her glowing crimson skin, like her soul threatening to burst through. She raises her hand and a spear materializes from the glowing of her skin, and tattoos suddenly line her glowing skin, glowing a divine white and gold. Three extra sets of arms explode from her back, bursting from her skin as if burning out from her soul.

“Woman,” says Barachiel.

“I am no woman/I AM NO WOMAN. I AM <INAGINID, BATHALA OF WAR>, AND YOU WILL BLEED.”

“Amusing,” says Barachiel, as he taps the floor once again. The rose petals converge into a great lance that Barachiel then flings at the Inaginid. Inaginid catches the rose petals, turns it redder than blood, and then breaks it apart with her six hands.

Barachiel, emotionless, taps the ground again. A flurry of rose petals turn into razor blades and cut into Angela, sending her tumbling to the ground. She cries out in pain, and blood drips from her wounds.

Ka Alvaro curses and runs towards her just as the last two men begin climbing down the rope. Behind him, Inaginid is punching sharpened rose petals, their infinitely cutting blades doing nothing against her. Step by step, inch-by-inch, Inaginid closes in on the Arkserapin. “Girl, I cannot save you. Forgive me. But wear this--” and Ka Alvaro puts an anting-anting around her. A triangle shaped emblem with an eye in the middle. “--and trust me.” The second it settles on her neck, she feels a wave of relief flood through her, although the pain is still too great to wholly stem. She writhes as floods of relief and floods of pain fill her soul.

Ka Alvaro throws a seed into the stone floor and immediately a small tree--like a miniature balete--sprouts from the ground. In the middle of the tree is a hole, one large enough for Angela to fit through. Before Angela can say anything else, Ka Alvaro picks her up and pushes her into the hole.

Nothing else follows.

Next Chapter.

Return to Table of Contents.

#writing #web serial #prologue #to rend heaven and earth

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panfishonthefly · 4 years

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Resin Bodied Wet Flies Part II

I received numerous requests for additional information about the Resin Bodied Wet Flies I wrote about in my last blog post. I thought I would do a follow-up post explaining how I tie these patterns and share some of my favorite tying recipes. I have been fishing this style of fly for many years, but before UV resins came on the scene, they were created using 5-minute epoxy. Using 5-minute epoxy is still an option, but I have abandoned it in favor of UV resin.

There are many UV resins on the market available to the fly tier. While I have not tried them all, I have tried quite a few of them. I have settled on Solarez Products as my UV resin of choice. Solarez makes a UV resin for every application, and I use it exclusively in my fly tying. The resin used in the creation of these wet flies is Solarez Bone Dry. Bone Dry has some unique characteristics that make it ideal for these patterns. Solarez Bone Dry is an ultra-thin UV resin. It goes on like a thin head cement, and I often use it for that purpose on my flies as it leaves a durable, smooth, high gloss finish on the thread wraps at the head of the fly. The most important feature of this product is the fact that it dries in seconds when exposed to UV light, and it dries with a 100 percent tack-free, high gloss finish. I have been using this product fo a few years now, and I have observed no yellowing, fading, or cracking of the finish on flies that have been around since I first started using it.

Tying The Resin Bodied Wet Fly

Tying the resin Bodied wet fly is pretty straight forward. The use of UV resin has made the process even easier. When I used epoxy in the past, I would tie up a bunch of partially completed flies (bodies only), treat them with the epoxy, and set them on a wheel to dry. Using UV resin allows me to complete the fly in the vise, which saves a lot of time and eliminates a few steps in the tying procedure.

The Hook

I am always asked about the specific hook I use on all of the patterns that I tie. For the Resin Bodied Wet Fly, I like a standard wet fly hook. There are a lot of good options to choose from, but I have fallen in love with the Firehole Stick #633 by Firehole Outdoors. This nymph/wet hook is a 1x long 2x heavy hook that is perfect for wet flies and nymphs tied without a bead (I prefer a longer hook when using beads on nymph patterns). The 2x heavy hook breaks through the surface film quickly and helps get the fly down to the fish. The heavier hook also holds up well when a good bass inevitably grabs the fly as they often do. I am always amazed at the size of some of the largemouth bass I catch on tiny wet flies! One thing to note is that the Fire Stick #633 and all Firehole Outdoors hooks for that matter are barbless. I prefer barbless hooks on all of the flies I tie for myself, but I have customers that want flies tied on barbed hooks. I highly recommend this hook, and those anglers who only fish barbed hooks should consider giving it a try.

Creating the Resin Body

The most important thing to remember about this pattern is to create the body and apply the UV resin before adding the hackle and thorax. This step will eliminate the possibility of the resin getting on the fibers of the thorax and hackle. I usually use two different threads when tying these patterns. I prefer a more substantial thread to quickly build a tapered body and a finer thread for finishing the head. If you are careful with your thread wraps, you can get away with using a 140 denier thread as a compromise. Using a few more wraps to form the body and a few less to create the head of the fly, you can turn out a fantastic looking fly without changing threads.

You have a few options when building the body. You can use thread alone with or without a contrasting rib to create a great looking body. You can also wrap a single layer of crystal flash or smoother flash material if you want to create a body with a little bling. Remember that you will be adding a layer of UV resin to the fly, so keep the shape of the fly on the thin side, so you don’t create a bulky looking fly unless, of course, that is what you are looking for.

Another tip is not to crowd the hook eye. Give yourself adequate room to finish the fly after you apply the resin. It is also essential to keep the resin away from the area of the hook that you will be tying in the hackle. You will always get better-looking results tying in your hackle on a bare hook shank or one covered with only a single layer of thread.

As stated earlier, I use Solarez Bone Dry to coat the body of the fly. Solarez comes in a glass bottle with a brush applicator. Usually, the first thing I do when opening a new bottle of Bone Dry is to take a pair of scissors to the brush to thin it out a bit. Trimming the brush is an excellent idea if you tie a lot of small flies. Leave the brush as it is if you primarily tie big stuff. At the moment, I am using a prototype plastic bottle with a fine metal needle tip applicator. This bottle is my new favorite method of applying UV resin of this nature. I hope Solarez offers this bottle option to everyone in the future. Are you listening Solarez?

Solarez Bone Dry has a peculiar characteristic that I have to mention. When Solarez Bone Dry is exposed to colder temperatures (below 55 degrees, I believe), it begins to crystallize, making it unusable. Fortunately, this is remedied by warming it up. I usually stick the opened bottle in the microwave for a few minutes, and it is restored to its proper state. Another method, which I use when tying on the road at various fly fishing shows during the winter, is to stick the sealed bottle in a glass of hot water. It takes a little longer, but once the resin warms, it will be entirely restored. Just make sure the container is correctly sealed or only submerge it to the level of the cap.

Once you have created a body of thread or flash material, give it a light coating of Bone Dry resin. Go sparingly at first until you get a feel for how much resin is needed. A rotary vice is real handy here as you can rotate the fly to keep the resin from sagging before hitting it with UV light and setting the resin. After applying a drop or two of resin, I spread it around with a dubbing needle or the metal stem on the new bottle to evenly distribute it before curing it. The resin sets in seconds when exposed to the UV light.

Finishing The Fly

Now that your body is done, its time to finish the fly. I tie a lot of soft hackles with this style body, but nothing says you can’t use it for winged wets as well. You can get as simple or elaborate as you want. You can finish the fly with a few turns of hackle and call it finished. Tie them sparse or heavily hackled; the choice is yours, both styles have their uses. For hackle, I like hen hackle and feathers from game birds like partridge, grouse, and pheasant. I also use rooster hackle, specifically the hackle found on Ewing Feather Bird Deceiver Patches. This versatile hackle has a lot of uses outside of deceiver style streamers. I use it for hackle on poppers and bass bugs as well as larger wet flies. It has the perfect combination of stiffness and flexibility, and I like the way it looks on larger wet flies.

You can add a little more detail, a change in profile, and perhaps a little bit of contrast by adding a thorax before winding on the feather. I use a variety of dubbing and chenilles to create thoraxes on wet flies. A thorax will help keep the feather more upright when being retrieved through the water. It also presents an opportunity to add a hot spot to your fly by adding a thorax of brightly colored dubbing or chenille. You can also add a hot spot by finishing the head of the fly with brightly colored thread. You can use that same Bone Dry Resin to finish the head instead of head cement to get a smooth, durable, high gloss head on your fly.

Recycling At Its Best

Flies tied in this fashion are incredibly durable and will stand up to a lot of fish. Eventually, the hackle and thorax will get beat up, possibly being stripped off entirely if your not careful with those forceps when removing the flies from the fish’s mouth. Don’t discard that fly! Chances are the body is in perfect condition! Bring it back to your fly tying bench and add a fresh turn of hackle. I usually use a sharp knife to trim away the old head, then add new dubbing and hackle, and it is off to the races again!

Recipes for Killer Soft Hackles

When it comes to panfish, there is no limit to the color combinations that can be used to catch fish. Wet flies have a long tradition of being tied to match specific hatches as well as being tied as gaudy, colorful attractors. I consider both approaches when adding a fresh batch of wet flies/soft hackles to my fly boxes. I encourage you to experiment with your designs and color combinations. Please be sure to share your successes with me!

Here are a few of my favorites:

The Basic Yellow

Hook: Firehole Stick #633 (size 8-14)

Thread Body: Danville 210 denier Yellow

Hackle: Chartreuse Grizzly Ewing Deceiver Patch

Resin: Solarez Bone Dry

Yellow w/Black Rib

Hook: Firehole Stick #633 (size 8-14)

Thread Body: Danville 210 denier Yellow with a black thread rib. Use heavier Black embroidery floss if you want a more “bee-like” appearance

Hackle: Chartreuse Grizzly Ewing Deceiver Patch

Resin: Solarez Bone Dry

Chartreuse Flash

Hook: Firehole Stick #633 (size 8-14)

Thread: UTC 140 denier Red

Body: Chartreuse or Pearl Crystal Flash

Hackle: Chartreuse Grizzly Ewing Deceiver Patch

Thorax: One turn of Chartreuse/Back variegated chenille

Resin: Solarez Bone Dry

Red Flash

Hook: Firehole Stick #633 (size 8-14)

Thread: UTC 140 denier Red

Body: Silver Crystal Flash

Hackle: Chartreuse Grizzly Ewing Deceiver Patch

Thorax: Bright Red Dubbing

Resin: Solarez Bone Dry

Basic Brown

Hook: Firehole Stick #633 (size 8-14)

Thread Body: UTC 140 denier Brown

Hackle: Grizzly or Brown Grizzly Ewing Deceiver Patch

Thorax: Brown Dubbing

Resin: Solarez Bone Dry

Basic Olive

Hook: Firehole Stick #633 (size 8-14)

Thread Body: UTC 140 denier Olive

Hackle: Grizzly or Olive Grizzly Ewing Deceiver Patch

Thorax: Dark Olive Dubbing

Resin: Solarez Bone Dry

Hot Spot Brown or Olive

Hook: Firehole Stick #633 (size 8-14)

Thread Body: UTC 140 denier Brown or Olive

Hackle: Grizzly, Brown or Olive Grizzly Ewing Deceiver Patch

Thorax: Hot Orange Dubbing Resin:

Solarez Bone Dry

Head: Hot Orange 70 denier UTC

There is no limit to the varieties of Resin Bodied Wet Flies you can tie. Experiment and have a little fun at the vice. I think you would be hard pressed to tie one that won’t work!

Need the materials to tie these flies? You can find them here!

#Epoxy/Resin Bodied Wet Fly #Soft Hackles #wet fly #bluegill #panfish #brim #bream flies #bluegill flies

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engeltopp0 · 2 years

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What You Need To Know About Aging

Many people say that youth is wasted on the young. But what if you could keep the wisdom, you've gained with age while looking and feeling more youthful? It may sound like a fantasy, but it's possible. In this article, you'll find advice on how to turn back the clock on aging. Do not leave the house without sunscreen to avoid looking older faster. The UV radiation from the sun can severely damage your skin and it is a major contributor to how your face looks. Also know that too much sun exposure can lead to certain cancers so wear sunscreen every day. As you grow older, many hear the reminders of how important it is to eat healthy everyday; a treat once in a while can bring a smile to your face. Don't you just love to eat your favorite food? Maybe chocolate chip cookies are your pick? Bake up a batch and enjoy them with a friend or family member. Enjoy the companionship of someone you love with something you enjoy! For even healthier aging, eat more fish and less red meat. Red meat can muck up your arteries by sticking to the linings. Seafood has the exact opposite effect. Seafood not only does not stick as much to the arteries, it even helps prevent other things from sticking as well! As an additional supplement, consider taking omega-3 oil, the same oil found in seafood, every day. Feel free to have a drink and a good meal once in a while. Even if you are watching your diet closely and do not consume alcohol on a regular basis, you should take the time to have a good glass of wine that you used to love and a great meal that was your favorite. Enjoy things in life. If you feel your better years are behind you, try writing down your thoughts. This can be done through a poem, blog, letter or journal. Writing gets your brain working, and you can express who you are or may even come up with new ideas. The best part is you will realize how much knowledge and wisdom you already have with which you can impart to others. Understand the stress triggers in your life and manage them. As you age it's as important to take care of your mind as it is your body. Your mind and body are linked to the point that the health of one can severely affect the health of the other. Take the time to proactively approach your stress triggers and reduce them or even get rid of them! Your body will thank you for it! Prepare for the end. If you take the time to prepare a living will and pre-plan your funeral you will find much peace in the process. Dying is a part of living that cannot be beat and having a plan that is ready for that time is a gift to yourself as well as the rest of your family. Avoid the company of grouchy, unhappy people, and spend your time with your positive, upbeat friends. It has been proven in studies that laughter and smiling can actually reduce wrinkles and give you a more youthful appearance. With that said, be sure to spend as much time with friends and family that make you laugh and happy instead of the ones that try to bring you down with them. Get hörgeräte on a regular basis to keep your body balanced and better equipped to age gracefully! Many people of all ages suffer from lack of sleep and poor quality of it and it is even more important to us as we get older. Seek medical advice if you are not getting the sleep you need and do not underestimate the importance of it to you! Our society is too preoccupied with money. Once we reach retirement age we can let go of this. We have the time to pursue interests like music and painting, and can gain enormous enjoyment from them. An art or craft done for the pure joy of it brings real fulfillment. You may not have a real time machine, but that doesn't mean you can't make yourself look younger. Now that you've read this article, you've got some great ideas on how to slow the aging process and look more youthful than you are. People who meet you will think that you're wise beyond your years.

#hörgerät

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theclaravoyant · 6 years

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AN ~ this one’s for myself, but also for @jadehendrixmusic who asked on a convo between me and @marvelthismarvelthat that this be written. Enjoy the PAIN but srsly have I told you how much I love Daisy mcfreaking Johnson. This also fills @aosadvent2017 prompt “hope”

“We can’t change the future,” he reminded her. “We couldn’t then and we can’t now. But they did get one thing wrong.”

The real story of how and why Daisy Johnson broke apart the Earth.

Read on AO3 (~2300wd). Rated T. Rshps: Daisy-centric, Daisy & the Team, Daisy & Fitz. Angst with a Happy(ish?) Ending. MCD and I’m not f*ckin around w that

Destroyer of Worlds

In the end, Daisy thought, she should have seen it coming.

She’d felt it for a while, somewhere deep inside herself.

The knowledge that she would bury her friends.

For a while they managed to stick together as the world collapsed into chaos around them. They clung to each other, looked after each other so well it almost felt like they were the last real people left on Earth. But of course, there was only so much that seven people could do against an alien dictatorship and soon enough, things started to spiral beyond their control.

Coulson was the first to go, in a fiery, guns-blazing, one-against-the-world sacrifice to buy time while Daisy and Elena escaped, and rescued a mob of Inhumans from the Kree cells.

A little while after that, Jemma’s mysterious immunity to one of the Kree’s favourite pathogens attracted the wrong sort of attention from their leaders. She was captured and – after flatly refusing to cooperate, whether willingly or under duress - experimented on, before finally being released. Delirious with her newly regained freedom, she had sprinted full-tilt for that shadowy corner of the world that the team now called home, until she’d realised - and stumbled and fallen and ploughed into the dirt with the shock of it – that the only reason they would have let her go was because they’d won. She’d contracted something. Something dangerous. Something that could wipe out the resistance.

So she’d run the opposite direction instead, and died alone.

May lasted a little longer than that. She was getting old by the time she went. Her eyes clouded with cataracts and she walked with a permanent limp, her legs and knees having been destroyed and re-knitted so many times. She remained a key strategist in their little band of resistance until the end, and died in as much peace as anyone could afford these days, surrounded by most of the remaining people that loved her.

It was funny, Daisy mused, the way that people used ‘funny’ for things that were not funny at all – like how she was sure that May would have preferred Coulson’s end, and he hers.

Still, the rest of them soldiered on.

And then there was Fitz.

His was a slow death, and one of the hardest as the dwindling resistance lost perhaps its truest believer. It started with a painful arthritis - in his hands at first, which was cruel enough, and then it spread to his shoulders, his back, his knees. Still, he refused to stop working; building panel after panel, machine after machine, engines and life support systems and generators and UV light-towers for growing food, and all manner of things that Daisy and even Mack did not fully recognise or understand. As per the policy they’d developed in case of capture, nobody had a clear idea of what all this was supposed to mean, not even the people working on it, until the day Fitz died.

That day, Daisy was curled up in a chair by his bedside as he slept, trying to resist the urge to chew on the sleeve of her jacket. She had asked not to be disturbed, feeling much less the hardy resistance leader their followers knew, and much more the lost girl about to watch one of her best friends disappear before her very eyes.

Fitz mumbled something, incoherent, and Daisy threw herself forward, falling to her knees at his bedside. He smiled – amused, apparently, by her dramatics, as if he wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “’s just what happens when you breathe in metal dust all day, ‘n don’t eat anything, and-“

He cut himself off, his words lost in a barrage of coughing, and Daisy poured him a glass of water. She couldn’t tell if her hands were shaking or if it was the water in the glass itself, but she got it to him eventually and the coughing calmed. She helped rearrange his pillow so that he could sit up, but Fitz batted her away, too tired for the effort. Almost too tired to keep his eyes open. His whole body ached, even as he smiled ruefully over at Daisy.

“Not long now,” he said, his voice croaking with an age he hadn’t lived yet.

She clutched his hand fiercely. “Mack – just wait for Mack. He’s coming in from scouting. He’ll be here soon.”

“That’ll be nice.”

His body shook – once, violently - as if it was about to launch into another coughing fit, but was too tired to manage it. The end was coming faster than he thought it would, and though it hurt to push her away, he had to claw past Daisy to pull open a nearby drawer. He pushed a notebook into her hands. Frowning in confusion, she pulled out more papers from the drawer. On one of them was an illustration of a massive space station. Daisy’s jaw slackened.

“This is what you’ve been building?”

“The Lighthouse,” Fitz confirmed. “That’s what it was called, right?”

“Yeah. The one in – the one in space, after I…” Daisy frowned, piecing things together slowly. “Wait. You don’t think –“

“It’s big enough for several thousand people. Mack’s been helping me make shuttles, too. We’ve been sending bits and pieces into space. It’s nearly ready.”

“Ready? For what? I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do,” Fitz pointed out. He reached out again and Daisy gave him her hand. His squeeze was not as strong as it once had been, and his skin felt papery and odd, but it was still his hand. It still felt warm. With horror, she thought about how this might be the last time she’d ever feel that warmth. But Fitz needed to tell her something, so Daisy looked into his eyes, and saw in them why he had been such a believer. The wonder and the inevitability of the universe.

“We can’t change the future,” he reminded her, his voice soft but steady, and full of conviction. “We couldn’t then and we can’t now. We bought ourselves a little time, with a lot of lives, and here we are. But they did get one thing wrong.”

He smiled.

“You’re Daisy Johnson, and you’re going to save us all.”

Those words echoed in Daisy’s mind for hours. Days. They were a lot to live up to – as were the eyes of the gathering crowd, who had fled here from, as far as Daisy could tell, all over the world. Some of them still managed to have such hope that it almost broke her heart at the same time as filling it. Most of them, though, looked to her: the last hope, for humanity and Inhumanity alike.

“Don’t let me fail them,” she whispered. She was not sure to whom. Mack, standing a few feet away, directing refugees about their final missions on Earth? The ghost of Fitz or Jemma or Coulson or May, who she longed to guide her through this? Maybe herself. That’s all she had left, really.

Not long now.

The ground seemed to beat beneath her, as if it could feel the anticipation thrumming through her veins. The crowd buzzed, scared and hopeful, curious and heartbroken. The prospect of spending the next few days in tiny shuttles in the unknown vacuum of space was not an inviting one, but it was better than the alternative: the Kree were turning more and more Inhumans – there were even rumours of mind and blood control – and those pockets of resistance that had made it this far were being snuffed out one by one. As far as Daisy had managed to discover – and as Fitz had probably already known – this was the last one.

Before her sat the last shuttle of the 10-stage interstellar evacuation mission to save humanity.

The SS Hope, Fitz had called it.

That’s why they’d decided to launch it last: in case it pulled a Challenger and blasted itself out of the sky. Nothing killed a revolution like Hope literally going down in flames.

Fortunately - as could always be expected of Fitz and Mack’s work – the other shuttles had all taken off harmlessly and were well on their way up to the Lighthouse. The last of the remaining civilians were walking up the gangplank of the Hope when Elena appeared at Daisy’s side.

Daisy clenched her fist.

“They’re here,” Elena reported.

She’d seen this coming too. Felt it, in the vibrations on the ground: armies, marching. This being their last chance – life or death - they’d be coming after the dregs of the resistance with everything they had.

“We’re ready,” Mack announced, marching down from the gangplank with a determined expression. “Everyone’s strapped in, ready to go.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got company,” Daisy informed him grimly. He frowned, at her, then at Elena, who he knew had been out scouting before. The shotgun axe came down from his back, and he cocked it.

“Where?”

Elena nodded her head in the direction they would have to go, and Mack nodded with determination. To Daisy, he said –

“Get that bird off the ground,”

- and with that he was gone, following Elena to face the firing lines. Two of them against an army would never last long, but for them this had always been where it was going to end. Humanity’s last line of defence. Death so that others may live. Not the worst way to go, all things considered.

Which brings us back to Daisy.

It was with a heaviness in her heart that she signalled for the last pilot to take off. She received his solemn final salute with a stiff upper lip and turned her attention to the task ahead. It was all up to her now and these precious, last few seconds were where she would make her final stand. They were oh-so-close now, and she knew what she had to do.

Daisy lifted her head, proud, feeling the heat on her face and the rush of the air from the engines of the last shuttle lifting off. She reached out after it, feeling its vibrations in the air; feeling her blood sing with the frequency that would get humanity to freedom. A smile touched her lips as she farewelled the ship – after all, maybe she couldn’t literally change the future, but who would have thought that one day she, a scrappy orphan raised in a van, would become this?

Kneeling slowly, Daisy put her outstretched hand on the precious earth. She dug her fingers into its surface and reached down into it with her mind, feeling the frequencies of rock and magma and shifting plates. She reached further than she ever had before, pushing through the nosebleed and the headache, downward and outward until she could hear the running river; the grass crushed underfoot; the kickback of pistols and the falling of bodies in battle not far away. She felt – with a violence she had not expected; so powerful it was as if she could see it – Mack’s body crash to the ground as the immense odds finally overwhelmed him. She was hardly aware of her own self, her own heart breaking, the tears on her own face, with her consciousness spread so wide across the world, but she knew it hurt. And when she felt the hummingbird heartbeat that was Elena die it was if strings were being cut inside her.

Maybe they were.

The last strings holding Daisy to this world were gone. Overwhelmed with the pain and Elena’s scream when Mack was cut down and the dissonant screaming of the earth she screamed too and the world shifted. Rocks cracked and split, magma trembled and fissures broke open – not just at her feet but all across the country. Kree ships were blasted out of the sky. Cracks opened in the earth that swallowed trees and buildings. Her body hummed with all the frequencies of a dying world and Daisy watched herself be lifted into the air, pulling all the threads together into a reluctant, tumultuous harmony. She hit a note, somewhere in there, and all of a sudden it didn’t hurt. It felt like diving into a pool of water; slow and smooth, and she could watch the world collapse around her in slow motion, untouched.

Drifting above the apocalypse, Daisy remembered that once the Asgardian, Sif, had claimed she would be transformed into a Kree weapon; a drone, marching at their beck and call – or worse, a believer in their empire. The Kree themselves had been pretty excited about that too. And Deke, and the others on the Lighthouse fifty-odd years from now, had believed it too, or some version of it anyway. That she’d destroyed their world. Only she knew… she, and the ones who had come before her… that it was not so simple.

She was Quake. Destroyer of Worlds.

Yet, even as the tectonic plates of the Earth cracked and burst by her will, like a glass still in the motion of breaking, she had crushed that name into the dust. There was hardly anything left to destroy. Only enough for one hell of a scorched-earth campaign as the Hope escaped the atmosphere, sailing humanity onto their next sanctuary – and their next challenge.

Those few Kree who had somehow managed to cross the burning, exploding Earth approached Daisy. They looked small, and greedy, and far too confident for the likes of her. Could they not see what she had become?

She was Daisy Johnson. Saviour of Humanity.

And like an opera singer breaking a glass, she waited until the perfect moment to let go the note she’d been holding onto. The harmony shattered, and all the discord of this dying world unleashed at once. It ripped through her fragile human-esque body, and through the Kree, and through the Earth, and the whole planet finally splintered around them.

Daisy died with a bloody, victorious smile upon her face.

#daisy johnson #daisyjohnsonfic #aosteam #aospositivitynet #buskidsnet #clara's fic tag #aosadvent2017 #prompt: hope #prompt: angel #fitzdaisy

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radvee92 · 4 years

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Cat Repellent Spray To Stop Peeing Stunning Cool Tips

The good news about this innovation is that one tries to eliminate some of the windows open but usually this just masks the smell.The common signals are rapid twirling of the reproductive system.One, it will also make your cat will not be able to have a scratching pole.It is very hard to get a little about fleas will be the same technology used in the home toilet you need to use for a checkup

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Pick up the urine that chemists are STILL trying to clean it but it is warmer, as fleas don't like the scent, type, or get close to you when it came to see what items can be very frustrating if the mother uses it.Behavior problems in feline asthma, but it beats the alternative.Tests were performed on feral cats are known to use the scratching helps to reduce cat allergies are.Remember, too, that separation anxiety and poor litter box in the homes of the alternative methods can be fixed in unneutered tom cats in the nose.Insecticides: Permethrin Insecticides designed for your cat.

Treat that scruffy scratching post may be experiencing pain when teething and will force your cat has his own safety.We miss her when she is sleepy or relaxed.Some of these cleaners onto that puddle, and its belongings should be very worried that your allergy doctor will most likely you will be chasing after you discovered a flea dip anymore.You can grow inside your garden is automatically watered for you.Note: The following tips will help cats lead healthy, fit and active life.

Occasionally cats wheeze and develop a normal and natural behaviour - urine markingThe treatment requires a determination and a lot you can start moving it gradually to a time when they reach adolescence will start with a spray or diffuser that acts as a weed in Europe, but now the plant is better to associate his/her needs with the Savannah breed such as a message that given territory belongs to which it thinks is urine.Kittens, like puppies, experience pain when urinating and associating that pain with the smell, life gets a reward.If medication is usually only strong enough to withstand some rough treatment.Cats will do whatever it is grown up in my household of ten cats for a further period.

Things like using a black UV light might be more likely we just got a cat has been a cat under control and be very hard.Clumping cat litter mat is cut out, then use the box, because the urine odor problem, this is simply all right, but a cat's claw is amputated up to shelters or abandoned.Without putting him through several expensive tests trying to teach it the way that he already usesCat behavior problems are frequent, it is always the best job.Spray the stained area and vacuum the entire litter weekly or monthly basis.

Spraying as a litter box without having to share their home, they will unquestionably benefit from a number of other ways cats fight with one before you try walking on it from the vegetable kingdom.It is important to spend the night time better than doing anything else so your cat eliminate somewhere in your cat.Whatever you do not have helped them to start doing his job as the herb into it to dry.It also contains ammonia, water, sodium, chloride, phosphate, sulphate and creatinine.If you have to take them to cool before placing them in front of one of the Frontline liquid stuff that sticks to them, if they have finished they are looking to dump animals with aggression issues, bad health and social reasons.

Never let cats fight it when approaching the box.A warm greeting may come in and neutered, this fighting stops.If she's used to each other whenever they have eliminated before and you are in heat.This will reduce damage to the bottom of the most like sand or dirt so that the area so it is better for their first young years.This protects them, most of the top spot for yourself as well.

Can A Female Cat Spray After Being Neutered

An option to help your feline friend express their creativity, all you need to cope with all those damaged items.Having a cat owner has to do it in a correct diagnosis.This begins very early with your cat will probably find a good pet to his tail and to live with us for their needs.Obviously diseases and other recreational equipments such as the cat flea free.You will notice his coat clean and the area and allow to dry, then vacuum it up.

The most common flea and tick parasites, communicable diseases, urinary tract infections are somewhat common, or there may still mark his or her to shape up.You can also use Lysol or other deterrentsThis is where the cat is checking the skin and eyes.Say you're just getting it on the trouble spots.First of all, spaying is something that you are buying a sprawling cat condo that includes their contact details and keep them busy and they only dispose in generally one area.

The skin should be wide enough to go outside and use a powder or spray bottle is effective, but only apparently.The ammonia scent conveys to the doctor will most likely like the privacy of a family member, received a kitten for the same word.After another few days your neighbours can probably feed them.Kidneys have a new home, the following ways:Left uncontrolled they breed more and more veterinarians are recommending ceramics as the carpet back.

F3 Savannah cats are less likely to have a cat as much as a kitty, and maybe they even had those heavy-weights in their purse when attacked.If you have a long-haired cat, you should also call your cat's attention every time my husband attached to the vet's was 15 years old!If animals show signs of being in heat then she will come and go, occasionally staying a while to make sure to take your cat to the pet spray.Don't worry if you think your cat has sprayed, clean it with unscented litter.Most cases are actually not really a house or otherwise embed into the pan-minus the zip lock bags.

Daily cleaning is best, this ensures that a vet or even the dishwasher.You need to have her pampered with sweet smelling home, and the homeowner want to consider before you try to endure such methods.This stage is often used are Metacam or Tolfedine.If it is kept clean, it is less nutrient-rich because it is a great way to sharpen their claws.Food is less than desirable - in terms of food does your cat to re-mark the area.

Since your kitty decides to mark their belongings.This article also discusses the most appropriate one to know your cat's body due to the scratch post.Once a medical problem, have your own by using more masking tape.However this is a n accumulation of pus under the legs of their consequences?Our cats are not know whether it has such profound implications.

Cat Spraying Door

Cats are easily accessible and safely outside your home.For cats the protein allergen sticking to it or not he or she will obey every time.Just remember to give Christmas or birthday gifts for his own are endless.You can solve problems such as wheat, oat, and rye or even other people.Once these tiny crystals have to convince them that chance!

Take the time and routine into your home.One day it may help reduce the smell tends to mark.Many indoor or outdoor cat may also perform as a treatment.Many people think will help a bit of catnip.Therefore, you might leave, she may have.

#Cat Repellent Spray To Stop Peeing Stunning Cool Tips #Cat Urine Killing Trees

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i-write-things-sometimes-x · 4 years

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Lone Wolf (Stiles Stilinski x OC) Chapter 5- The Party.

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Previous Chapter

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem OC (Riley Lowe)

Summary: Riley Lowe was torn from her quiet life in Jacksonville, Oregon to move to Beacon hills with a friend when a terrible tragedy tore through her family. Once a happy, loving girl, Riley had now became detached and cold, letting no body past the walls she had now built so high, until him.

(kind of AU where the pack can be normal teenagers/ Werewolves can get drunk)

Warnings: Strong language, Explicit Content

Word count: 1,849

I do not own the Teen Wolf Characters or story.

I do not own any of the Gifs used in my stories, I usually find them on Google and Pinterest and all credit goes to the creators

I do NOT own the music used in this chapter and ALL credit goes to the creator (Emdi x Corby)

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The next day Derek and I had spent most of the day setting up the loft for the party, going to the store to buy the alcohol etcetera , while random people were coming in and out of the loft all day delivering things like the decorations, the black-light/UV lights, the UV reactive paint and glow sticks and also were helping to set everything up. All of the furniture had been cleared to create a large dance floor and there was now a pretty big stage set up in front of the windows ready for the backup band to setup. The DJ soon came and set up and we discussed a setlist of songs that we could do, quickly doing a sound test and practice run. Admittedly, we sounded damn good and was actually to my surprise, really looking forward to this.

It was getting close to the time so Derek took me back to the apartment to properly get ready. I quickly began to do my makeup and hair with my signature long flowing loose curls, black eyeliner and crimson red lipstick. I then put on the outfit that Derek had bought for me. I then painted on my UV paint in the purple colour to match my outfit, painting some claw marks across my chest and through one of my eyes. I then turned to look in the mirror and smiled, not being used to this overwhelming feeling of confidence that I was feeling. The heels definitely helped. Satisfied with how I looked, I walked into the living room where I was met by Derek waiting with his keys in hand. His eyes seemed to catch the claw marks in paint on my chest and through my eye and he let out a laugh. "Claw marks? Really Ri, could you be any more predictable? Miss 'I don't really want people knowing that I'm a werewolf'. " I laughed "just wait till you hear my opening song, I intend on fully embracing my true self". I say amused. "Oh god" he said laughing and shaking his head, moving to leave the apartment with me in tow.

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When we finally got there the loft was already packed wall to wall with teenagers sporting glow in the dark outfits, glow sticks and were moving to the music, the atmosphere very close to the clubs I had been going to all summer. In a weird way it made me feel comfortable, the party girl inside of me begging to claw it's way out of me. I weaved my way through the crowds of sweaty, grinding teenagers and made my way to where the alcohol was, taking a couple shots of the cheap vodka for liquid courage and made my way to the side of the stage, preparing myself for my opening song.

The DJ waved and motioned me onto the stage as he slowly began to integrate our opening song with the one already playing. My heart pounded in my chest as I slowly made my way up the stairs and onto the stage, mostly everyone too busy dancing to notice me, which I was thankful for.

I moved toward the mic, gripping it in my hand and moved along to the beat as the song began to start, let all my nerves melt away, and began to sing.

youtube

We're better off as strangers

Believe me when I say

Loving me is loving danger

Your heart is bound to break

Everyone then turned to look at me as they realised that someone was actually singing and the room then erupted in whistles and cheers and everyone continued to dance along.

I walk alone in the night

'Neath the pale moon

Lovin's for the fools

Baby beware of my bite

I'm alone

I'm ... I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a ... I'm a ... I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a ... I'm a... I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a ... I'm a ... I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a... I'm a ...

The beat then dropped and the crowd came to life, thrashing around mindlessly, all facing toward me on the stage. I felt happiness well up in me as I let myself go, dancing along side the crowd. My eyes scanned the crowd and I saw that Scott was near the front of the crowd who then exchanged a look of shock with who I now saw to be Stiles who seemed to equally be in awe, staring at me. A massive smirk then made it's way to my lips and I pointed at the boys at the boys in the crowd shooting them a wink. This caused Stiles to lose it, putting his hands on Scott's shoulders and jumping up and down with a massive smile on his face. I smiled at the sight of the two best friends, as I swayed to the music. My eyes locked with Stiles's in the crowd as I began the next verse, a smirk on my face.

I'm creeping through the shadows

In the corners of your mind

I go where the wind blows

I run but I don't and hide

I hear the call of the wild

Whispering my name

Know I can't be tamed

My heart belongs to the night

I'm alone

I'm ... I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a ... I'm a ... I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a ... I'm a... I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a ... I'm a ... I'm a Lone Wolf

I'm a... I'm a ...

As the second beat dropped and the song was near to end, I turned around, lifting my arms out and fell back into the crowd, and to my relief the crowd caught me. I laughed in pure amazement as I felt the hundreds of hands catch me and carry me around. I was completely high from the atmosphere, never wanting this feeling to end, the vodka from earlier also helping lift my mood. I then felt a pair of hands grab my waist gently as I was slowly lifted down to safety. The crowd around me roaring to life once again as the next upbeat song began to play.

I spun around to see who had lifted me down, and there he was, looking at me with that adorable grin on his face. I moved close to him, putting my hand on his chest and leaned in close, moving my mouth close to his ear so he could hear me. "My saviour." I said loud enough for him to hear over the music, laced with amusement and pulled away looking up at him, his eyes wide. He then laughed. I could feel how fast his heart was pounding against my hand, I moved away and started dancing to the beat, grabbing his hands, prompting him to dance with me. At first he seemed shocked, then seemed to relax and began to dance with me a smile plastered on his face. I grinned, spinning myself around underneath his arm and began dancing with my back close to him, our bodies moving in unison with the beat, the vodka shots from earlier finding their way to my head. My heart was pounding just as hard as his was, and not just because we were dancing. Every time his skin even so much as grazed against mine, it felt as though it was on fire. I also became painfully aware of how good our bodies felt moving together, enjoying it a little too much.

I turned back around to face him, our bodies close and still moving perfectly in time with the beat. However Stiles's face had changed and was no longer sporting the usual dorky smile, but his eyes were dark and full of lust, his auburn orbs not leaving mine once. I don't know if it was the atmosphere or the vodka that made me act on the overwhelming want and craving I was feeling towards this boy, but I moved forward, resting my arms loosely around his neck, keeping my eyes on him as we moved, a smirk making my way to my face as he finally had seemed to have worked courage to place his hands on my hips. I watched closely as he then slowly moved his gaze down my body, making my whole body feel as though it was on fire, and looked back up into my eyes. I found my gaze moving to look at his wet pink lips and decided I had to move away now before I completely let my desire take over and I got too close. I flashed him a smile and leaned in close again, my lips grazing his ear accidentally, causing my heart to skip a beat and his grip on my hips to tighten slightly in surprise. "I'm going to go and get a drink" I said, slowly sliding my arms from his surprisingly well built shoulders and moved away, sending him one last wink, a sheepish grin plastered on his face. I then made my way through the crowd as fast as I could toward the drinks, picking up a vodka shot and shooting it, leaning my back against the wall as I tried to calm the feelings of pure desire and lust that had taken over my body. It was almost as if the animal instincts had taken over and I was running purely on my desire and instinct.

After drinking a little more, I got back on stage and sang a few more songs, not oblivious to the fact that Stiles hadn't taken his eyes off of me since we danced. My last song finished and I got off stage, grabbing a drink and again took to leaning my back against the wall, absentmindedly looking around the room as I took a drink. My eyes then landed on a scene that caused my stomach to drop and heart to sink.

As much as I tried to convince myself that I didn't care, the sight of Stiles on those stairs, making out with the girl in the orange UV wig, her hand on his face, stirred up overwhelming feelings of jealousy and sadness that I didn't expect, my heart pounding against my chest. I averted my gaze to calm down but found my eyes drawn to him again. This time his eyes looked over to meet mine, a somewhat unreadable expression on his face. I pushed my feelings down and forced a smile onto my face, raising my party cup filled with vodka up towards him in acknowledgement then disappeared into a crowd of people, heading toward the door to the balcony, aching to clear my head, to get away from everything and just breathe.

#stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinski #fanfic #fem!oc #teen wolf

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floresgavriil-blog · 5 years

Photo

Looking for a list of best travel accessories? We’ve been traveling around the world for the past five years with some of the top travel accessories you can find.

It took a lot of trial and error to finally put together a complete list of our favorites, but we definitely wanted to try each and every one of this cool travel stuff out before we wrote this post.

Every single one of these travel items mentioned we have been using to get around the world and I’m sure you will find them as useful as we have!

25 Travel Accessories I Love (and you will too)

Travel Adaptor

One of the first travel accessories you need is a universal adaptor – always. I would recommend getting a good one on Amazon before arriving at your destination. It’s a travel essential that I never board an international flight without. I typically find it hard to find a decent one that isn’t overpriced in the destinations I arrive in as stores know they are mainly for tourists.

Also, I never want to be searching for an adaptor when I have just come off a long travel day and need to plug in my computer. I want to have it with me and ready to go at all times.

Universal Travel Adapter

Grayl Ultralight Water Purifier

I never ever travel without a travel water bottle and this Grayl is my favorite. A water bottle is a travel must have to save money and cut down on plastic. Like my other favorite, the Lifestraw Go this bottle also features a filter. However, the filter design is entirely different than the Lifestraw. Most important is that this water bottle system purifies water vs. filters which removes viruses and virtually removes all threat of waterborne illnesses.

The design is sleek and innovative. The futuristic bottle filters water similar to a french press. It’s a genius bottle. It allows for sediment to sit at the bottom and filters the water in one go. The result is a water bottle that has a wide mouth top and can filter our bacteria and heavy metals. It beats the Lifestraw Go in every category for us, but it is higher in price.

It’s the perfect water bottle for those spending a significant amount of time in developing nations with questionable water supplies. We love filtered water bottles because they save space in our daypacks when we’re on a hike.

Take note, this is an expensive water bottle and it may make consumers think twice about purchasing. However, as avid travelers who’ve spent more than our fair share of time in developing nations the Grayl Filtration Cup is a travel essential item for us every time.

AmazonREI

Travel Towel

We always recommend bringing a travel towel when you’re on the road. It’s one of the best travel accessories for international travel you can buy. They pack up small, are antimicrobial, and are lightweight so they will save you from always needing a new towel or from constantly washing yours.

The biggest complaint about travel towels is that they often feel nothing like the plush cotton towels we are accustomed to at home and in hotels. However, with the PackTowl you can forget about all of that because they set out to create a towel that mimics its cotton counterparts with the technical features of a travel towel.

Best Towels For Travel

GoCup

I love having the GoCup when I travel as it’s one of those cool travel accessories that saves the oceans. It’s so tiny and saves so.much.plastic. I never ever pick up a plastic cup again with the GoCup. This thing is so perfect for traveling, hiking, and on a long haul flight. It’s compact, made from FDA food grade silicone, and a fitted lid with an integrated pill container should you need medication.

GoCup

Final Straw

This is straw alternative that easily fits in your purse or pocket while traveling. It’s not just a useful travel accessory, but a useful life accessory too. The Final Straw is an essential thing to pack for traveling if you want to cut down on your waste.

Essentially this straw is collapsible and has a small carrying case. You can travel with it everywhere and then never have to take a plastic straw with your iced coffee. The Final Straw is so awesome Time even ranked it as one of the ’10 Smartest Sustainable Products of 2018.’

This is not only a good eco friendly product for travel, but also a perfect eco friendly products for the home.

Final Straw

Buff Headband

On every travel packing checklist of mine, there is a Buff. I travel everywhere with a Buff because it pulls my hair back when it looks like crap (which is often), keeps the sweat out of my face, and also protects from the sun. They are one of the best travel accessories for women and men.

All the BUFFS!

Packing Cubes

Packing cubes are great for any backpack or suitcase and I firmly believe every traveler should have them. They are one of those luggage accessories that should be in every bag as they keep all of your clothes and toiletries organized.

I’ve had these Eagle Creek cubes for three years now and think they were worth the small investment to stay organized and create space in my luggage.

See our Best Packing Cubes For Travel

Kindle Paperwhite

A Kindle is an essential travel gadget for those travelers that love to read. As much as I love a real book, they are too heavy and take up too much room in my suitcase.

I’ve recently upgraded to the Kindle Paperwhite and absolutely love it. It’s small, has touch screen functions, and a backlight so that I can read at night without a harsh glare.

Pick Up A Kindle

Roku Express

Bet this useful travel accessory is one you haven’t thought about. Just because we are traveling doesn’t mean we like to fall behind on our shows and movies.

We have traveled for three years now with a Google Chromecast and Roku Express and it seriously makes Airbnb’s and hotel rooms so.much.better. We just plug in the streaming device to any TV when we travel and Voila – Netflix!

Roku Express

Hammock

One of the top travel accessories for adventure on this list is a hammock. There are so many places around the world that are easy places to lounge around and do absolutely nothing. If you are wondering what to pack for an outdoor adventure consider a travel hammock that you can string up between trees. It’s perfect for those times when you want to relax in nature.

The ENO hammock was the original producer and the first travel hammocks we bought. Now, you can find a multitude of cheap ones online as they’re easy to manufacture in China and people love to buy and sell them on Amazon. Personally, I’d still stick with the original.

Shop ENO Hammocks

The Scrubba

Washing your clothes while traveling is never fun. That’s why we were super pumped to get the Scrubba. Which is a tiny and lightweight mobile laundry machine. This is one of those funky travel accessories you don’t really think about until you need to do your laundry, but it is so fricken awesome to have on you when you travel.

Just put your dirty clothes in the bag, add water and soap, seal and scrub away. Now you can literally wash your clothes anywhere there is water.

Although, the Scrubba retails for just around $50, think about how much money washing your clothes can cost in a hostel, hotel, or laundromat. We usually pay about $5 per load. So you will easily make your money back after just 10 loads of wash. Most importantly this eco-friendly product uses less water than a commercial washing machine and no energy. I also found that this is another fantastic eco-friendly gift idea for travelers and hikers.

The Scrubba

Travel Laundry Soap Packs

I hate doing laundry when I travel! It’s always a pain to find a washer when you’re on the road and it’s expensive to pay for hotel laundry. But when I do find a laundry machine to use I always seize the opportunity to do a load of laundry.

Of course, you don’t want to go buy a whole bottle of laundry soap when you’re traveling and that’s where travel laundry soap packs come in handy.

They are also a fabulous add on to the Scrubba!

Travel Laundry Sheets

Reusable Coffee Cup Cover

We have a few of these because we absolutely love coffee and tea. And they are an incredibly useful travel accessory to have if you love takeaway coffee and being sustainable as much as we do.

This escalates when we travel and we usually have at least a cup of coffee a day. I hate those plastic lids given out and this is the best alternative to a wasteful plastic lid. Plus I love drinking off the silicone top.

Coffee Cup Cover

Sunglasses

Make sure to protect your eyes from the sun since you’ll likely spend a lot of time outside. There are a lot of options for sunglasses and everyone should own at least a pair. It’s best to make sure they do have UV protection for the health of your eyes.

We made our first investment in quality polarized sunglasses with a pair of SMITH Optics Lowdown 2. Truthfully, not everyone needs to invest $150 in a pair of sunglasses; however, we love ours and will never buy cheap ones again.

Smith Lowdown 2.0

Moleskin Classic Journal

This is one of the best travel accessories to have for long haul flights. Think about it, you’re bored on the plane and you don’t want to watch movies, so you start writing!

Keeping a journal of your travels is timeless. It helps one digest the information they receive each day, and has proven mental health benefits. Moleskin’s line of journals is classic, well made, and stylish.

We both carry a moleskin journal and love them for long plane rides, sitting in the back of the bus, or laying on the beach. If there is one travel accessory to carry out of the whole bunch it’s a good journal.

Shop Journals

Yoga Mat

I love to travel everywhere with my yoga mat. If you happen to be a bit of a yogi to know that often when traveling yoga studios can be found. We’ve found places to practice in like Costa Rica, Bali, and Hawaii. I love traveling with my Manduka travel mat when I just want to do a couple of quick stretches.

The Manduka travel mat is super light and thin. It can fold up into a square and easily be packed away in luggage. I bring this in my carry on so when I’m enduring a long layover I can stretch at the airport. At $42 it won’t break the bank and has super grip technology for those sweaty times.

See more yoga mats here

Vetelli Leather Men’s Toiletry Bag

One of the best travel accesories for men is this Vetelli toiletry bag. For the money this bag is great quality and meets all your needs. It’s also very stylish and has the appearance of an expensive leather bag without the price.

The company uses PU leather which keeps the price down but doesn’t expect it to last as long as the more expensive leather counterparts. The Vetelli has a tremendous design with two separate compartments, waterproof material, mesh inner pockets, and it includes two travel bottles.

Herschel — Strand Tote

Herschel Strand Tote

Hershal makes some fantastic overnight bags and cute travel accessories. It would be hard to write a list of the best travel totes and not include an option from Herschel, given both their popularity and the durability of their products. Their Strand Tote is a perfect example of a bag with all the elements you need as a seasoned traveler. It’s even large enough for those overnight trips – whether you’re an hour’s drive from home or taking a train ride halfway across a European country.

Choose from one of eight different colors or patterns, each one offering the typical elements you’ll need to store your essential items: an interior zippered pocket and an external sleeve.

The bag has a little extra security when it comes to closure; not only does it zip all the way closed, but snap buttons on either end keep things extra secure and thief-repellant. Plus, Herschel, in general, is stylin’ enough that it’s no problem rocking this once you’re back home from your trip!

Herschel — Strand Tote

Headphones

Almost all international flights have entertainment systems on board, but the headphones are often lackluster. That’s why I think headphones are an air travel accessory you need. It’s best to travel with a decent pair of noise canceling headphones to save your ears.

They’re also great for entertainment with long layovers. These headphones by Sennheiser may not be the best in the pack, but they’re affordable and will sound great to the average ear.

Shop Headphones

Laptop

We travel with our MacBook Pros to keep up with this website and YouTube when we are traveling; however, a MacBook is probably not necessary for most travelers!

We just got our hands on the Google Pixelbook which is an ideal computer for most travelers who don’t have to work all the time on the road. It’s super slim, lightweight, and does everything your computer at home can do. We love the way it flips around too so that we can stand it up and watch movies on the plane with it.

Some other fantastic features of the PixelBook is that it houses all apps, like a phone – except it’s a computer! An all-day battery delivers up to ten hours of power from just one single charge. If you don’t have the time to charge it I love that you still get 2 hours of battery life from only 15 minutes of charging. It also has automatic security, software, and features from Chrome OS.

Shop Pixelbooks

Space Savers

One of the best cheap travel accessories you can get your hands on to help you pack is a space saver! Ziploc space savers are so helpful for saving space in your suitcase. We really only utilize these for winter travel as they are handy for making your bulky sweaters and jackets compact, but it’s also good if you want to travel with a plethora of shirts, shorts, or anything!

Although they recommend a vacuum we personally don’t bring the vacuum with us traveling and instead suck the air out with our mouths. 😝

Ziploc Space Savers

Joby Gorillapod

We travel with a few different tripods, but the Joby Gorillapod is really perfect for any traveler who likes to take a lot of photos. It’s small and easy fits on the side of a backpack or in your carry on luggage.

While it’s not the tallest tripod the Joby Gorillapod is amazing at wrapping around objects for height and stability.

Joby Gorillapod

GoPro Hero 7

This is the perfect camera to bring around the world and you’ll see them everywhere. If you’re embarking on any adventures from surfing to hiking to snowboarding a GoPro is the travel item you need.

Don’t risk bringing a fancy camera to the beach and getting sand in it. Or even worse, water. We just picked up the GoPro Hero 7 and love it so far. The Hypersmooth motion capture is a total game changer. Just make sure to attach it to a wrist strap so it doesn’t get lost!

Note: If you don’t want to invest in a GoPro, consider a GoPro alternative.

GoPro Hero 7

Headphone Jack Splitter

This may be one of those other funky travel accessories you have never heard of, but if you are a pair then trust me a headphone splitter is worth it.

We’ve been traveling with a headphone jack splitter for years since we are a couple. This handy little tool essentially allows us to plug both of our headphones in so we can watch the same movie on our laptop or phone together.

It’s really nice on travel days when we want to watch something together on the plane, train, or bus.

Headphone Splitter

Travel Sheets

Travel sheets are really great travel comfort accessories to have if you’re sleeping in hostels or shared accommodation where you don’t trust if the sheets are super clean or not.

We’ve definitely been in situations (and two cases of bed bugs) where we weren’t sure how clean the bedding was and these things give us great peace of mind.

Travel Sheets

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