#will I get to the other vesuvius. honestly unlikely.

[fanning-the-flames]

Now for something different, the burning of Lotus Pier after Giuseppe de Nittis’ painting The Eruption of Vesuvius of 1872. Admittedly this one is closer to being just a repaint with very few details adjusted to recall the scene.

If you are not familiar, de Nittis was an Italian painter who was master of light and a contemporary of the famous Paris Impressionists. If you are lucky enough to have his work nearby (they rarely leave Europe) DEFINITELY seize the chance to see them in person!

I had actually a different Vesuvius painting of his in mind for a repaint for a different scene, but you know, I ignored the last chance I had to paint the burning of Lotus Pier so I had to do it this time.

Now for the closeup no one asked for:

#cql #the untamed #mdzs fanart #lotus pier #giuseppe de nittis #cw: fire #angst alert #horrors of war and other disasters #landscape #will I get to the other vesuvius. honestly unlikely.

[bohemianrequiem]

The Tablet of Vesuvius Caper

Despite the holiday season being over, and the crowds of eager tourists that entailed having gone home, security was no less tight that night at the Piazza del Campidoglio. Especially at the Piazza’s flagship building, the Capitoline Museums.

“Which, despite it’s name-“Player’s voice remarked quietly into her ear. “-Is actually only a single museum containing multiple different groups of archeological finds, relics, and artwork. Pretty neat, huh?”

Carmen couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of her lips as she swiftly crossed the distance between two adjacent buildings. Safely in the shadows, she replied, “Extremely.” Her voice silent on the warm wind that blew in from the Mediterranean. “But did you know that the Capitoline Museums are also widely regarded as being one of the first museums in the world after it was opened up to the public by the Pope in 1734?”

“Not bad, Carm. You’ve definitely done your research. Now it’s time to hope the research I did was all correct too. I’ve got the passcode generator fired up, so just get to the Museums’ emergency backdoor and I can make a key to get us in.”

Having gone over the layout of the Piazza and the various buildings that called it home again and again in preparation for this caper, Carmen knew that the door Player spoke of was just a short distance ahead of her. Although it was officially an emergency exit only to be used in case of a fire or similar disaster, it’s purpose tonight would be as their perfect entryway into the Museums unseen.

Or at least, it was meant to be. As Carmen approached the door, she noticed that the passcode protected lock already shone a bright green. Meaning someone had unlocked the door and intentionally left it so, most likely to help speed up their get away.

“Player, we’ve got trouble.” She swung the door open and stepped inside.

“You’re telling me. Cameras are already down, and I’m not the one who turned them off. You’ll be going in blind, Red.” His voice wavered as he spoke. His worry for Carmen’s well-being evident from his warning.

“I’ll manage. You just focus on getting those cameras back online.” As she moved through the Museums back hallway, Carmen wracked her brain for who might have been able to infiltrate the building before her.

El topo and Neal were both out: Topo would have just dug his way in, and Neal would have likely opted for using the ventilation system rather than the backdoor. What about Mime Bomb? Or maybe Tigress? They had both used Dr. Bellum’s technology to gain an edge against her in the past.

“Whoever hacked into the Museum’s security definitely knew their stuff. I can barely find any trace of their online infiltration.” Player remarked. Carmen listened intently for a moment before opening another door that led further into the interior. Now she was passing by walls of centuries old artwork, heading towards the section possessing what both her and VILE were after.

“Are you saying you won’t be able to reactivate it to give us an advantage?” She peered around a corner before proceeding to the archeological relic gallery.

“Never said that Red.” Player’s smirk was practically audible, as a few keystrokes later he snapped his fingers. “Bingo! I’ve reactivated the cameras in the wing you’re headed. And…. oh no.”

Carmen stiffened as she heard the crackle of professional issued radios reverberate off the walls around her. As stealthily as possible, she slipped open the door leading to the archeology wing and closed it shut behind her. “I could hear security in the artwork gallery. Who do you see? Tigress? Le Chevre? The Mime?”

“None of them. It’s somebody I’ve never seen before.” A few moments of silence. “He has it! Carmen, he has the Tablet of Vesuvius!” That’s all Carmen needed to hear. With a sudden burst of speed that threw all caution of being caught to the wind, she rushed into the main viewing room just in time to watch as a man in a bright blue coat gently tuck the treasured tablet away in a rough-spun drawstring bag.

Having heard the sudden commotion, the man looked over his shoulder and shot her a curious half-smile. “Oh, you’re new.” He had neat sideburns stretching down to his bottom jaw, an impeccable black button up, and a contrasting red tie. He wasn’t much taller than Carmen herself but carried about him an air of relaxed confidence. Like he’d done this same thing a hundred times.

“I could say the same for you. Aren’t you a little old to be a new graduate of VILE’s? Or are they having to start calling in the benchwarmers just to keep up with me?” She took a few strides forward, urging the man to keep talking and keep his mind off trying to find a way past her.

“Lady, I’ve honestly got no idea what you’re on about.” He tucked the tablet bag close to his chest, as if he were carrying a small child, and took a few steps backwards from the recently pilfered display case. “What I meant was that you must be a new friend of Pops’. It really warms my heart to see him playing so well with others. A fellow detective trying to track me down, am I right?”

Now it was Carmen’s turn to stare incredulously at the man across from her. “Pops? Who on Earth are you talking about?” He was well within range of her grappling gun. If she could just get a clear shot at the bag, then the tablet would be safely in her hands.

The stranger looked her up and down. “Y’know now that you mention it, you do have significantly better fashion sense than most detectives and private eyes I’ve encountered.” His grip on the sack tightened. “Which can only mean that you’re a rival thief here to steal the same treasure as me.”

Carmen smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “Guilty as charged. Now put the relic back where you got it from before I have to take it from you.”

The male thief quirked an eyebrow. “A thief who steals precious treasures just to return them. What a waste! I, on the other hand, have a much better idea of what to use the tablet for.” Carmen only had a moment’s time to react as he raised his hand in the air. Reflecting off the moonlight streaming in through the windows, her eyes caught a small spherical object between his fingers just as he slammed it down to the floor.

In an instant, the area where the thief had been was rapidly being enveloped by a layer of thick white smoke. “Player!” Carmen called into her earpiece, rushing into the smoke to find any trace of her quarry.

“I’ve got eyes on him. He went out a door at the back of the room leading off the main showroom.” Despite the heavy smoke hampering her vision, her expertly trained eyes cut through it and homed in on the door the thief had absconded through. Without a moment to lose, Carmen rushed towards the door and nearly stampeded over the man on the other side.

Before she could make any kind of comment about having caught up with him so easily, Carmen saw why the man had stopped in his tracks so early on in their chase. Standing halfway through the narrow hallway was a figure dressed up in lime green and black punk rock attire.

“Paperstar.”

“Carmen Sandiego.” Her piercing gaze shifted to the blue coated man beside her. “And associate. I’ll say this once. Hand over the relic and I’ll let you both leave this place. Try to run away and…” She produced a sheet of brightly colored construction paper from a holster on her thigh and deftly folded it into a dangerously accurate looking replica of a shuriken.

The male thief scoffed, pushing his way past Carmen and closer towards the VILE operative. “Or what? You’ll pelt us with your papier-mâché?”

Paperstar frowned. “I’ll do much more than that to you, monkey face.” She reared her hand back and threw the paper shuriken with all her weight behind it.

“Monkey face?! Why do people keep saying-“

“Move!” Carmen tackled him to the ground just as the folded weapon sliced through the space they had previously been occupying. It lodged itself deep into the mahogany door behind them, earning a nervous squeak from the blue sporting thief.

“Crap! Nice save, Red.” He wiggled his way out from underneath Carmen and reached deep within the folds of his blue jacket to produce a small pistol. Just barely had the sound of crinkling paper reached his ears did he notice that Paperstar had now resupplied herself with half a dozen paper shurikens.

“Stop it! Both of you!” While the male thief was still down on one knee, Carmen had already thrown herself back up onto her feet and was yelling in a hushed tone. “If you two go to shooting and throwing things at each other, the guards will be on us in seconds. Then nobody gets the tablet.”

The other two thieves seemed to consider this for a moment. “That tablet belongs to VILE, Carmen. Make this easy on yourself for once and have your henchman give it up.”

“Henchman? I’m nobody’s hired goon, little Miss ‘Papercut’.”

Before further aggravations and taunts could be hurled, Carmen spoke; “The tablet *belongs* in a museum. Not to you, not to VILE, and especially not to this guy.” She glowered down at the thief, eyes shifting to the tablet hidden away inside the drawstring bag in his other hand. “What does VILE even want with such a random piece of Roman history?”

Paperstar shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Perhaps unused to going so long without folding something with her idle hands. “Professor Gunnar simply tells me what to steal and where. I make a point of not asking too many questions, unlike a certain little Black Sheep.”

Now it was the blue coated thief’s turn to interject on Carmen’s behalf. “Maybe I could be of some help in shedding light as to why any of us are interested in this little beauty.” He stood up, pocketed his weapon, and dusted off his jacket’s shoulder pad.

“The Vesuvius Tablet, one of the most famous relics recovered from the site of the ancient Roman city of Pompeii. Famous, in fact, for the depiction of Mount Vesuvius on it’s front and the seemingly indecipherable text on the back. It’s neither Roman nor Greek, not even early Persian or Aramaic.”

“So, it’s in a language nobody’s ever discovered.” Carmen had read up on the history of the tablet. From it’s recovery in 1750, to it’s public release to the Capitoline Museums’ archeological gallery just last year. Despite those countless hours of research, she still couldn’t understand why VILE sought to pillage the item.

“I never said that, Ms. Sandiego.” He smirked, a knowing thing that did little to make her thing the tablet was any better off with the male thief than VILE. “According to some confidential reports from the first excavation team sent by the king of Naples, the Tablet of Vesuvius initially read something like a map. However, the further the tablet was taken away from it’s resting place in Pompeii, the more illegible the words on it became.”

Paperstar chimed in, a giggle playing on her lips. “You don’t seem to know when to shut your mouth, do you, old man? I can help with that.” She shifted a foot backwards, preparing herself for the coming encounter.

“So I’ve been told. I’ll try to keep this short and sweet then.” He lightly jabbed at Carmen with his elbow. “How about you go high and I go low, Red?” He whispered.

“What? But just a minute ago you were the one throwing smoke bombs and running away from me.”

“Yeah, well, seeing as you’re not the one trying to merc me at the moment, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to suggest a team-up. After all, I get the sense you and this girl really don’t care for each other.” The stranger did have a point. After all, the absolute worst Carmen would do is leave him tied up for the proper authorities to find. Paperstar on the other hand….

“You’ve got me there. Let’s move!” Shurikens as deadly as steel sliced through the air as the pair of thieves pressed an advance towards their neon green assailant. With a high jump, Carmen pushed herself off the side of the wall and aimed a kick towards Paperstar’s head.

She dodged but stayed distracted long enough for the blue coated thief to get in close and swipe her legs out from underneath her. “No!” The paper wielder fell flat on her back, with Carmen’s boot soon digging into her gut.

“Too slow, Papercut. Better luck next time?” She quipped. Before Paperstar could spit out the vitriol that was surely brewing between her lips, the communicator on her arm flashed bright green.

“Paperstar,” The voice of Professor Gunnar emanated from it. “Local authorities are en-route to the Museums. It appears a detachment of Interpol is already present on the grounds. This is an Alpha zero-one situation. Vacate the region and return to the isle immediately.”

“Interpol.” The male thief murmured. “Just what I needed.”

“Devineaux.”

“Zenigata.”

The two looked up at each other. “Wait, you have someone from Interpol chasing you?” Carmen probed.

“For the better part of my entire career, yeah. You?”

“Something like that. He’s more of a minor annoyance, but-“

Paperstar’s eye roll was nearly audible. “Wow, great, you two are such besties. Now let me up so I can-“

“Ah, ah, ah. What’s the magic word?” The thief dug into his pocket and retrieved a bundle of cylinders consisting of interlacing bamboo strips. He swiftly set out about attaching them to Paperstar’s fingers, much to her protest. “There, I’d like to see you try and fold paper with your fingers all stuck together.”

“What - CHINESE FINGER TRAPS?!” She raged, only succeeding in making them tighter the more she pulled. “LITERALLY WHY DO YOU HAVE THESE?”

“Oldest trick in the book, kid. Well, the book I just made up in my head, but you get the idea.” He pointed down the hallway. “There’s a stairwell that leads to the roof down this way, Red. Let’s motor and leave our little paper tiger for the cops.”

“Let’s.” Carmen agreed with a smile. They made their down the hallway just as Paperstar finally moved herself into a sitting position against the wall.

“I will find you, Black Sheep! VILE will find you! And when we do, there won’t be anything left for-“

“Jeez, maybe I should have brought one for her mouth too.” The thief opened the door. “Ladies first.”

“You think?” As she slipped by, Carmen carefully slipped the weighty bag from the blue thief’s hand. As he turned around to jeer one last time, he didn’t even seem to notice.

“Toodles, Papercut. See you around!” With the two of them safely within the stairwell, he slammed the door shut. Only then, when Carmen was halfway up the stairs, did he notice he was missing something. “Hey! No fair, I thought we had something going there for a minute!”

“Sorry, but I don’t exactly play well with other thieves.” With the door to the roof now in reach, she slowed and called back behind her. “Speaking of, they don’t usually go this long without at least telling me their name. What’s you?”

The blue jacket wearing thief appeared at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her, something like anticipation gleaming in his eyes. “My name, Ms. Sandiego? My name is Lupin the Third, grandson of the original gentleman thief, Arsene Lupin. And when I set my eyes on a treasure, I never fail in stealing it.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Lupin, but I think you’ll just have to let this one go.” Carmen placed a hand on the doorknob.

“Real quick, Red. Why do you think these people, the ones you call VILE, are after that tablet? And what’s stopping them from stealing it again later after you’ve left?” He took a few steps up the stairs. “Like I said before, that tablet isn’t just a pretty picture of Mount Vesuvius, it’s intended use is as a map leading to something. Only way to ensure VILE won’t want to steal it again is to steal whatever it leads to, right?”

Carmen wavered. If the tablet really was a map and it lead to some kind of…treasure, then VILE would stop at nothing to get their claws on it. “Okay, Lupin. So what exactly are you suggesting I do with it?”

“Well, seeing as I’m the only one privy as to how the map needs to be decoded, I’d say you can hold onto it for me. Don’t think of it so much as stealing, more like borrowing.” He chuckled. “How about another team-up? You hold onto the tablet, I can show you how to decode the map, and we take whatever VILE would have any interest in stealing. Sound like a plan?”

Player’s voice buzzed in her ear. “Carmen, Interpol forces and local police are surrounding the Museums. Zack and Ivy have the car running, but it might not matter if you hang around too long. How do you wanna play this?”

She debated for only a moment. The man was letting her keep the tablet, so in any case she’d still be coming out on top. He may have been a thief, but he at least seemed earnest about wanting to work together to outset VILE from getting their hands on the relic.

“Okay, fine. My people will talk to your’s and we’ll get a meeting place set up. There, we can decode the map and find whatever it leads to.”

“Music to my ears, Red.” He joined her nearly at the door. “Now, how‘s about we make our escape?” Making sure that the tablet was secure in her hands, Carmen opened the door into the warm Mediterranean night.

Bright spotlights illuminated the entirety of the Museums’ rooftop. From squarely in the center, a man in a dull burgundy trench-coat faced the opening door.

“LUPIN!” He yelled. “I knew you’d be here. You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back to Italy after last year.”

“Pops! So good to see you again after my, shall we say, extended hiatus?”

Carmen quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Long story, I met Leonardo Da Vinci. I’ll tell you next time. You get out of here, I’ll keep the Old Man and Interpol busy.” He winked. “I’ll see when I see you.” And with that, Lupin strutted out to meet Inspector Zenigata as Carmen excused herself to the shadows.

True to his word, the Italian police force seemed much more preoccupied with keeping their sights on Lupin than Carmen herself and she was able to beat a hasty getaway to Zach and Ivy’s waiting vehicle.

“Carm,” Player started once they were safely on the road. “Do you really think that Lupin guy’s legit? How do know anything he’s saying about a treasure map on the Tablet of Vesuvius is true?”

“I’m not sure. He seems earnest enough, but…” Carmen stared at the ancient relic in her hands, turning it over. “Maybe he’s on to something. See if you can turn up anything about those excavation reports he mentioned, the ones from the 18th century.” She checked her watch. “In the morning. You’ve got school tomorrow, right? I can’t have my white hat getting detention any time soon.”

Player grumbled. “Pfft, hackers don’t have bedtimes. While I’m at it, I’ll see what I can find out about this Lupin III guy. He sure seemed to know his stuff.” He shifted on the other end of the call. “Goodnight, Carmen. You did good tonight.”

“You too, Player. Sleep well.” Carmen ended the communication and leaned forward between the two front seats. “Guys, take us back to the hotel. I think it’s time we all got some shut-eye.”

“You got it, Carm. Ivy, get my ‘Post-caper tunes to rock out to’ playlist started. I’m going to merge.”

~~~~

“So, Lupin, you really think she’s the real deal?” Jigen hung a hand outside of the Fiat 500’s passenger window, gently shaking off the ash from the still burning end. He returned it to his lips and took a long drag. “She better be, seeing as you gave up the relic just to earn her trust.”

Beside him, Lupin thoughtfully scrolled through a number of news articles on his cellphone. “‘La femme rouge’, the red woman. She breaks, she enters, and apparently, she steals before others can. She’s done some impressive work.” He laid down his phone, reaching into the backseat to procure a book recently pilfered from a private collection. “I believe this could be the start of a beautiful friendship, or at least a mutually beneficial one.”

“And how about Pops? Was he happy to see you again?”

“As a clam. I gave him the old runaround, then borrowed a uniform from an extremely unfortunate Interpol agent at the scene and slipped away. Poor soul, was not a good day to wear the underwear with the hearts on them.” The two shared a chuckle. Jigen snuffed out his flame, just in time to help Lupin light one of his own.

“Now, what’s this about a treasure you were telling Red all about? You know I’m always down to get our hands on something shiny, but I’d at least like to know what kind of scheme you're cookin' up” Jigen pulled his lighter away from Lupin’s cigarette, giving him a few moments to take a couple starting puffs.

“Old pal, have I got a story for you.” He propped the book up on the steering wheel and turned a number of pages in. “And this one’s called ‘The legend of the Tomb of Hercules.’”

#Carmen Sandiego #Lupin III #my writing #Jigen Daisuke #Inspector Zenigata #Zack and Ivy #Infinity War is the most ambitious crossover- #Posts Carmen Sandiego meets Lupin III

[albapuella]

Getting the Laundry Done

AO3 Link!

Fandom: Homestuck; Homestuck 2: Beyond Canon Pairing: Davekat Summary: “The scent of laundry soap was in the air, and the dryer vibrated in a way which indicated that perhaps some belt or other inside was loose, but no one on that ship knew dick about machines, so it was just going to have to vibrate loudly in the appliance version of a wail of pain. Which was quite unlike the wails Karkat was making." Tags: spoilers for 8/23 update, Established Relationship, Porn with Feelings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Sex on a Dryer Author’s Note:  I ask for your indulgence on this one. This fic was born out of a discussion on the davekat thirst server where a bemoaning of a lack of dryer fics after the update took place. So, here we are. I wrote this in about 2 and half hours. I hope you find this fic to your liking.

The scent of laundry soap was in the air, and the dryer vibrated in a way which indicated that perhaps some belt or other inside was loose, but no one on that ship knew dick about machines, so it was just going to have to vibrate loudly in the appliance version of a wail of pain. Which was quite unlike the wails Karkat was making.

Dave had done extensive mapping of Karkat's body these last three years. He knew where the sensitive spots were: the parts to touch to make him laugh; the parts to make him moan; the parts to make him flush. His beautiful best friend.

Karkat's shirt, Dave's shirt, was already off, tossed onto the floor, exposing the expanse of his chest and the flushed grub scars. They were one of the more sensitive spots, and Dave enjoyed the sounds licking them elicited. "Dave," Karkat wailed, half-laughing, "stop teasing me, you—!"

Dave chose that moment to slide his hand down to the front of Karkat's shorts.

He could feel the bulge already writhing under the fabric. While he could take most of the credit, some credit was probably also due to this loud as fuck dryer. Maybe he could get Roxy to look at it? They already could do computers, right? How much more difficult could a dryer be. A moan from Karkat made Dave remember his priorities.

His fingers danced with the bulge through the fabric. "Looks like someone's ready to come out and play, aren't you little guy?"

Karkat groaned in a way which indicated his annoyance. "If I've told you once, Dave, I have told you a thousand fucking times: stop talking to my bulge."

"I don't know, Karkat," Dave returned, grinning, "I think he likes it when I talk to him." He leaned closer, his mouth almost touching the fabric of Karkat's shorts. "Isn't that right, little guy?"

Another groan from Karkat: acceptance, or at the very least, impatience. "Fine. Go ahead, waste your time chatting with my reproductive organ. Just get on with it. Before I—" he cut himself off, and Dave spared him a glance from his position between Karkat's legs. "Never mind."

Dave looked at him a moment longer before shrugging. "Okay." He turned his attention back to Karkat, Jr. "Okay, let's get you out of those nasty shorts." He pulled on the waistband, and Karkat obligingly lifted up his bottom to help. Dave didn't bother pulling them down any further than his knees.

"Do whatever you're going to do before I stick to this thing," Karkat commanded. Or tried to: he was starting to sound a little breathless.

Dave saluted. "You got it, boss." Karkat's answering scowl made him grin even wider. The bulge was writhing, but the nook was clearly feeling the effects of the vibrations, too. "I should talk to your nook, too," he said as he leaned in closer, rubbing the outside with his finger. "It's not fair to only chat up your alien dick--the nook needs love, too, right?"

"Oh my god, Dave," Karkat moaned. It was hard to tell if he was moaning because he didn't like the idea of Dave talking to his nook or if it was because Dave had slipped a finger in while he'd been thinking out loud. Nah, it was definitely the latter.

His finger slid inside easily enough that he added another right away. Usually, he was working from a different angle, but he knew he'd find them if he felt around long enough. Ah! There they were: he'd found the shame globe jackpot. He rubbed them the way he'd found Karkat liked the most.

Karkat gasped, and his legs closed just a little bit in reaction. His hands came down to rest on Dave's shoulders. "Fuck," he breathed.

"Maybe later," Dave said airily. He twisted his fingers, making Karkat shake. "Is this working for you?" he asked, continuing his ministrations. "Do you want something else? Whatever you want, you got it, baby. Just say the word, and it's yours."

The flush on Karkat's face was beautiful. "If-if you're going to ru-un you-your mo-outh anyway, at least, uh, put it to good use."

Honestly, Dave was surprised Karkat was managing to talk at all. Must be losing his touch. He guessed that meant he needed to up his game. "On it." Still working his fingers in Karkat's nook, he took hold of the bulge with his other hand.

Now, the bulge wasn't always a team player when it came to oral (it had a tendency to try going up to the sinuses if you weren't paying attention), but Dave had learned a few tricks over the years. Mainly, as tempting as it was to try to go full porno on the thing, the safer option was to only take in a mouthful.

He put just the tip of the bulge in his mouth and sucked hard.

Karkat wailed louder than the dryer. "FUCK!"

That was more like it.

The hands on his shoulders tightened to the point of pain, but Dave was too focused on Karkat and his shuddering movements to care much. If he mouth wasn't occupied with alien tentadick, he'd have started rapping about how beautiful Karkat looked with his head thrown back in pleasure. Karkat's legs were hooked around the middle of Dave's back, pulling him closer.

"Dave, Dave, Dave," Karkat hissed between his teeth. "Dave, please."

Dave gave the bulge one last hard suck before letting it free. His other hand remained busy despite the cramp it was starting to get. "How do you want me, baby?"

It took Karkat a moment to get his breath back enough to answer. "In me. Please, Dave."

He loved when Karkat got like this. "Your wish is my fucking command. Because we're gonna fuck, and you commanded it."

Karkat rolled his eyes. It didn't have quite the same impact when he was flushed and his eyes were blown. "Just... just fuck me already."

Dave stepped back long enough to pull off his pajama bottoms. He was a little too short to fuck Karkat if he stayed on the dryer while standing on the ground. Waiting until he got close to Karkat again, he let himself float the extra couple of inches he needed.

His dick had been hard for a while now (touching Karkat, hearing Karkat, smelling him, tasting him, all of that had a pronounced effect on Dave, Jr.), and he searched Karkat's hungry expression. "You ready? All systems go?"

A quick nod. Arms looping around his neck; legs hooking once more around his back.

"Time for blast off, then." Dave eased himself into Karkat's nook. The first few times they did this, he'd gone in too hard. Karkat hadn't complained, but Dave had seen the pain in his face and had forced him to come clean. He knew better now. Slow and steady and deep won this race.

He'd done this so many times, but each time still felt special. Like Karkat's nook was embracing his dick like Karkat was embracing the rest of his body: tight and desperate, but loving and sweet. This time, there was more vibration than usual. He grabbed the edge of the dryer to give him the leverage he needed so he could start moving.

Karkat melted against him, moaning hotly against his neck. "Dave, Dave, Dave."

Dave didn't think he'd ever get tired of hearing Karkat saying his name like that. "I've got you," he managed somehow. This was the part that took his breath away. "I've got you."

He was vaguely aware of Karkat's bulge trying to make time with his belly button, but he'd gotten used to that sensation in this position. There was a time when it used to make him laugh uncontrollably. There was a time when he'd worried that Karkat, Jr. might be strong enough to make his own entrance. He'd learned a lot since then.

Best to just let Karkat, Jr. do his own thing.

Karkat was kissing him now, and that was a lot more fun to focus on.

Dave had gotten good at not cutting himself on those teeth. A bit of a learning curve for both of them, really. Now, he barely had to think about it; he could just focus on how it felt to have Karkat's tongue meet his.

Karkat was clinging so tightly to Dave now that Dave could only roll his hips. Each roll elicited another gasp or moan. Each sound was like another shot of blood to his dick. Luckily, Karkat's mouth was so close to his that he could still hear him over the sounds of the dryer.

Dave was never sure if it was his fault (if he didn't have the stamina) or if it was Karkat's fault (Karkat was just too insanely hot), but he never could last long when he had Karkat like this. "I'm close," he warned.

Karkat huffed a laugh. "I-I think I might be, might be close, too." He buried his face in Dave's neck. "I love you, Dave."

No matter how many times he heard it, there was still a part of Dave that couldn't believe he was lucky enough for it to be true. "I know."

For a long moment, the only sounds were their harsh breathing, the slick sound of Dave's movement, and the dryer, wailing away.

"Did... Did you just quote Star Wars at me?" Karkat asked, incredulous. "Really? Now? Of all fucking times?"

Dave grinned. "I love you, Karkat."

"Well, I don't love you," Karkat mock declared even as he held Dave closer. "I hate you so much."

It was difficult to laugh with Karkat squeezing him so tightly against him and his nook still hugging his dick, but Dave was just able to chuckle. "You're stuck with me now."

Karkat's long suffering sigh was undercut by the moan it ended with. Then he did the swearing thing which meant Mt. Vesuvius was about to blow.

Dave increased his pace just a little, just enough to put them over the edge. "Come on, Karkat, come on." A tightly wound spring coming suddenly loose. Luckily, Karkat didn't mind cream pies curtesy of Master Chef Dave Strider. He kept grinding for the half minute it took Karkat to catch up.

Karkat finally released Dave to decaptchalogue a bucket. Then he slid off the dryer on wobbly legs.

Dave floated backwards a little and watched Karkat empty himself. The slurry hit the bottom, making a tinny noise he could only just hear thanks to the dryer. Then the bucket was gone.

The few times they'd done it on Earth C before everything had gone down, Karkat would give the slurry to Kanaya. He had no idea what he did with it these days. He didn't ask. They had few secrets anymore, but Dave figured he was enough in Karkat's business as it was.

"Did I do good?" Dave asked, lowering himself back to the floor.

Karkat smiled, his teeth jutting out over his bottom lip. "Yeah, Dave, you're the best."

"Cool," Dave returned as blandly as he could, which was not very when he was smiling so widely. Then his smile dimmed. "I mean, I'm kind of best by default. Since you're not, um..."

Karkat shook his head with tolerant amusement. "You are ridiculous, Dave. Just take the compliment. Like this: Dave, you did a good job. Oh, really? Well, thank you." He picked up his shirt (Dave's shirt) and slipped it back on. "Now, you try. Dave, you did a good job."

"Oh, really," Dave repeated dutifully. "Well, thank you."

"Much better." Karkat pulled on his shorts. "Go wash your hands and maybe no one will realize why we took so long doing laundry."

Dave made a pair of sticky finger guns. While he was over at the sink, he took a moment to wash his face off, too. They'd probably still know, but at least Karkat could think that they didn't. Karkat wasn't embarrassed to be having sex with him, Dave was very nearly certain, but he was still embarrassed when other people brought it up.

Once he was fully clean and fully dressed, he wrapped Karkat in a lazy hug. "I'm glad you're here with me."

Karkat pat his back. "You already know I'm ecstatic to be here with you."

They settled against each other, the moment stretching, lasting forever. Warm and loving. Then the sudden silence after the noise of before startled them both.

Dave turned to look at the now silent dryer. "I guess the laundry's done."

A disinterested hmm. "It can wait."

Dave smiled into Karkat's hair. "I guess it can."

#homestuck 2 beyond canon #homestuck 2 beyond canon spoilers #spoilers #davekat #fan fiction #mine

[kaesaaurelia]

does it almost feel like you’ve been here before?

For @whumptober2019 day 2: explosion.  Content warning for a lot of fire, very bad burns, and general description of of major city-destroying disasters.

Posted late because I went to a Bastille concert last night and it was amaaaazing but it was also very late when I got home!  (look don’t @ me about the title it’s VERY THEMATICALLY RELEVANT.)

This is about an OC (Vehuel, Principality of Chicago... and several other cities in the past.)

Everything had been on fire for quite some time, and Vehuel was comfortable with that.

Well, no.  She wasn't.  That would be a lie.  She was resigned to that, but if she was honest with herself she was desperately uncomfortable, sweaty and sooty and bone-tired.

Currently she was dragging a man out of a haberdashery.  Vehuel wasn't sure if it was his shop or someone else's, but idiots had been trying to save things instead of their own skins all night, so of course, of course it fell to her to 

rush into the flames and drag him to safety.  Heaven had been very specific about this one; something about founding a city.  As if they didn't have plenty of decent cities already, she thought.  Maybe if they could stop blowing some of them up they wouldn't need to have humans build new ones.

"This better be a really good city," she muttered under her breath, slinging Aeneas over her shoulder.  He was unconscious this time, which was good; the last few times she'd dragged Aeneas away from certain death he'd been inconveniently awake and very annoying.  On the other hand, the longer he was unconscious the more likely he was to die, and she wondered if maybe she should try and wake him up, only not now, not in the middle of the street.  The city was burning around her and there were Acheans goddamn everywhere, and she had to keep moving.

Aeneas moaned.

"I guess we're doing this now, then," she muttered, and

put him down in the middle of the street, sparing a miracle to keep him from losing his balance as he regained consciousness.

The man's eyes opened and he stared at her.  "What?  Who are --"

"Leave," she snapped.  "Run!  Now.  Don't even remember me!"  He stumbled out of the building and into the throng of people rushing north.

The building burst into flames as soon as they were out, and the shop windows exploded outward, flames licking through them and up the sides of the building.

They'd been nice hats, Vehuel had to admit, but no hat was that nice.  Humans had stupid priorities, sometimes.

She hurried northward, pausing for a moment to watch work at the Field & Letier building with interest.  As before, Vehuel couldn't imagine any dry goods could be worth more than lives, but she couldn't drag all of these people away, and it was a beautiful marble building.  It would be a pity if it went up in flames.  Unlike the little haberdashery, the store surely had firehoses inside; maybe they could save it.  She did a quick blessing -- If it goes up in flames, everyone will get out all right, she told reality firmly -- and left them to their work.

The press of the crowd made the stifling heat even worse, and she'd had to save a few people from being trampled while mentally cursing out whoever's idea it had been to build the streets and sidewalks out of wood, honestly, what idiot had done that?  She would have to talk to the -- the -- whoever was in charge of that nonsense.  Elders?  No.  Aldermen.  Yeah.

Assuming they survived, of course.

The bridge was made of wood, too, because of course it was.  They might destroy it to stop the fire from jumping the river again, but she decided to stand watch here and make sure anyone who tried to cross could do so before that happened, and maybe keep it unburnt for as long as possible.  But the wind was going to be a problem; it had been the main problem in San Francisco -- San Francisco, had Heaven even reassigned that one yet?  Why was it always her cities going up in smoke?  Two cities in twenty years was a record even for her, though.

In a crowded place like this she normally wouldn't have opened her wings, but people kept pausing to stare at the flames roaring through the city behind them, so it was easy enough to slip into the sky, unnoticed, and circle over the bridge.  She watched the crowd for an hour or so, trying to instill in them a sense of community and responsibility to their fellow humans.  It almost worked; she didn't see any pickpockets, although there were a few opportunistic people trying to seize things other people had dropped.  They nearly got trampled for their troubles, but Vehuel kept them out of trouble.

A terrible clanging noise nearly made her fall out of the sky, and she saw that the courthouse had collapsed.  That had been the bell.  She flew closer, sparks streaking across her skin, and spared another miracle to keep the flames from engulfing the prisoners as they fled the ruined courthouse.

She looked back northward.  The wind was picking up again, and the rising air was carrying her too far above the city to see much, so she dove back down to soar over the north side of the river, hoping she could keep the wind from carrying the fire over.  It had already leapt over the river once; she'd be damned if she would let it happen again.

Well.  No.  She'd be reassigned, probably.  Heaven had always been merciful to her despite her many mistakes.

She pushed sparks and flaming debris southward with wingbeats when she saw them.  There were little flames along the surface of the river now, and several barges were on fire.  The throng fleeing across the bridge was pushing and shoving as the fire raged on the southern bank of the river.

She landed next to the railroad tracks on the northern bank, needing to take a moment and recover her strength.  It was too much, too much to keep people from being crushed on the bridge and hover in the air and notice all the sparks and keep them away and oh, she just wanted to go back to hanging around in saloons with good music and better beer, smoothing over barfights and cleaning card hustlers out of their hard-swindled money.

But as she was thinking this, something niggled at the back of her mind, and she noticed a scrap of something aflame floating on the breeze towards a tank car, and she reached for it with a miracle, to extinguish it, to transform the liquid inside to water, to -- to -- anything, really -- but she was too slow, and the flame landed on the train car.

"Oh come on, that's 

not fair, you can't just -- you can't just take my miracles away!" he shouted at the skies, and immediately regretted it, because, well.  Of course they could.

Vehuel looked around for anyone he could save, anything he could do now, his plan shattered by the complete and utter indifference of Heaven to the plight of a vacation town known for its baths and brothels.  It wasn't a good city, but it was beautiful in its way; it was human.

Just then, a little scroll floated down from the sky, which was much more welcome than the rain of ash and pumice they'd been having.  He ripped it open, and read, hoping it was the answer to his prayers.

It was not.  It was the answer to a question he'd asked nearly a week ago, when he'd suspected Vesuvius was going to erupt and wanted to know if there was anyone Heaven wanted to keep alive.  He'd learned his lesson from Aeneas; much easier to save somebody by dragging him out of the city well before it was aflame.

The note simply read:

Whole town expendable.

Fine.  Fine, that was fine, then.  He would just -- he would just have to deal with it.  He'd get a new body, at least; he didn't much like this one, it couldn't handle solar radiation nearly as well as the last one.  He unfurled his wings and braced them against the rolling cloud of acid and heat he knew was coming.

Not that they would help.  It was just instinct.

And suddenly his feathers were aflame and his flesh was melting off, and oh, he couldn't breathe for coughing, everything was

pain and fire and she was lying flat on her back and the ground was hot.

"Come on, get up," said somebody, and pulled her to her feet, only her eyes were watering and she was coughing up maybe both her lungs at once?  "Calm down, Vehuel, you don't need to breathe," said the voice, not unkindly but still impatiently.

She did that.  "Oh.  Oh, ow."  One of her wings was still on fire, and she shook it out.  She wouldn't be flying for a while.  She looked at her rescuer.  "Michael!" she said, and then she couldn't think of anything more to say, because!  Michael!

All around them, the world was on fire.  "A beam of wood just fell on the waterworks," said Michael, "so the fire department will be useless."

"They're already useless," grumbled Vehuel.  "Why are you here?"  She could dare to hope, if Michael was here.  Michael actually took her seriously, which was itself a little terrifying, because Vehuel knew she didn't merit that, but it meant she would help, and at this point Vehuel would've taken help from anyone except maybe Satan.

"I have a church protected with miracles on North Avenue and Church Street," said Michael, "but this is -- this is, frankly, an extraordinary fire, worse than I'd expected.  It's far north but I don't know if the fire will peter out before it gets there.  You try to get people there and I'll try and keep them safe when they get there.  Understood?"

Vehuel nodded numbly.  "But why are you here?" she blurted out.

Michael ignored her, and took off.  Vehuel watched her go, then took a deep, non-coughing breath to steady herself, and waded back into the flames.

#whumptober2019 #no.2 #good omens #michael good omens #kaesa op #my ocs #text #fiction #tw: fire #tw: burns #tw: major disasters #this is very self-indulgent and I am happy with that

[awhilesince]

Tuesday, 12 February 1833

8

35/..

11 50/..

very fine morning till 9 then rainy – breakfast with Marian at 9 40/.. Fahrenheit 47° at 9 a.m. – then a little with my aunt and came upstairs at 11 20/.. settling my accounts with Cordingley till 12 40/.. – from 1 to 3 40/.. wrote 3 pages and ends and under seal to Vere – interrupted a little by the Southowram surveyor to say from Abraham Hemingway there would be a town’s meeting at 11 a.m. tomorrow about the inditing of the Siddal lane road and beg me to attend if I could – thinking I should name my intention of making the new road along Bairstow above John Bottomley’s – said I was much obliged to Hemingway for sending and sorry I should be particularly engaged tomorrow and could not go to the meeting, but that I should have said nothing about the new road as I had named it to Mr Freeman and found the Southowram people had rather not have anything to do with it – and as I thought myself doing them a favour not they doing me one, I should say no more about but merely make a common cart road for my own land – 

off in a hurry at 3 3/4 down my walk to meet Miss W– (Walker) not there – walked to Lidgate brought her back with me all along the Godley road and my deep cutting thro’ Trough of Bolland wood along the field to the house at 5 1/4 – then left her with my aunt and came upstairs to send off my letter – said I should have written by return of post but received V–‘s (Vere’s) letter just as I was going from home for a few days – 

‘Trust me I am never likely to be anxious to seem to know more of anything than you yourself have told me, – satisfied that you will tell me, in your own good time, whatever you wish me to know – that you are so well is an excellent sign; and I congratulate you, and you all, with a deeper and more affectionate sincerity than can belong to anyone whose interest for you is not that which passeth shew – On the subject of your return, I neither wonder at your own indecision at the time you wrote, nor at Lady Northland’s declining to give advice; for she knows well enough how much depends upon a person’s own natural fancy – I am glad you have now such plenty of connaissances, and enjoy yourself so much – you will have fine weather, too, and will get out every day, and be lured to stay out, and almost live out of doors, the best thing for us all’ – 

count upon seeing her, somewhere before they go to the Highlands – perhaps in London in May – She will have heard the change in my plans from Lady S– (Stuart) impossible to get off before May – 

‘my aunt has not been so well of late, and tho’ she is now better, her wishes are so urgent, that I could not reconcile it to myself to leave her now’ – 

shall tell her Vere my plans as soon as I know them myself – 

‘the being kept here till the end of May, and seeing you in London, might probably make some change in the direction of my journeying in its commencement’ – 

struck with her remark upon having trusted to the same hands as before to sent up my new establishment – glad she had written so long a letter to Lady Harriet

‘Many more unlikely things have happened than my seeing her chez elle before the 12 month’s end’ – 

shall get all the books V– (Vere) recommended – Long to see Vesuvius and Ætna – can one see all in Rome in 3 weeks? wish I could be in Paris in April – But for road making and planting etc I had merely vegetate 

‘But honestly and truly, my dearest Vere, the sight of you, so well and happy as you are would rouse me back into new life, and every feeling that could be agreeable – By the way I did not want to promise too much; but, if you are ever calling over names for a supernumerary promise of just 3 things, do not pass me by, unless, which is always probable, you have a host of others nearer, and better – I only hope you will not have left Rome before my letter arrives ….. How does the journal go on? I shall beg some little scraps if I can – the little book you wrote me at Hastings is inestimable – the very sight of it would cure me of vapours at any time – Remember me now and then, and when you do, thank that time will not wear away the ever anxious and affectionate regard of yours very faithfully AL– (Anne Lister)’ 

wrote all but the 1st 4 lines of today and sealed and directed my letter to ‘The Lady Vere Cameron poste restante à Rome Italia’ and left it for the post and went down to Miss W– Walker and off back to Lidgate with her at 5 55/.. and there in 40 minutes at 6 35/.. – dinner – then tea – botany in the evening – she a little on the amoroso  came upstairs at 10 3/4 and to my room at 11 we slept in her own room over the drawing room and not in the orange room as of late – fine day and evening –

reference number: SH:7/ML/E/16/0016, SH:7/ML/E/16/0017

#annelistercodebreaker #annelister #annwalker #misshobart #febmarch1833

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Thirty-Nine

Most of the time, I would complete my mission and then stay wherever I was stationed until I received my next mission. I had no true home. I imagine it's the same with others in my field: they all slept wherever they could find and made the most of it. Maybe some had many homes that they just accumulated over the years, though I imagined such a thing would be difficult what with always traveling around. Really, it was better that way. Less complicated.

Now, what was different was that I would usually find another city to stay in, another country, anywhere where I couldn't be detected. While it didn't happen often, there was a precedent of counter-contractors. There were competitors out there who would pay a good price to see themselves rise up in the ranks. I didn't think there would be a problem, given the mission was a special case. It wasn't every mission where I happened to deal in metaphysical things. No company would have opposed me getting rid of her, so there didn't seem to be any problem staying where I was at for a while.

Especially because I hadn't gotten rid of her.

Yes, she was gone, but if I knew her at all, she would be back. For someone with high intelligence, she seemed lacking in the wisdom department.

“Get a grip, Rhea. It's already been a few days,” I tried telling myself as I took a stroll through the city. There were many interesting sights: shops that sold healing crystals, a shop that sold only umbrellas, statues outside of buildings of ostriches and old men. Pigeons trotted and squawked about, just as they did in any city. Really, when you got down to it, all these cities tended to blur together.

I passed by a tavern. One of those places where people in my profession tended to get together and chat. Not to mention there was often lodging, which was perfect for us.

How long have I been at this?

I pressed my hand up to the window. Nope. Still cold. Still me.

Trick question. The answer is 'nearly all my life'.

Anomaly Report #42,069

'Rhea Flection':

“Hey, did you hear the story of that baby who was found under a sheet of ice in Antarctica?”

“Well, I did now.”

“Damn, it was all over the news.”

“Okay, well I'm a busy person, you know that.”

“So what happened is some researchers were stationed somewhere in the arctic and they found this baby wrapped in cloth just lying there in the freezing tundra. Thing is, though, the researchers found that she was still alive. She was rushed to the nearest hospital, somewhere in Greenland.”

“Really? No hypothermia? Pneumonia? Frostbite? Any of that?”

“All that and anything else you can think of. It was quite a miracle, really. She was sent to a foster family after making a full recovery.”

“No clue who her birth parents were?”

“None, though some tests were done and could identify some Inuit in her.”

“Oh, come on! We probably could've found a match!”

“Could've, or should've. No dice.”

“Damn. That's so hard to believe.”

“Yeah, but makes for a great mystery. Funny thing is, she's grown up with the constant feeling of being cold ever since. I swear, you could put her in a furnace and she'd still cross her arms and shiver like she was freezing to death.”

Yes. I've read the files on me. Rather unwise of them to pick one of their many documented anomalies to be one of their mercenaries for hire. They seemed to specialize in picking the odd ones, didn't they?

I stepped inside the bar and felt its chill.

Really? Air conditioning? They should've done the opposite and turned the heater on.

Then I remembered: it was summer. Right. It was just me.

In fact, I didn't even notice an air conditioning unit. No ventilation, either. So it was definitely just me.

As soon as I seated myself next to the counter, the bartender came over. Some burly looking man. Disgusting.

“So, what'll it be? A cold one?”

“I have a name...”

“Uh, right. What'll it be, miss...?”

“Just call me Cold One.”

The bartender groaned. What was his deal?

“Okay, fine. Miss Cold One. Are you gonna order something?”

I looked around, then faced him. “No.”

He started to look pissed, so I slipped him some money. “Just let me sit for a bit.”

When he noticed the cash I slipped him, his demeanor changed. “Certainly, ma'am.”

After I was sure he would leave me alone, I took another look around and noticed an empty seat to the right of me, just next to the wall. In another bar, pub, tavern, what have you, I must have sat there, or in a position akin to the one I had my gaze fixed on.

I remembered a time when I sat at a table not unlike that one in another tavern where associates in my profession had gathered. I sat alone, drinking a screwdriver (no, I don't know why they're called that. I've tasted screwdrivers. They don't taste the same).

“Well if it isn't the great Rhea I've heard so much about!” A strange and dubious looking man (so basically any man) came up to me, grinning a foul grin with his gray facial hair running amok.

“Oh? Then you must have heard that I don't like men.”

“What? I didn't hear that at all! Come on, why not?”

“Men are boorish, crude, disgusting, disrespectful, foolish, foul-mouthed, ill-mannered, irresponsible, lecherous, lethargic, and most of all, rude.”

“The fuck? Sweetcheeks, I'm none of those things,” he then proceeded to belch. I winched and met his response with a scowl.

“You are all of these things. See, I've heard a little about you as well, Douglas.”

He grimaced and took a step back. “Ugh, you're unpleasant.”

I nodded. “That's another word I would use to describe men. Would you like more adjectives? Let's see...amoral, brutish, crass, dishonorable, fickle, misogynistic, self-centered...”

“Hey! I think if you spent some time around me, you'd find I'm not all that bad. My line of work may not be the best, but it's easy money. Just gotta give people a good scare and BAM! Pockets filled. Tell me, how's that any worse than you killing people?”

“I think anyone who had to spend time around you would find themselves sooner wishing for death.” I took a gulp of my drink and wiped my mouth.

Such a memory was not a pleasant one. Honestly, fuck that guy. If I ever ended up feeling bad for him dying, all I would have to do is remember that conversation.

I got up out of my seat and made my way out of the tavern. Everything was so exhausting and the cold was tiring. Before leaving the tavern, I took one last look around. None of the occupants were in the same business I was, that much I could tell. Everyone was so ordinary.

There grew a certain resolve in me after leaving the tavern and walking once more through the streets. Beside me I saw a fountain, where many threw their coins for wishes. I had other ideas. I threw my phone, the one The Flashbulb and other organizations would use to contact me.

“I think it's time I wrapped things up.”

About a couple miles spent shivering and wading through crowds, I arrived at my destination and gave the door a firm series of knocks.

“Uh...Can I help you?” When the one I came to see opened the door, she both looked and sounded surprised. Guess I couldn't fault her for that. “Wait a second. Aren't you that weird lady I saw the other day at the shelter?”

“Yes, that would be me.”

“Well, what are you doing here? How did you know where I live?”

Hm...what could I say as to not freak her out...

“I...I've been stalking you.”

“What? You too? Ugh. Why can't you guys just leave me alone?” She was just about to close the door where I stood when she stopped herself. “Wait. You don't mean any harm, do you?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Would you like to come in?”

I looked behind me, then made my decision. “Fine, but I ought to make this quick.”

As I entered and closed the door behind me, I noticed the sibling in view. Chubbier, brown hair.

He peered out from the hallway.

“Who is this?”

“Don't worry, Trent! She's just a stalker!”

“Yeah, that's not worrying at all,” he scoffed.

“You should still worry, though,” I spoke up. “Both of you.”

“Why?”

“I'd rather not explain but it would be in both of your best interests to move elsewhere.”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “No can do.”

“What? Why not?”

“I work in the city, if we moved, it would have to be somewhere close enough for me to get to work,” the brother explained.

The cute one nodded. “As for me, I freeload off of Trent. I've got no job and no money of my own.”

“Money's no object to me. Tell me how much you need. If you need help finding a place to stay, I know plenty.” I scrambled to come up with means to persuade them. “I have connections. I can get your brother a job at another hospital.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Why do you want us to move so bad?”

“I'm...I'm just trying to do a good deed here...”

She placed her palm on her forehead and winced. “This is all too much...I'm already worried sick because Ves hasn't been home for a few days  now and she can come and go as she pleases, but usually she's back before I know it and she's usually never gone this long...”

“Ves?”

“Vesuvius, my wife.”

Right. Of course.

“Last time I saw her, we had a fight, which was weird, because we've never really fought before, but then again, she's not been feeling well lately, and that's probably been affecting her emotions.”

You could say that.

“What? You guys had a fight?”

“Yes, Trent.” She sighed. “Even though she probably wanted some time away, I was still worried about her, since she was sick and all. I found her at a shelter the next morning, right next to our stalker here.”

Okay, while that may have been apt, I was getting a little tired of hearing it.

“My name is Rhea.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “That's a pretty cute name!”

I was speechless. Why would she say something like that? My face must have made a hundred different shapes, trying to process what I had heard.

“Anyway, my head's still a little fuzzy on the details, but I went home and I just hoped she would come back sometime, but so far nothing.”

“At least it seems you've come back to your senses a little...” I muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh!” There she went again. Her eyes lit up and she raised a finger. “You were with her, right? You wouldn't happen to know where she went, would you?”

I shook my head. “You are correct, but no. Not a clue.”

She must have noticed me shivering, since next she asked if I would like a blanket or something.

“No, it's okay. I have a condition.”

“Oh, you're sick too? Just like Ves?”

“Not quite,” I gave her a weak smile. It was clear to me now why Vesuvius had taken a liking to her.

“Have you ever thought about getting it checked out?” Her brother suggested.

“Really, I'm, uh, fine!” I shook my hands in the air.

“I hope wherever she is, she's doing okay...”

“She's only going to get worse.”

She froze. Damn it, I knew such a thing was bound to happen.

“You make it sound like you know what's going on with her.”

“I do, but like I said, I don't know where she's at. I don't know how to explain how I know but --”

“I know already. You've been stalking her.”

“Uh...right. Anyway, to put it in simple terms, she poisoned herself.”

“What? Why would she do that?”

“She wasn't in a very good place and thought it would improve her situation.”

She shook her head. “That's so like her...”

I didn't know what to say to that. It didn't matter, anyway, since she continued.

“I trust her because I know she means well, but she's always trying to take care of things on her own.”

“I'm aware.”

“I get it, too. She's been through a lot and she's on one hand trying to be this mature woman and prove that she can be, bu then it's also like she's trying to recover years of her life that she's missed. It's hard, and sometimes she goes off and when she comes back, it's like she's forgotten a part of herself. But I'll always be here to remind her and take care of her. She may not be able to recover all the old parts of her, but I'm sure one day she can figure out what a wonderful person she is.”

“You're supposed her wife, not her caretaker.”

“It's not like that! She takes care of me, too! We help each other! I'm not saying she's always honest, but she doesn't mince her words! There's an assertiveness to her I admire in her. Most of all, I know she's kind as well. She's a wonderful person and --”

“...She killed your stalker.”

At first she looked taken aback, but then she just waved her hand and laughed. “I'd marry anyone who'd kill a man for me!”

“Really? Is that all it takes? Because I could do that right now if you want. Just tell me who you want me to kill and --”

“No! No! I was joking.”

“Oh. I see. Anyway, if it makes you feel any better, she acted in self-defense. She went looking for the man who was causing you trouble and thought she could get him to stop. He put up a fight, something she wasn't expecting him to do. I showed up at the tail end of the altercation, both of them pretty bloodied up. I was too late to break it up, and he nearly killed her, but she got him.”

That wasn't exactly how it went down, but there was no need to tell the whole truth. Like how I nearly killed her wife as well.

“So you said you saw this all happen?”

“Yes. I was hired to follow her around.”

“I thought you said you were stalking me.”

“I knew where she lived and by proxy, I knew where you lived.”

“Where I currently live.”

“Right. Look, I never claimed to be a good person.”

“You're right, but you did say you were trying to do the right thing, so that should count for something. By the way, are you hungry at all?”

“You're too kind.”

“No, really, it's nothing.”

“That kindness is a weakness of yours. Any stranger, no matter how dubious or questionable, you just try to be as courteous as you can, don't you? Don't you know how cold and cruel this world is? People will see your kindness and take advantage of you and bleed you dry. You may think you're just being nice, but the next thing you know, you've gotten yourself hurt, all the while the people you tried to help don't give you a second thought and worst case scenario? You'll have gotten yourself killed.”

“Hey, leave my sis--”

“No, Trent, it's okay,” she shook, and I thought I saw her face turn red. That was when she turned to me. “Do you really think of me as weak?”

“Clearly.”

She drew a deep breath, then smiled and shook her head. “Just because I'm nice doesn't mean I'm weak. Yes, I know how cruel this world can be, but I don't see things getting any better by being cruel along with it. I'm well aware of how tough things can be; I worked nonstop while Trent was in medical school so he wouldn't have to deal with endless debt. All of the money I made went toward him. That's just what we do. We help each other out. If there's someone who needs help, who's asking for help, I will do what I can to help them. If later they turn out to not be so kind, so be it, but at least I did what I could. Is that something you call weak?”

“I mean, if what you're saying is true, then wouldn't that mean you're just treating Vesuvius like you would anyone else? In that case, could you really say you love her?”

For a moment, she just stared, dumbfounded. I half-expected her to explode into a fury. Instead, she just blinked, then asked:

“You don't understand human emotions very well, do you?”

“No. No I don't.”

She pursed her lips and tilted her head. I couldn't tell what she was doing, though I was inclined to believe she was making fun of me.

“Would you like a hug?”

“I wouldn't mind...”

Before I knew it, she lunged at me and wrapped her arms around my back. She was pressed up against me, her arms wrapped tight, the sensation not being something I recognized. In a panic, I pried myself loose and got up.

“What was that?!”

“A hug?”

“I have to leave!”

“Are you blushing?!”

“N-NO! My cheeks are just red because I'm cold!”

I bolted for the door, not bothering to look back. Not even bothering to close the door behind me. All the while, my heart beat with a mortifying intensity.

Who knew she was dangerous too? What was I thinking going over there? Trying to play hero? Ha!

Part of me expected to see Vesuvius as I went to close the door. Then again, I knew that was just wishful thinking. Trent stood at the end of the hallway, just where he had been the whole time I spoke with the weird lady named Rhea.

“What was that all about?” Trent asked. I could tell by the look on his face that he was confused.

“I don't know, man. All I did was hug her.”

“No, I mean, why was she even here?”

I found myself pacing without even realizing it. Maybe I missed Ves so much that I was starting to adopt some of her mannerisms. When I noticed what I was doing, I brought myself back to the couch and sat down.

“Again, like, I don't know. She wanted us to move or something? She seemed pretty worried about Ves, too, but it seemed like she was being pretty vague about stuff.”

“We have got to stop letting weird people in.”

I shook my head. What a week I've had...

“I think I need to go take a walk. Maybe that'll clear my head.”

“Good idea, just don't go chasing weird stalker lady.”

I stuck out my tongue. “Just try and stop me.”

But no, I wasn't planning on looking for Rhea. I would have wanted to see Vesuvius, but that just seemed like wishful thinking.

Once I was a safe distance away, I let out a sigh of relief. My chosen spot to sit and recover was atop a small pillar besides a financial building. I placed my palm on my chest and felt my heart still pounding away.

“Be still, my beating heart.”

But wouldn't it be nice if I wasn't so cold all the time? If someone could hold me and warm me up? Massage my back...maybe leave kisses all over me...

I clutched my head. Why was I starting to think such things? I closed my eyes and yelled, not a care for who might have heard me.

“What's gotten into me? This is ridiculous!”

When I opened my eyes, I spied a nail salon just across the street. Then, an idea popped into my mind. Maybe, just maybe, I ought to enjoy myself a little. After all, my time in this profession was coming to an end.

Darkness continued to surround me.

“Right. It would have never worked.”

What a mess you've made. There you go, you created your own little world, and then you broke it.

“I can fix it. I can create a new one, I can do better this time.”

So just like The Flashbulb, then?

“Right...I shouldn't do that. It's better this way. If I just stay here, in this empty space.”

Alone? In what world would that make you happy?

“I never said I would be. I don't need to be happy. I don't need anything, or anyone. As long as I'm me, then that's enough.”

But who are you?

“I'm...”

Stop lying to yourself.

“I'm not! If I could be with her again, I would, but I'm not safe to be around!”

Her?

“Maybe it's true that I don't need anyone. Maybe it's true that I never needed her, that I just used her. Maybe I never truly loved her, but that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve to be happy! Like, truly happy, not just because she's been forced to be! She deserves a good life, a life that isn't so empty.”

No response that time. It seemed that my thoughts had left me. I reached through the darkness, felt nothing. That was fine, too. I would adapt. This was my home, and it was where I would stay.

Except you can't. You tried that. You broke it.

I closed my eyes. If I could shut out these thoughts, then perhaps I could finally enjoy something. If I just reminded myself that there was no danger here, that I could stay in this nothingness without anything going wrong, then it would all be fine.

You can't stay. Because there's nothing to stay in.

It was no use, yet again. Even alone, I was in conflict. My thoughts did nothing but serve to show what a mess of myself I had become. I screamed into the void, and then, I opened my eyes.

“No...”

Fear overtook me.

No more was there darkness, instead I was back in the city I had left. I found myself standing on the pavement at a park, the street not too far off.

“This can't be right...I shouldn't be here...”

Something wasn't adding up.

“Maybe this is a world I created, too, and I just didn't realize it. Yeah, that must be it!” I did my best to rationalize, and I ended up finding myself in a fit of nervous laughter.

“There you are!”

That voice...

I turned around and saw Juniper headed in my direction. I was reminded of when she showed up at the shelter, but something was different this time around.

“You shouldn't be here, you're not real!”

“Like hell I'm not!” She marched up and was now right in front of me.

“Nothing around me is real! They're all just props and puppets! I...I can erase you!”

“Oh, sure, go ahead,” she groaned.

She then stood on her tiptoes and raised her finger at me. There was a scowl on her face I wasn't used to seeing. “Now listen here, missy,” she grabbed my hand and I was taken aback. Her hand clasped mine, her fingers finding their way between my own. “You look me in the eyes and tell me that I'm not real!”

I looked down. Even on her tiptoes, I was still a head taller than her. Her eyes held the same fiery passion as the rest of her in that moment.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? What am I doing here? It's been days and I've been worried sick about you!”

“You shouldn't be here...”

“Bull-Shit!”

“I'm serious! I shouldn't be in your life!”

“Maybe you should've thought about that before you entered, then!”

“Please, just go. I've forced you to be mad at me, then tell me you hated me...I've been controlling you and it's not safe to be around me...”

“You're damn right I'm mad! Because...because...”

I noticed her start to shake.

“Because you can be real hot-headed!”

“What?”

“You heard me! I don't mind that you've kept secrets, but thinking that you're keeping me safe by making me hate you?” She gulped. “When I could never hate you!”

“But you should! I'm not who you think I am!”

“So what if you like to be rough in bed? I'm okay with that!”

“WH...That's not what I mean!”

She burst into laughter. “Okay, sorry, I couldn't resist. You should see the look on your face.”

“I'm being serious!”

“I know, I just thought I'd lighten the mood a little.”

What was she trying to do? Get me flustered? Was this some sort of divine retribution?

“Look...I don't know if you remember what I said the other day...if you were even able to understand any of it.”

“It's a little hazy, I admit. So tell me about it.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“You wouldn't believe me if I did that.”

“I don't care. I'd like to hear it.”

I didn't even know where to begin, but I couldn't deny her such a request.

“When Blanc was living with us, I thought them strange. They had on them a device which I recognized as one used to time-travel. After a while, I concluded that they meant no harm, but I still worried that they would disrupt the life I had established with you and your brother. I desperately wanted them to forget their past, whoever they were before, and just live with us.”

“Yeah, it would've been cute.”

“...Because that way, I thought I'd be safe. But then they disappeared. I feared the worst and the next time I saw them was in my office. They were acting strange, telling me how anything they wanted to happen they could make happen. They sent me to a place where in an alternate timeline, I was killed by the people who worked there. There I saw Blanc's abilities in action. They made people disappear and that's when I thought that if I had some of that power, I could be free.”

“I see...”

“Sure enough, I took that power. I extracted a sample of their blood and drank it. I don't even know why I thought that was a good idea, but it was like I was under a trance in that moment. The next thing I knew, my hair had turned silver and I returned here. I thought that with this power, I could finally be happy, but it's been making me sick.”

“You're right, that doesn't sound very believable.”

“See?”

She let go of my hand and crossed her arms.

“So, are you happier?”

That struck me. I shook my head. It was all starting to pour out.

“No! I should be but I'm not! Nothing I try works!” My fists shook as I spoke, but that wasn't all. My voice was shaking as well. “Every time I try to make things better, something goes wrong! Not only that, but each time I try something, I only sink deeper! Just when I think I've crossed the point of no return, the goalpost moves and I sink to new lows! There's nothing I can do!”

I began coughing and fell to the ground. Juniper grabbed me and held my head against her chest. She stroked my hair and wouldn't let go of me.

��Oh, bother. What are we going to do with you?”

I felt tears start to form. I wanted to stop them and wipe them away, but I felt powerless in the moment.

“Why?”

“Don't worry about it,” she cooed.

“But didn't you hear what I said?”

“It's okay; it's all a process, a series of trial and error. Most people don't figure it out right away.”

“I don't know what to do. I don't even know who I am or who I should be.”

“And that's okay.”

“I'm tired of you always saying 'it's okay'. It's not okay.”

“I only say that because it really is okay,” she stroked the side of my neck. “It's okay to not know who you are. Because whoever you are, I still love you.”

“You shouldn't...”

“I can't help it!” She laughed. Curses. Her laugh was adorable.

I managed to break free from her and I wiped my face. It was so unbecoming of me.

“Are you saying that because you're still under the effects of my power?”

“Maybe. But if it makes you happy that I'm not, maybe I'm not.”

“I suppose...that makes sense?”

“Hey, have you been seeing clearly?”

I could see just fine what a mess of a situation I had thrown myself in. Many messes.

“I mean your eyesight,” she added. “Did you use your powers to fix your eyesight?”

Oh. Right. I still never got around to doing that.

“No...”

“Well,” she smiled. “I think it would make me happier if you wore your glasses.”

“I don't have them with me...”

She reached into my pocket. I didn't even try to stop her.

“Oh really?” She placed them on my face. “All better.”

“How? Those weren't in my pocket before...did you bring them from home?”

“Nope!”

“You...”

“Hey, can I kiss you? Is that okay?”

I started to sniffle. I still couldn't believe what was going on.

“I think...I would like that. Very much.”

Maybe it was just selfish of me. Someone like me, wanting something like that. Regardless, she smiled and leaned in. Her lips met mine and she wrapped her arms around the back of my head, stroking my hair while holding on. I matched her and pressed my own lips further. When she let go, I smiled as well.

“There, that wasn't so bad, was it?”

“I'm sorry about everything.”

“Hush. It's okay now.”

We sat next to each other on the pavement, just staring at each other. That was when the silence was broken.

“Well isn't that sweet?” Came a low and icy voice. It sounded familiar, but there was a certain sweetness to it I didn't recognize. Juniper and I stood back up and I turned around to see Rhea sitting down at a park bench wearing a leather jacket with the buttons down and a blue and white striped shirt underneath. Her legs were crossed and she was staring down at her hands, filing her nails.

“Rhea? How long have you been here?” My words came out more like I was making some sort of accusation. Not the tone I intended to carry.

“Oh hey, it's weird stalker lady!”

“What?! You know her?!” I turned to Juniper and balked.

Rhea looked up. “Oh hi, it's good to see you again, Vesuvius. I knew you'd return sooner or later.” She spread her lips, as if attempting a smile. It looked like she was wearing some kind of blue lip gloss. “Hm? I just got here not too long ago.”

“So this is it, huh?”

Instead of going in for an attack, she held out her hands and showed off her fingernails. “Do you like them? I got little snowflakes painted on them.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I think they're pretty!” Juniper chimed in.

“Thank you. You know, I think those pigtails really suit you.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“Uh...what are you doing?” Was she messing with me? I couldn't figure out if there was some kind of trap being set. It could be that she was just trying to confuse me on purpose. Either way, it all seemed too out of character for her.

“Hey Vesuvius, I just adore your silver hair. Have you ever thought of getting it braided?”

“Why are you acting like we're friends?”

She let out a sigh. “Under different circumstances, I could see us all being friends. We could braid each other's hair, get drunk and make fun of strangers, sit and watch movies together.” From out of her pockets, she grabbed two weapons – they looked like miniature guns, but the way they were shaped made me think of miniature crossbows. Each one was pointed at Juniper and I.

“Alas,” her cold voice returned. “That can't happen.”

“What are you doing?!” I demanded.

“Don't worry, I still have my rifle with me. I just thought I'd go for something different since we're so close.”

“That's not what I'm getting at! We're in public! In broad daylight!”

“I see no problem with that. Not like I plan on being around much longer, anyway.”

I turned my head and saw Juniper, frozen in fear. It looked like any moment, she would break and she was just doing her best to keep herself together.

Now do you see that not everything is okay?

“Did The Flashbulb make her a target as well?”

“Those guys? I couldn't care less about them. They're just a paycheck. They think you've been taken care of. No, I'm doing this because I want to.”

“But she's not the threat! I am!”

“Maybe so, but wouldn't it upset you if I shot her as well? Wouldn't it make you livid? Rile you up?”

“Is this all some kind of game to you?”

“Games? Like having a snowball fight? Building a snowman?” She grinned, something so unlike her, and exhaled. I thought I could see her breath. “Then again, it doesn't have to be a snowman.”

“Stop this!” I shouted. “I'm the one you want!”

“You're right,” both guns were now aimed at my chest. “I like her too much to do that, anyway.” Then, she pulled the triggers.

What I expected was to have died. After so long of evading it and fighting against it, I thought it best to just give in. It would have been the best option, really. Juniper would no longer be at risk around me, nor would anyone else in the city, for that matter. Rhea could move on and go elsewhere. I would no longer be sick, and I might have finally been at peace.

But instead, there was nothing.

“That's weird. I was sure I loaded them before I got here,” she took a look at them. Sure enough, I could see electricity surging through them. “You didn't do anything, did you?”

I shook my head.

“I don't know what your deal is,” Juniper spoke up. I turned to her to see her shaking, seething. “But there are children present! You can't just do this sort of thing wherever you please!”

Both Rhea and I blinked.

“That's real cute and all, but I really don't ca--” Rhea tried to say, but Juniper interrupted.

“Both of you! Find some place else!”

For whatever reason, Rhea got up and bolted. I watched her run across the street, narrowly avoiding traffic, and go right inside a high rise building.

“Did she really just leave? Just like that?”

No. I knew it had to be too good to be true. She must have been planning something.

“To be honest, the idea of a shooting in a public park didn't sit well with me either. I think I should leave, too, just in case.”

“Glad you're in agreement!” Juniper beamed, as if she wasn't just threatened at gunpoint. Then, she winced.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, one eye closed. “My shoulder still stings a little, is all.”

“Your shoulder?”

“Oh hun, you don't remember?” She giggled. “You were quite the ferocious beast.”

“Uh...I don't think this is the time to be thinking about such things. I'm gonna go.”

“I'll go with you.”

“No! It's not safe!”

“Too late, already decided!”

We left the park, together, much to my dismay.

She's just under the influence, that's all. If I can shake her off somehow, then I can try to deal with this Rhea thing...

I looked over to her. She shrugged and smiled.

Damn it. She's cute.

As we waited to cross the busy street, I noticed a speck in the air. For whatever reason, I held out my arm in front of her, as if on instinct.

“Get back...”

The bullet struck my arm and exploded on impact. I knew already that the bullet was a special one tailor made for the entity I housed. But then, why did the shooter aim for Juniper?

She let out a gasp. My whole right side burned stung all around. When I looked down, I saw that my right arm was missing, along with a chunk of my torso. Burnt pieces of flesh fell on the ground and I was losing blood fast. For a hit that wasn't aimed at any of my vitals, I would still be done for if I didn't act fast.

“Don't worry, I'll be okay,” I wheezed.

“Bullshit you will!”

I gave her a weak smile. Just once, I tried to match her personality. “I'm not dead, am I?” The aches intensified and I was growing faint. I hunched over and spat out blood. As weak as I was, I managed to look up to see someone on the roof of the skyscraper Rhea entered. I was sure it was her.

Well I'll be. She really did take it somewhere else.

“You should look away.”

“Yeah, I'm not doing that.”

God damn it, why's she so fucking stubborn?

Darkness greeted me once more as it filled each of the spots I was missing. In the place of my arm grew a thin, lanky arm with nails as sharp as talons. The right side of me was granted new, leathery skin, filled with shadow. In my back I could feel the wings start to take shape. It burned, the pain was so intense, but I had to just let it happen.

When I was all finished transforming, I licked my lips.

“Ah, now I can show my true colors,” I crooned. I forgot just how liberating it could be to take such a form, and while I didn't want to get into any fights, doing so to protect her was a little more important.

“HELL YEAH! I TOLD YOU I HAVE A MONSTER GIRL FETISH! THIS IS THE BEST NEWS EVER!”

That snapped me out of my trance. I turned around and whined.

“You're not taking this seriously!”

She looked like she was about to say something when I spied another series of bullets. I held up a veil of shadow in front of her and as soon as the bullets came near, they fell.

“Whew!”

“Find somewhere to hide, I'm going to deal with this.”

She had nothing to say that time and just went off. Relieved, I propelled myself upward and flew to confront Rhea once again.

I landed on the roof, no Rhea in sight. There were electrical generators scattered about, places where she could be hidden. While I looked around for her, I felt something slam into me and I fell to the ground.

“Don't you know it's rude to keep a lady waiting?” She appeared and I noticed her rifle lying on the floor. As I tried to get up, she flung her thermos at me and knocked me back down.

I already just transformed and I still felt at a disadvantage. Once more, I did all I could to bring myself up. She kicked me down and I landed once again with a thud. My face was bruised by the impact. Already she was proving to be greater of a match than even my powers would allow me to deal with.

Before I could attempt to pick myself back up for a third time, she planted her boot on my chest and dug her heel in.

“Now, there's no more room for negotiation.” She tried to dig her heel further, but I reached for it and dug my nails in. She let out a yelp and I pulled her ankle, bringing her down this time.

Unlike me, she picked herself up right away and grabbed her rifle.

“Do you really think you can get a good shot at close range?” I threatened.

She just laughed. “No,” then tried to hit me with it. Before the blow could land, I grabbed hold of it and broke it.

“You lost your weapon, Rhea,” I sighed. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Don't tell me you're facing a moral dilemma now. You've killed before!”

“I know, but I'm just tired.”

“Aw, where's your passion? I want to see you in the heat of battle. Maybe I ought to remind you that you're not my only target.”

“I thought you said you liked her too much to do that!”

“Yes. What a shame. For I have to. She's already been infected. If the two of you are gone, there won't have to be any more casualties.”

“This isn't fair!”

“There we go,” she smirked. “You want to stop this? Do something about it. Because this won't stop until one of us has killed the other.”

I ran at her, my nails sharpened. I looked to slash at her, but she blocked it with gloves taken from out of her pocket with knives attached to the edges, serving as claws of her own.

“Sure, these little gloves aren't as impressive as yours, but they'll do the job.” She swiped, and my nails tore right off. I tried to jump out of the way, but she still came at me.

My nails regrew, and I protected myself. Now our faces were mere inches from each other.

“Do you notice my foundation. I put some on a little while ago. I was hoping you'd like it.”

I growled and pushed back. “What is your deal?”

“It seems you've rubbed off on me, is all.”

She pushed forward and let go with one hand, then dug the blades of the open hand into the side of my neck. I cried out, blood dripped down.

“Ah, if only I chopped it clean off, I would be done by now.”

I held onto my neck, trying to stop the bleeding.

“C'mon, I want to see your fiery side. You're happiest when you have something to be angry about, aren't you?”

Light was fading for me. Once again I felt faint as I did all that I could to stay standing. Whatever she was doing to try to rile me up, I couldn't even manage to do that. She had got me at every turn; I was doomed the moment I came up here.

“This is just like you. You have every chance to act and change your situation, and instead you're so willing to give up.”

Her words had no effect on me. All I could do at that point was struggle to keep myself alive and the next thing I knew, she was once again right next to me. This time, she held me up by the neck, lifting me up.

“You have the opportunity to let out all your aggression, feel alive. Or should I say 'had'? I've given you too many chances. You've been nothing but a disappointment to me. To everyone in your life. It's time to put this to rest.”

Her free arm was pulled back as she pointed her claws at my chest.

“I JUST WANT THIS TO END!” I screamed. With the strength that I had, I reached up and tore through the hand that restrained me, blood dripping down my nails, onto my hand. She let go and squealed, but drew a few breaths, and smiled.

“There we go.”

We clashed, each of us one handed, swiping back and forth at each other. Scratches on my cheek, some torn through her clothes, on her stomach. We continued bloodying each other up, and if I wasn't mistaken, we both seemed to be relishing in it. The pain that each of us inflicted on each other, clinging for life.

“Ah, these wounds...they feel...so good,” she spoke with labored breaths, still attacking. Tendrils shot out of my back, but she jumped back and reacted with that same barrier device as our first encounter. Then she tossed it aside and leaped at me, tearing through the tendrils. I screamed, and in retaliation, reached for her stomach and dug my claws deeper, then slashed through. She fell.

Lying on the concrete floor of the roof, she huffed and put her palm over her stomach.

“Heh...you...win.”

“I didn't want to...”

She smiled and winced. “It's funny...I've always heard in movies how people feel cold when they're dying. But this...feels warm.”

“Rhea...”

“What's the matter, princess? You look sad.”

“I never got to know you. Anything about you.”

She tried to laugh, but couldn't manage. “Are you wanting a follow-up session, doc? You still want me to tell you a little about myself?”

“Just tell me.”

“Why? Would it make you happier if I did?”

“Please!”

Her voice got lower, it was clear there wasn't much time left for her. “You better hurry up...this is more...last words...than the human body...ought to give.”

“Yes! It would make me happy if you told me! I'll keep you alive just a little longer if I have to!”

“I'm single and ready to mingle.” She coughed.

I wiped my face. I didn't even know why I was asking such a selfish request.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fine. There’s really nothing interesting about me, though.”

“I don’t care, I want to hear it,” I continued to beg. Then, she spoke again.

“I was just someone like you. Just someone looking for her home. Or a means of keeping warm.”

“I wish I could have helped you...”

“You want to do me a favor? Strike a match.”

I conjured up a match and struck it. Flame rested at the top.

“Now give it to me.”

I knelt down and handed it to her. She took it, putting the bottom half of it between her lips.

“Rhea...”

Her eyes closed. I heard her utter a faint few words:

“Now there's a name I haven't heard in years.”

After that, her head turned and I could tell that, even as the flame flickered on, her life was no more.

That it had to come to such a thing, I couldn't stand it. I couldn't live with myself. We were at each other's throats, but she should have had a chance at happiness. I knew what I could do. I could bring her back to life.

I held out my arm, about to bring her back, but I was stopped by the arm of another who held my wrist and set my arm down.

“I don't think she would like that very much,” Juniper muttered.

When did you get here?

“I wish I could have understood her better,” I felt the words come out without any emotion tied to them.

“I think this is what she wanted.”

I turned to my wife. She was pacing around the roof, moving in some sing-song manner.

“How can you be so sure?”

She shrugged. “Oh, I don't know.”

I sat down. “This whole organization, The Flashbulb...they have a tendency to pick some messed up people. Rhea’s partner, Rhea herself, even me, to an extent.”

“That's okay, though, don't you think?”

I shook my head and sighed. “Do you think the only reason you like me right now is because you've been infected by me?”

“Hm...I don't know, but I'm pretty sure I loved you before, so I don't think anything's really changed.”

Whatever the case truly was, I found myself coming to a new conclusion.

“This still doesn't feel right to me. Everything. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I think I need to go.”

She stood right next to me and leaned down.

“Oh yeah? If you must, then I understand.”

“I don't know what the right decision is. Maybe I'll be back. Maybe I shouldn't. But I just think I need to keep searching, for now.”

“Hey,” she poked me. “I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

I got up and found that all my wounds had vanished. My hair, too, was once again silver.

“I don't know where I go. Perchance, I might even fade from existence.”

“If that ends up being the case, just make sure you're happy when you do!”

“I...”

“Hm?”

I looked up to the sky.

“I think you should forget me. I think it would be better that way.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No, but --”

“Then it won't happen, silly!”

“Why not? I want you to!” I balked.

“Too late! I already decided I don’t want to!”

“Does...it even work that way?”

She shrugged, then without warning, grabbed my hands and leaned in for a quick kiss. When we broke free, I tried to think of some parting words.

“I'm sure...in some universe or timeline, that we're together, and we're both happy.”

She nodded. “I'll think about that.”

Once again, I departed, in search of a new universe to reside in.

#happiness overload #writing #stories #happy endings #romance #action #horror #scifi #volcanoes #trees #frozen #there was originally going to be a star wars reference but then I decided nah #anyway #alls well that ends well #not that the story as a whole is over #just for this little arc #drama

[wine-porn]

I’ve always been a fan of Aglianico. Although in America, pickings can be slim, and–as it is considered a variety of great aging potential–often moderately old. Not that there’s anything wrong with old wines, not at all. But feeling these wines in their bright freshness–at their source–and seeing all the measures taken to PRESERVE that youthful fruit is something quite overlooked when only exposed to wines developing tertiary. There were several side benefits to experiencing the Aglianico at Tenuta Del Meriggio. First of all, it exposed me to Taurasi, the very special DOCG dedicated to Aglianico, but nearly overshadowing these powerful reds are the ridiculous whites produced alongside: Greco (Tufo DOCG) and Fiano (Avellino DOCG). It should also be mentioned a couple ancient, indigenous grapes are also produced: Coda di Volpe as a DOC and Falanghina, which Americans are probably far more familiar with in relation to wines from Campania–at least when I mentioned I was traveling there, Falanghina was the first word out of my wine-friends’ mouths.

While we’re on the subject of *Compania knowledge* I should mention what EYE knew about it going in. 99% of my exposure in several decades of drinking wine in the U.S. had been under the Feudi Di San Gregorio label. This is a brand fairly common in the US and pretty much represented the extent of my experience save for a few outliers over the years. As part of my research WHILE in Campania, I picked up this same label off a local shelf just to see how it compared to the stuff I was being exposed to at a boutique winery. The results were shocking. It is–quite literally–supermarket plonk, nowhere NEAR exuding the sort or lavish fruit and mineral experienced at Meriggio. And to think I have a fair amount of this in my cellar!

The other thing I always do before such trips to relatively unknown regions is to snoop around what others say. I went through my library of Usual Suspects on all things encyclopedic to wine and came away with not much more than I already knew. While most entries were promising of decent quality and variable nuance, most indicated the best-known brand to stick to as Mastroberardino, whose ‘Radici’ bottling I ALSO experimented with while in Naples and it, too, displayed the kind of dull, safe normal-ness and un-inspiring fruit the Feudi did. An interesting aside here is this is almost IDENTICAL to the VERY BRIEF wiki-page on Taurasi, which indicates in its scant dozen-sentences the appellation was relatively unknown until early this century, where it has exploded to over 200 labels BUT–as if tearing a page directly from Karen McNeil’s book–lists solely the afore-mentioned Mastro as the only “wine-of-interest”.

Well then. I’m here to change your mind about that.

Loyal readers will know I am not one to allow *the story* to over-shadow the stuff under the cork, but one of the beauties of spending an entire week on a winery is the ability to really get to know the proprietors, their ideals, and their goals. Keep in mind this was not a week on a region, or on a variety, not even within a consorzio of producers, but an entire week on a single winery. Oh, but there are way MORE benefits. Completely immersing oneself in the dining and sources of dining in a very tight area sheds light on the symbiotic relationship between the wine and local cuisine. And in gastronomic cultures this old, the association is obvious. Not to be ignored are the local sights and sounds, and spending an entire week nearly one-on-one with the proprietors of a local business which depends on regional intricacies allows ample time to *stop and smell the roses* as it were, with plentiful side-trips to sights both adapted-to naturally and created as part of societal history. From the rocky switchbacks overlooking the colorful Amalfi coast to narrow hillside villages in the shadow of Vesuvius–castles and churches and palaces and museums in between–all proudly reflecting their stitches in the fabric of a region, and all benefiting from the bounty–and climate–of the Mediterranean. Because we’re here to talk about food & wine, remember?

Tenuta Del Meriggio is a winery born from a life-long interest in wine by a family dedicated to–and still fully immersed in–the on-the-street healthcare industry. Both Bruno and Nunzio Pizza dreamed of making wine themselves one day and this rocky little hillside above Avellino is the fruition of their physical–and financial–dedication to this goal. No expense has been spared in this state-of-the-art winery, and it shares many complements with its dug-deep hillside location. The sticky volcanic clay holds moisture indefinitely, translating to wet natural cellar walls producing near-100% humidity and shiver-inducing year-round temperatures, but also hampering off-season cultivation of the stony slopes and contributing constantly to vine-concern–especially in springtime. Unlike some wine-production facilities I have been inside of in Italy, this place is near-sterile in cleanliness, the equipment computer-controlled and several of the pieces geeky enough to have a function outside the grasp of someone fairly familiar with winery-processes.

I won’t go into a whole lot of detail about the winery. It’s brand new; It’s beautiful; The inside of almost all wineries is identical–the age and layout and whether the floor-drains work the only variables. Two or three things did pique my interest enough to bear mentioning though. They have a water-reclamation system installed downhill of the crush-pad. If you’ve ever worked in a winery, you KNOW the incredible amount of water used–not consumed, used–in keeping everything flowing. This water all has to go somewhere and it doesn’t really have anything WRONG with it. So a series of ponds and sumps and a selection of plants and gravels produce not only water which can be used as irrigation on the rare occasion, but re-used in the winery for cleaning. Another wish-list item I will mention is their own cold-room. Probably 2000-2500 sqft–not to mention the 20′ high ceilings–it is capable of (at least) 0° Celsius and is used in both pre-production fruit and post-production bottle stability. Lastly, I loved the Austrian-oak (not variable top) upright fermenters where the Aglianico spends upwards of 45 days in primary. They are big though–I mean what the hell even IS 100hl??? But they are very pretty and I kinda want one.

Are the wines organic or the property biodynamic? No. But here’s the thing you have to realize about European wineries: EVERYTHING is automatically far more “organic” than American agriculture–even without the badge–and EVERYONE is striving to both grow grapes and produce wines with as little chemical sleight-of-hand as possible. Americans have this weird black-and-white on-off switch when it comes to “organic”, and I’ve seen their faces when they ask and get the simple answer, “No.” If you stick around long enough for the FULL answer–and a complete understanding of wine-making approach in Europe–apparent is the fact the vineyard manager and winemaker are doing their best to minimize applications and additives, but a healthy vineyard is more important than an organic one and a healthy fermentation is more important than a natural one. This is the same argument I proffer constantly to the ‘Natural Wine’ crowd: There are no Natural Wines, only NATURALER wines. Being certified organic cuts hard into a wineries ability to compete in Italy, and honestly, the natives are just not as concerned about that word *officially* appearing on a label. Make sure your wines are being thoughtfully made, and vague titles won’t matter.

The winery itself sits up at about 1500 feet elevation on a fairly steep south-facing slope with various exposures of varying degrees for various small blocks of fruit. The exact town is Montemiletto, near the town of and in the province of Avellino, in the district of Irpinia–which is also the appellation? in the region of Campania. Sorry, the Irpinia part I never was quite able to get a handle on in terms of specific geographical boundaries, although it IS the appellation. Got that all straight? The Taurasi and Tufo DOCG’s are nearby at slightly lower elevations. The pecking order at this winery (and similar to others I have witnessed) is an “agronomist” (basically: vineyard manager)–and at Meriggio, Mr. Bruno Pizza is also an agronomist–who works year-round almost equally with the “oenologist” (they don’t really ever say ‘winemaker’), who here, is a rather famous Carmine Valentino and CLEARLY performing the duties which stateside would be called ‘Consulting Winemaker’ (the consulting part doesn’t translate, believe me I tried). Then there is the full-time on-site winemaker they also call an oenologist or sometimes ‘Technician’ who clearly is performing in the function we would call Assistant Winemaker. After that, it’s just a bunch of pruners, pickers and hose-draggers, the daily minutia of management I got to witness first-hand and let me tell you it differs NOT ONE SPECK from here in California. Tenuta Del Meriggio also has at the helm a Communicazione Commerciale or something something–a marketing director–by the name of Paolo Sibillo, a very focused but gregarious former boxer who speaks perfect English and naturally has his finger on everything from production and pricing to packaging and distribution. It’s quite a team, but we all know Nunzia runs the whole thing.

But how are the wines? I know you’re here for the wines. Let’s talk about the whites first. How beautiful these things were. Perfect with all the seafood we ate all over town at numerous restaurants. Everywhere, the Greco and Fiano came out. The latter far richer and rounder than the former, and naturally a favorite with the Chardonnay-drinkers in the crowd. The Greco is angular and lean, more akin to Riesling to me and was my favorite whenever the two were presented. A couple of notes about my notes which later proved themselves factually: First, I kept noting KMBS in the Greco. Turns out ‘Tufo” is the rock they quarry in the region to make the cobblestones and it has a very high sulfur content. There’s one. Secondly, I insisted the Greco was tannic. Turns out it has a very thin, delicate skin which actually GOES THROUGH the press mesh, creating a bit of skin-contact in the fermenters and with it, tannin. Lastly, I kept getting oak in the Fiano, even though it sees no oak (the reserve does). You would SWEAR there’s oak in it. In reality, this is a by-product of them freezing the grapes for 48 hrs before pressing. (remember that cold-room?) It creates a nutty, oaky, full mouthfeel while preserving the fruit. So I’m not crazy, after all.

18 irpinia coda di volpe DOC  Big citrus and austerity but it kind of turned into a bit of sweetness, candy pie or something. Kinda dusty floral really really dusty… It’s a great standalone grape they only make a little bit of it most of it goes in the blend but it’s really sharp, acidic and has an interesting floral but yet teary softness to it that belies its intensity. 18 fiano di avellino (day 2) Creamy round vanilla nutty oak. Old worldy and full of applesauce, melon and kiwi. Green cleanness reverberates throughout the cellar funk. 18 fiano di avellino (day 3) I’m getting so much richness here, more than I got last night. It’s all cream soda in the nose nice Twinkie icing but not cream cheese frosting, no citrus, all chubby roundness. … Big round old world funk in the mouth, gritty soggy soil but a granular brightness. 17 fiano di avellino Nice and clean, none of the barnyard funk I get off the 18. Nice apple and peach little bit of spice, little cardamon… In the mouth full and rich again. I could sell endcaps of this to Chard drinker and convert them. It has all the full mouth feel that Chardonnay drinker, chablis drinker and sancerre drinker needs but also the acidity and the minerality doesn’t take a break. Mouthfeel goes on and on.

18 greco di tufo (day 2) Interesting funky nose, nice reduction and stewed fruit, good earthiness and body in nose, good mineral edgy sharp in nose: cream soda and sprite notes with KMBS? … In the mouth, full and rich, 13.5 guess: 14. Full and round, almost a seedy strawberry Sierra-berry goodness. Citrus rind edge sharp and cutting. Mid palate a lil thin then comes crashing back to almost tannic bitterness. A brilliant white wine. Absolutely world-class stuff. I love this wine. 18 greco di tufo (day 3) I thought I got a touch of potassium metabisulfite off the front this morning and it’s still here. I’m getting a lot more baking spice off of this one really interesting cinnamon and nutmeg and a pastry pastry cheese note… Ridiculous mouthfeel but not a California sort of atmosphere, a raspy and honest bitter and there’s no way to argue there is not tannin in this wine. This is a winter-time wine–it won’t keep you warm but it will keep you alive. 14 greco di tufo Bad vintage? A lot creamier nose… full mouthfeel, good pomplamousse and more applesauce, all your dreams are alive here, boys & girls, ridiculous acidity, crazy mineral. Solid mouthfeel for decades. This is not made as well as the 18 and I would love to taste the 18 at this age.

18 fiano di avellino selectione A little oak on this one but really not noticeable in the nose. I was expecting something more. Solid but it actually has come and gone the other direction from the non selection it’s really really light… Rich and full in the mouth but it doesn’t let you get too far down the road before all that mineral kicks in… all the Chardonnay drinkers in the room def prefer the non-selection. Bottled 2 months ago and the feel like it’s a little awkward at this moment. Still it’s brilliant brilliant stuff. 18 greco di tufo selectione This is clean and mellow in the nose I feel like some of the lovely stuff I like about the stainless steel has been eroded. I’m getting more potassium metabisulfite I feel like it might be really recently bottled? Tomato stem and water down honey in the mouth. Very mellow and smoothed out but you’ve got tannin still there. I’m sorry I’m just not the biggest fan of these selections which is pretty much par for the course with me. The regular bottlings have more fruit. To their credit although they are both very freshly bottled and and perhaps will settle down a little bit in 6-months.

15 irpania aglianico DOC Nice dense formidable Ruby with a barely faded edge staining with good legs… Beautiful & nails all the way through. Smooth down into a nice cherry reduction pomegranate where the chocolate tobacco is just pouring out of it even though it’s only 5. Nice green-briar but it’s a polished sort of briar. Acid is going to be there it’s just a breath in the background underneath all that cinnamon. In the mouth you can definitely taste the age. It has a crazy fruit to it but also a little bit of imbalance because the the tannins and the acidity are so huge, there’s a wall of dark fruit that lingers slightly behind it and is it saving grace. This needs about 4 hours in a decanter then you possibly could approach it. So much going on in the nose and in the finish that I feel sorry for the entry and middle. There is a really nice herb or herbaceous sort of rosemary oil thing going on in the finish that I could really get addicted to. A stupidly delicious wine. 14 taurasi aglianico DOCG Plain and elegant in the nose. Subdued at first. Dull briar fruit so huge, massive cherry luxardo finally blows up. So elegant in the mouth, mouth-wrackingly dry and acidic, I could literally drink this wine all day long I’m not going to fall into the crutch of comparing it to another region it’s just not fair. This is stupidly good, perfect barrel, good fruit. I will be a little bit concerned that maybe the fruit will not out live with the tannin but there’s gobs of it back there so it’s not really my place to say. 12 taurasi aglianico DOCG Showing a bit more garnet in the glass. Just a hint of brick at the edge. A little bit oxidized in the nose to be honest, creamy buttery big bread popcorn sort of nuances borderline on banana but not quite going there. Through all this nutty and reduced fruit shine calamata and Herbs de Provence notes. Ridiculous fruit, honestly more fruit than the 14 which would bode well for my question as to whether the fruit can outlive the tannin. 10 taurasi Aglianico DOCG Really starting to smooth there. Still all there but really starting to smooth out and the reduction on fruit is just absolutely gorgeous. Lithe and bitter and green, fruit a glorious bystander in the tertiary theme.

I know I was supposed to rant and rave about the Taurasi’s–and I did, to a point–but that little 2015 “regular” Irpinia DOC Aglianico was my wine of the day several times. I kept coming back to it as a benchmark for what the variety could do. I know it has zero barrique aging and was actually released LONG before it had this much bottle-age, but it is straight-up gorgeous. Funny thing is: later on in the week we attended a big formal dinner with local celebrities and notables. They served one red. I couldn’t believe it: My WINE OF THE WEEK: the 2015 Irpinia Aglianico. Good things come to those who wait.

And what the world needs now is more Greco and Aglianiaco.

These wines are available thru Siena Imports on the West Coast.

tenutadelmeriggio.it 

Getting to know Avellino I've always been a fan of Aglianico. Although in America, pickings can be slim, and--as it is considered a variety of great aging potential--often moderately old.

#Aglianico #Aglianico DOC #Avellino #Bruno Pizza #Campania #Carmine Valentino #Falanghina DOC #Fiano #Fiano di avellino #Greco #Greco de Tufo #Greco di Tufo #Irpania Aglianico #Irpinia #Italian wine #Nunzia Guerriero #Paolo Sibillo #SAverio Pizza #Taurasi Aglianico DOCG #Tenuta del Meriggio #Volpe

[samaroundtheworld]

Sorrento, The Land of the Sirens

Lovely. That is the first word that comes to mind when I think of Sorrento. Why you may ask? Because it is in Southern Italy, because people are nicer, because the seafood is cheaper, because there is a beach right next to our dorms, because the lemons here are huge, because there is tourism but not as bad as in Florence, because of Corso Italia, because of the view from my dorm, because I can get to see an active volcano, Mount Vesuvius, everyday, and because it is different than any city I have ever lived at before. Although Bari has a beach, Bari was way bigger and I lived in the suburbs. I did not get to go to the beach since it was November when I was in Bari, and even though Bari will forever have my heart, Sorrento is different. Sorrento is not Rome or Florence. Sorrento is the Land of the Sirens, since “it is said that here on the furthest point of the Sorrentine Peninsula these enchanting creatures once sang sailors to their doom.” No other city I have been to has had sirens! (lol)

Although I have not explored much, I can already tell that people here actually appreciate tourism a little more than in Florence AND they respect you when you say “no” most of the time. I love how here, as well as Rome, if you start speaking to Sorrentines in Italian, and even though you might have an accent, they will continue to speak to you in Italian. And speaking about Italian language, something I noticed here that is different from the way that I learned Italian and the way that Italian was spoken in the North, is that they use “voi” to speak formally to someone instead of “Lei” which is totally mind blowing to me because I remember learning something about that in out Italian language and Culture class; it was something about Mussolini not wanting to use “Lei” because it was too feminine so they moved to “Voi” instead, but I am not completely sure. I still have to get used to this because I still talk to my elders here with the “Lei” form. I do not remember being told anything in Bari about it, so I do not know if it is a Southern thing in general.  It is kinda sad that we are only here for a week, but I honestly cannot imagine being here for 3 weeks or even 4 because we live so far from the city center, unlike Florence. I do wish we had a little more time to be here though, to explore more on our own. I wanted to go to Capri and Positano but I do not have any money left, unless it is for food. I feel like Italy is like “Hey! Look, I have this city for you and this one as well, please come back!” and it is working because I want to go back to each city that we have been to. Sorrento is just a whole other world compared to Rome and Florence. It is amazing that we get to experience the Northern-Central part of Italy and the Southern part of Italy and compare both. Can’t wait to see what other differences I notice. :D