Hi everyone.
To Kill a Predator is a work of fan fiction set in the Nature of Predators universe originally created by SpacePaladin15 whose Patreon you should subscribe to.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Depiction does not equal endorsement.
Hope you enjoy it!
[First] [Previous]
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Memory transcription subject: Martin Russo, Human Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: January 10th, 2137
​
Without the girls, life settles into a boring rut. I talk to them as much as I can on the pad, but they’re busy on Earth, hitting the ground running.
There’s been a lot of ground to cover before they’re caught up to where everyone else will be, particularly for Vilek. She’s often had to pull double-claws of studying, working her fluffy ass off to gain a baseline understanding of psychology in record time. Thiva’s classes on VP by contrast have prepared her well for humanity’s relatively simple technology.
That, and they’ve had to get used to Earth. Earth food, Earth culture, and a planet full of omnivores with forward-facing eyes. I’ve been doing what little I can to help coach and encourage them.
For my own part I’ve been restless. Given that I’m not able to look for a job yet, that physical therapy kicks my ass every other paw, and that I’ve got nothing to do other than look forward to a half-hour of chatting with my friends… I’ve started up on software again. It’s something I can do even while laying prone. Particularly since I have a way to write without using my hands.
What do I do with that, anyway? I can read minds. I can even use the raw data from a full brain scan to extract memories. There’s got to be something useful to do with this. It’s practically the only part of this entire debacle I haven’t bothered telling the UN about.
Honestly after what I’ve been through, I can’t imagine trusting them, or the Venlil government, with this. Bastards would be prosecuting thought-crime by the end of the week.
​
Jarkim’s opened his business a couple of weeks back. Without an actual office, since he plans to simply operate out of Slavik’s farm. As I understand they tolerate it as long as he also helps out in return for food and board. I hope the arrangement works out for the both of them.
I gave Jarkim some help with his online presence. He wasn’t initially sure about the black and white picture of him in a fedora and a tie, or about the business name “Jarkim Krakotl, Private Eye”. But as soon as humans heard about Venlil Prime’s only Krakotl detective they’ve ended up coming to him with their problems.
He sent me a picture of his first solved case, some runaway kid who got lost and reunited with her mother. He was still wearing the hat. No tie, though.
​
Today is my paw off from Chasa’s torments, and it coincides with the launch of another exciting new business venture. So I take the time to visit Mosun.
“Hey Martin! Hold on a minute!” I see the Yotul wrangling a bunch of foam mats around the large, empty room. And its wall-length mirror. Fittingly the place look like the midway point between a dance studio and a martial arts dojo, except for the soft and spongy floor. It’s meant to safeguard against falls.
I glance around the room while he huffs and plops the last few ones down. There’s perhaps thirty-five or forty foam mats scattered on the floor. “So are you being optimistic, or did you get a good reception?”
He looks at me, bouncing with excitement. Though his ears signal a bit of nervousness. “Five Yotul have signed up so far! That’s almost half the Yotul in the entire town! And almost twenty humans! Hanya’s bringing a couple of Gojid friends too, and we’ve got a few Venlil coming along with their humans… Oh, and an Iftali, that was a surprise. Honestly I may be a little in over my head here; I’ve never taught crowds before! I’m not even sure how much will translate across species!”
“So you’ll be learning on the job. I have complete faith in you. Are the Exterminators going to give you any trouble?”
He barks a laugh. “Hah! No, Jarkim had a talk with the magister. I got permission from Vaska’s office to teach the classes in the name of cultural preservation, so those motherfuckers can’t touch me!”
I laugh as well. “You might need to censor your language a bit as a teacher.”
“Combat Dancing is about honesty and expression, Martin. If I can’t live it, how am I supposed to teach it?”
Well, he got me there. “Anything I can do to help?”
He glances at me, his voice gets a little uncomfortable. “Um, I don’t know. Can you carry heavy stuff right now?”
I shrug. “Probably not, no.”
“Then I’ll be fine. You’re not interested in taking the class?”
​
“I think my dancing days are over, for the foreseeable future.” I wryly lift my cane and wave it as a small reminder. It’s wood, and I’m quite fond of it. Chasa found a Venlil craftsman who wanted to be the first to make one for a human, and he made it out of the wood of some kind of tree called Lampan. The color reminds me of mahogany.
His ears droop a bit. “Ah yeah. How permanent is that looking?”
I shrug. “Finger dexterity on the right hand’s likely never going to be the same, but I’ll be able to play video games. Left arm should recover enough for daily use. Leg should get a full range of motion, but I won’t be going jogging. Thankfully I look dignified with a cane.”
He wags his tail teasingly and cocks his head as he regards me. “Do you? …Must be a human thing.”
“Piss off. Mind if I sit in on the class?”
“Of course not!”
Turns out first class of Yotul Combat Dancing is a quick demonstration, and then Mosun talking to the quite large and varied crowd. He talks about the history and cultural significance of Combat Dances to the Yotul, the philosophical underpinnings of the artform, and the mentality to be cultivated in practitioners.
Everyone is listening with rapt attention, and a few of the humans are even taking notes. When he opens the floor for questions, a Venlil asks “Isn’t this an expression of Predator Disease?”
To which Mosun answers “No. Next question?”
Which is honestly as much of a response as that warrants.
I talk with Hanya briefly after the class. She says that she’s been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and that human therapy is helping her out. She even talks excitedly about piloting shuttles again, someday soon. I’m glad for her.
​
Once I get back to the house, there’s a man in a suit waiting for me. He’s tall, bald, and has very dark skin. I don’t recognize him. He extends his hand toward me, and I shake it. He speaks English with an African accent, instead of letting the translator handle it. I’d guess western Africa, but I’m hardly an expert. “Bamidele Adeyemi.”
“Martin Russo. Can I help you?”
He indicates the door. “May I come in?”
“Sure. My Venlil hosts aren’t home right now.”
“Of course.”
Once he’s been let in, and I’ve given him something to drink, I wait patiently for him to explain his presence.
“I am the UN liason to the district magister’s office.”
I keep my tone neutral and politely curious. “What happened to Robert McGinley?”
He keeps his tone neutral too, but friendly. He smiles at me. “It was decided that he should be replaced.”
Oh no. Anyway. “Alright. But… No offense mister Adeyemi, but why are you here?”
​
He takes out a pad. “I have some documents that the UN and the District Magister would like you to sign.”
I sigh inwardly and make a quite heroic effort to not sigh outwardly. I look at the pad briefly anyway. As I expected, it’s about making myself legally liable should I speak up about what I’ve gone through. “I’m afraid you are wasting your time. McGinley told me to sign papers like this too, and I told him ‘no’.”
He nods, entirely unsurprised. “I understand you signed similar documents over a smaller… altercation with the Exterminators. Why the difference of response, if I may ask?”
“Because the first time he threatened to have me thrown out of the refugee center if I didn’t.”
Bamidele’s eyes widen briefly. “I see. That does explain why you told him to ‘fuck off’.”
“Yes.” I pause briefly. “…You’ve been polite enough that I don’t want to use the same language. But.”
He laughs briefly. “Haha, yes, I understand. Different circumstances, yes? My predecessor tried the stick. I am here to try the carrot. So tell me, mister Russo, what will it take for you to sign?”
“There’s nothing that…” I pause.
I sit down. I’m briefly quiet. I miss my friends so goddamn much. I swallow, mouth feeling dry as I tentatively reach for the proffered lifeline. “I… hear Sweden’s lovely this time of year.”
He flashes his teeth at me in a broad smile and chuckles pleasantly. “Hehe, I thought you might say that. But… You do realize it is January?”
​
​
Date [standardized human time]: January 12th, 2137
​
The thought of leaving this wretched planet and its wretched food and its wretched government and its wretched ever-present sun makes me feel like I’m already back in Earth’s lighter gravity.
I ended up paying Chasa back for all the pain and suffering she inflicted on me: The largest gift basket I could find online, filled with fruits, candies, and preserves of both Zurulian and human origin.
When I wake up at the start of the paw, my arch-nemesis has sent me two pictures. The first one is a schedule to keep for the next couple of months. In the second picture she’s put pillows and blankets in the basket and is using it as a bed, a paw raised in goodbye.
If the medi-teddies ever learn to weaponize their cuteness, humanity is in real trouble.
Packing is easy. I don’t have a lot. A band shirt from when I went to see ‘Where Angels Fear’, a few bad sketches of fruit, my dad's chess set, my pad, and a neural scanner.
​
Date [standardized human time]: January 13th, 2137
​
The space flight actually lands directly in Sweden, somewhere north of the polar circle at a place called Esrange. I immediately realize that winter’s back on the menu, as the cold makes my left leg and arm ache like hell. It’s the dead of night, too… But I’ve missed night. So has everyone else, as despite the cold people are walking straight out into the snow to just stare up into the starry sky and stare in open awe at the sky, where the stars form a backdrop for the northern lights. I join them.
A poetic whimsy falls over me, making me grin at the cheesiness. It’s like the sky itself is welcoming us back home.
From Esrange we take cars to Kiruna, Sweden’s northernmost city. From there it’s a long train ride south. I’ve gotten a sleeper cabin. With the generous stipend from the UN, I have no need to scrimp.
Even so, it takes significantly longer to travel 1400 kilometers across Sweden than it did to travel 16 light-years from Gliese 832. I’ve got almost twenty hours to appreciate the irony.
​
Date [standardized human time]: January 14th, 2137
​
I’m met at the train station in Lund by a man holding a sign with my name on it. His car takes me directly to the university. Everything feels very… ordinary, except I’m a bit dazed at having so many humans around me again.
We arrive a little before 8 in the morning. Excited students scurry to and fro, eager and hopeful for the first day of spring term. The driver is named Markus, and very kindly helps me find my way to my meeting. I’m left outside a door, standing around awkwardly.
The man I’m meeting with is Jonas Falck, and he’s the head of the department of computer science. While the UN has ‘encouraged’ the university to take me in despite it being so close to the term start, the decision remains with him.
I really wanted to see the girls first, but the meeting time was set for me. I desperately wish I had thought to shave beforehand. I’ve been using my beard to hide my weak chin, but it probably looks more unprofessional than-
“Hey, are you Martin Russo?”
Ah, I see.
Mister Falck is holding two cups of coffee and offers one of them to me with a smile. He’s got a full beard, a full belly, hair past his shoulders, and a pink hawaiian shirt to go with his khaki shorts and flip-flops. This man is clearly one of the most talented professionals working in the field today.
​
“So, do you mind if I ask…” He motions to my cane while I take a seat.
“How that happened?”
“Yes.”
“That’s classified. I’m not even joking.”
He nods once, like that was more or less what he expected to hear. He leans back in his chair, which creaks a bit, and takes a slow drink from his coffee while reading on his computer. “So you studied at Columbia University before the Bombing?”
“Yes.”
“And your family lived in New York?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He doesn’t say it unkindly, but he does say it as rote. ‘Oh you’re from one of the places that doesn’t exist anymore? Sorry to hear that.’
I nod awkwardly. “Yes.”
“And you were focusing on studying brain-computer interfacing?”
I feel like a recording. “Yes.”
“It’s very uncommon to add a student this late. The term begins today.”
“Yes.”
“We can’t provide housing for you on such a short notice, for one.”
“I have that handled, sir.”
He scrunches his face up. “Jonas, please. Americans are so formal.”
“Alright, er, Jonas.”
“So, Martin, what I’m asking for is a reason. To take you in right now, I mean, instead of next year.”
I nod. This is thankfully something I had planned for. My hand slips into my pocket, fingering the box holding the scanner electrodes. “Well, Jonas… I think there’s something you should take a look at.”
​
Handling paperwork and basic orientation takes most of the morning. I manage to get morning-and-evening classes to share my time off with the lambchops. That only works because most people don’t want evening classes. Evenings are for partying if you’re a student, so late classes are mostly for adults with jobs.
I end up standing around nervously by the entrance to the university building, counting down the time. I watch people passing by as calmly as I can, still checking my pad every minute or so for any messages and jerking my head around like a bird at anything that’s even a bit of a shade of gray.
I can tell the alien girls are coming even before I see them, since everyone is glancing curiously their way. I straighten my back and shift my weight from foot to foot. I feel like a dog at an airport, waiting for the return of its owner.
They’re looking around as I see them, and Thiva’s the first to spot me. Her ears perk up and Vilek immediately looks to me as well. As they speed up into a sprint, I’m a bit surprised to see them both wearing clothes. Both girls are wearing custom boots made to fit their digitigrade legs.
They’re both wearing coveralls, Vilek’s in a hospital teal and Thiva’s in a bright red. It’s been explained to me that many at the university have a student culture of wearing colorful coveralls that they decorate with patches, called ‘Ovve’, and that Thiva’s red marks her as a mechanical engineering student. Vileks’s teal, presumably, mark her as studying healthcare. Or specifically therapy, perhaps. I need to look it up.
Seeing as computer science students are apparently expected to wear pink ones, I’m thinking I might sit out this grand and colorful tradition. On the other hand according to the Internet it’s an informal rule to cut a bit from the ‘Ovve’ of anyone you’ve exchanged body fluids with and patch it onto your own. So I suppose I could be convinced.
The girls collide with me, thankfully gently. Their tails are wagging like crazy out of the back of their outfits, and they’re clinging to me. I inhale deeply, take in the distinct and pleasant scent of my cute Venlil friends, and cling to them as well. My fingers stroke through their thick fur, and I hear their happy wordless bleating and whistling.
I close my eyes and enjoy the moment, not giving one whit for the passersby watching the scene.
“Oh, girls, I-” Vilek punches me in the arm unexpectedly. The right one, thankfully.
“Ow!”
Even though her ears signal joy and her tail is wagging, her voice is still stern. “We learned what ‘lambchops’ means!”
Ah.
​
The student flat isn’t very expansive, but it’s larger than the one we shared on Venlil Prime. Probably because humans are just plain larger.
It’s currently sparsely furnished. There’s a couple of desks, a couch, a table, a beanbag chair, and a bunk bed. I take my shoes off in the hallway, as the girls do. When in Lund.
They help me unpack. There’s not a lot, but they had already set aside a little corner for me. I’ve got the beanbag chair instead of a desk, which I’m perfectly fine with.
I sigh and lean against a wall briefly. “I’m… so glad to be home.”
Thiva turns her head a little, flicking an ear in question. “You missed being on Earth?”
I chuckle, and pinch her ear-tip lightly. I lean over to give Vilek one too, for fairness. It earns me a pair of bleeps from them, and I go on the offensive to rub their heads and scratch their ears and do everything I can to make the lambchops squeal happily. They thankfully oblige. “I missed being with my herd.”
My friends are safe, they’re here with me, and we all have paths forward. I’ve fought and bled for this opportunity. I’m allowed to enjoy it.
I sit down on the couch with a quiet groan of satisfaction, finally getting to put my cane aside. “So, girls… how are you feeling about Earth so far?”
They grumble immediately. “It is so freaking cold!” “Snow! We do not like the snow!”
“It’s only for another couple of… Months.” They’re undressing right in front of me. I am left briefly stunned.
Oh right they don’t normally wear clothes.
Reminding myself of that doesn’t help. The context is what it is. They’re my best friends and my two favorite girls and they’re stripping naked before me.
My brain fails me. “…Okay, so, uhh. Um. Hmmh. Huh.”
Mother of God there’s nothing different! They’re naked. They’re always naked! It hasn’t been a problem on VP, it won’t be a problem here! Man up!
I take a deep and steadying breath and resolutely refuse to think of patches of white and red on a set of pink coveralls, with pink patches on their matching ones.
“I guess we should… buy some food? And some clothes for me to use? And…”
And they turn their heads toward me, staring at me with one eye each. Side by side. Making me feel like I'm being stared down by a single creature. One with forward-facing eyes. And an orange blush.
They take slow steps closer. Thiva speaks first with an amused lilt to her voice. “Or maybe this is a good time to talk. You know, about the house rules.”
Vilek speaks as well, moving her tail sinuously in a teasing motion. “Relationship statuses.”
Thiva comes in with the finisher, practically purring. “Sleeping arrangements.”
Ah.
​
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And that's the end! Thank you all so much for reading, and check the comments for a small request from yours truly!
[First] [Previous]

This particularly uninteresting Friday, with the outside temperature reaching up to 90 degrees (32 Celsius for my European friends) I decided to avoid cooking, and instead order something.
"How about Chinese?" My new roommate, Nick suggests. He moved in with me last week after my old roommate moved out due to some bad blood between us, but it's in the past now, I hope.
"Nah, they take too long to deliver, by the time it gets here it's already cold," I said as I scrolled on Reddit, not really looking for anything in particular. I glance up at Nick, who was looking at me.
"Mcdonalds then?"
I shake my head in response. "They always get my orders wrong." Nick sighs. "You're hard to please." I chuckle. "I guess so."
"What do you suggest we eat then?" He crosses his arms. I shrug in response.
He sighs again, this time deeper than before.
Something catches my eye on my phone, an ad for a new restaurant. Hell's Kitchen. It's actually in our small town. "That's creepy" I mutter under my breath.
"What's that?" Nick calls out from the kitchen.
"Nothing!" I call back. He walks back into the room, wiping his hands with a towel.
"It's just this conspiracy theory, how the government listens in on our conversations and then gives us appropriate ads." Nick raises an eyebrow.
"We were talking about ordering food, and I got an ad for this new food place in our town, Hell's Kitchen."
He plops down on the couch next to me and leans in to look at my screen. "Looks fancy."
I click on the ad, which takes me to their homepage. "Let's see what they have got."
I navigate to their menu page and we begin scrolling through each item.
"Hell wings.." Nick gulps down on his saliva. "I wonder how spicy those are." He absolutely loves spicy. "Evil fries, what kind of name is that? They just look like regular fries." I comment, each item has a unique name related to Hell.
"Pizza of darkness, that sounds good." Nick points out with his finger. I shake my head in disgust. "It has pineapples dude." He chuckles.
"Then how about Inferno Pizza? It's just spicy pepperoni." I shrug, "Maybe, definitely sounds better than pineapple."
"We could also get some tortured hamburgers." I point out to him.
"I don't feel like eating a burger.." Nick replies. "And you say I'm hard to please." He laughs at that, I laugh too.
After discussing a couple more options we finally settle on Pizza of Wrath. It's put together with pepperoni, bacon strips, and mushrooms, + a mild ghost pepper sauce.
"Is there a number we're supposed to call, or do we order online?" Nick questions as I begin looking for the phone number.
"Don't see an order online option, there must be a phone number listed somewhere on the website."
"Ah there! Found it!" I exclaim in excitement, my stomach rumbles. Nick chuckles. "Me too, me too."
After confirming what we're ordering with Nick, I dial the number. It only rings once before someone picks up. I wait for a moment, to let them introduce themselves, as all fast food places do, but there's only silence, so I speak first.
"Uh Hello, is this Hell's Kitchen? We'd like to order some food."
A deep raspy voice responds. "Yes, what would you like to have?"
"Okay, we'd like two Pizzas of Wrath, small Evil Fries, and two large cokes of Doom." I cringe internally having actually said all that out loud.
The voice waits a moment before speaking again, "Is that all?" I look at Nick for confirmation that I didn't forget anything, but he's preoccupied with giggling like a little girl. I'm not sure which one of us is more cringe.
"Yes, that will be all."
"Okay, it'll be delivered to you in a minute."
"Wait, I didn't give you my address!" I shout into the receiver, but it's already too late, they hung up. I sigh, and then redial. "The recipient you are trying to reach is currently not available, please try again at another time."
"What's up?" Nick questions, having finally stopped laughing. "They don't have the address, and now the number is disconnected? not available? What does that mean? I just talked to them a moment ago." I'm beginning to get irritated.
Both of our heads jolt to the front door as someone rings the bell. Then we both look at each other. "There's no way, right?" Nick asks. I stand up and begin walking toward the front door.
Looking through the peephole, I see a man dressed in a business suit, with dark short hair, holding a couple of pizza boxes and a small paper bag on top. His eyes are a deep red, I didn't even know such an eye color existed.
I take a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous, and open the door. The man towers over me. He smiles, "Is this Jonah's and Nick's residence?" I gulp down a bunch of salivae, how does he know my name? Much less Nick's? I never mentioned it on the phone.
I nod in response. He smiles. "I have your food delivery here, my name is Lucifer."
A deep shiver goes down my spine, an incredibly uncomfortable feeling, it's like my body is screaming at me to run back inside and slam the door shut, that whoever is standing in front of me is highly dangerous.
"Why don't you come inside?" Nick suddenly appears beside me.
I shoot Nick a look, but he ignores me.
We both step aside to let Lucifer in.
The delivery guy takes a deep breath once inside and walks into the living room, placing the boxes and the paper bag on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.
I gulp and then speak, "How much do we owe you?"
He turns around and smiles at both of us. "Would you like to pay now, or after you die?" "After I die?" I stammered back at him.
"Yes, you'll sign a contract to pay after your death."
"I'll pay after I die," Nick says beside me, grinning. "Sounds fun."
"I'll pay now.." I respond. How would I even pay after I die? This sounds too sketchy. Nothing makes sense about this situation.
Lucifer nods and claps his hands. Suddenly, two folders with documents appear on the small coffee table, beside the food. He motions for Nick to come over, and snaps his fingers, a pen appearing between his fingers, which he hands over to Nick.
Nick looks excited as he takes the pen. Lucifer flips open the folder on the left. "Read through this if you want, otherwise you can sign here, and here." He points with his long finger to the bottom of the page.
"Jonah, want to come over to check your contract out?"
"My contract? I thought I'd be paying now." He nods. "Yes, you will be."
I walk over with shaky legs and look at the contract laid out in front of me.
Service Contract This contract is between the following parties; Contractor: Lucifer, the Prince of Darkness Client: Jonah Upon mutual agreement, the client will have 31 days to complete the following to pay for the services provided by the Contractor. 1. Consume the food that was delivered. 2. Introduce 3 friends to Hell's Kitchen. 3. Sever ties with the closest person to the client. 4. Murder a single person. Failure to comply with these terms will result in the client immediately relinquishing their rights to their soul.
What the fuck is this? A joke?
"Can't I just pay with cash?" I look up at Lucifer, he smiles and shakes his head. "By ordering our food, you agreed to sign either one of the contracts provided."
"What's the other contract then? How do I pay after I die?"
He nods to himself, "You'll work at Hell's Kitchen for 7 years, after that your debt will be paid off."
I swallow hard and take a deep breath. "I wish to pay after my death then."
Lucifer claps his hands together. "Excellent choice!" He exclaims a little too loudly.
A new contract appears before me.
Service Contract
This contract is between the following parties; Contractor: Lucifer, the Prince of Darkness Client: Jonah
Upon mutual agreement, the client will work at Hell's Kitchen for 7 years after they die.
Failure to comply with these terms will result in the client immediately relinquishing their rights to their soul.
How did I even get here? I just wanted to get some food...
"Done!" Nick exclaims excitedly, grinning from ear to ear, and hands the pen back to Lucifer.
He points the pen toward me, signaling for me to take it. "Ready to sign?"
"What if I don't want to sign either contract?" I ask, not wanting to sign either contract.
Lucifer sighs and places a palm on his face. "Refusal to sign either contract will result in your immediate extraction to Hell, where you'll stay till the end of time." His voice suddenly turned demonic, sending a chill down my spine.
I take the pen from his hand, and he retracts his palm off of his face and fixes his collar. I sign the contract with shaky hands.
"Excellent!" Lucifer exclaimed and then clasped his hands together, the contracts suddenly disappeared.
"I hope you enjoy your food." He comments and begins walking back toward the front door. "We will," Nick responds.
Once the front door shuts behind him, I collapse on the couch, beginning to shake.
Meanwhile, Nick opens up the paper bag and takes out his Coke, taking a sip.
"What the fuck just happened?" I question him.
"What do you mean? They delivered our food, nothing else happened."
I sigh. "Since I basically signed my soul away, I might as well eat what they brought." Nick nodded profusely and opened the pizza box.
In contrast to the scary experience of having to deal with Satan, the food tasted better than anything I'd ever had before.
So all that was yesterday, me and Nick haven't talked about it again. We did have a small fight this morning, he gave me a black eye, and I broke one of his legs, so he's in the hospital right now. I don't know what came over me, or him, but I was just so incredibly angry at everything, including him, and he seemed to be the same way.
I snapped out of it after I slammed a chair against his leg and heard a crack and then a loud scream.
The food was 100/10 in Hell's Kitchen, would highly recommend it. The price however was outrageously high. I can however still safely say that it was worth it, and I'm thinking of ordering again.

All I ever wanted was for my wife and I to live comfortably. But the longer we stayed together, the higher our bills increased. We’d already fought off debts from college, barely scraping by. Even after we paid them off, we were only able to afford a tiny apartment on the outskirts of New York City.
Sidewalks laid cracked everywhere while condemned buildings sat sadly against their crooked foundations. Crooked lampposts would hang only by electrical wires. Graffiti marked every street corner in bland art that existed without rhyme or reason. Homeless people could be found on every street corner, a constant reminder of what would happen if my wife and I failed to keep up with our payments.
However, I managed to make somewhat decent money as a plumber. But even then, it sometimes wasn’t enough to deal with loan sharks, the hefty utility bills, food prices, and gas money. I was willing to do anything to get us out.
And that is where I encountered gambling. I was willing to take the risks. I’d take any chance to obtain a reward, even just a small one. It started out with just a handful of poker games. Then I moved on to scratch tickets and slot machines. All I needed was enough to get by. Unfortunately, obtaining a payday from the casinos was impossible. I started growing desperate, which only led to more debt. The whole cycle sucked me down like Odysseus’ ship in Charybdis’ maw. And just like that, my relationship with my wife began to tear us apart.
My wife and I were once so close together. Before we married, there would be days where we’d work together at wood shops, creating 3D prints of various sci-fi characters and video games. Other times we’d study the components of circuits and use them to create elaborate lighting displays whenever Christmas arrived. Our wedding day was supposed to be the greatest day of our lives. Instead of relying on the help of others back like we did in college, we relied on ourselves.
But my actions tore all that apart. I didn’t know what else to do, either.
—
A few nights ago, I arrived at my shitty apartment, having completed a ten hour shift fixing the drains of several upper class folks. I rested my hand on the knob, expecting the worst from my wife. Sighing, I pushed the door. The moment I did, she was already in the front hall. Her eyes were scrunched and she was holding a bank statement, smacking it for emphasis.
“Care for an explanation?” She demanded.
I rubbed my temples, removing my scum covered overalls and plopping them right into the nearest laundry hamper. We locked eyes. Breaking eye contact with her would only ignite her anger further. She was holding another piece of evidence of my failures. My failure to strike it rich. All I could do was stand there sheepishly, tail tucked behind me, and wait to get ripped a new one. No words could come out of my mouth.
She marched up to me, holding it in my face. “Frank, you wasted three-thousand dollars at the casino AGAIN?!” my wife bellowed.
I set my tool box down and washed the pipe gunk from my hands, looking down just for a bit.
“Turn around and look me in the eyes.”
Resting a hand on my eyes, I glanced over at her petite frame. Then, I began to speak. “We can live comfortably if you just give-“
“Enough of the excuses! We nearly lost our apartment twice by you betting on slots, you wasted our heating money on roulette, and now this!”
I held up my hands reassuringly. “Look, just let me figure this out! I’ll think of some way to get the money!”
“You’d better. Otherwise we’re getting a divorce. Got it?”
Without another word, I put on a casual outfit, exiting for some fresh air. Shutting the door behind me, I gazed back at the unpolished apartment number on the frame. Wincing, I clenched a fist and descended the rickety stairs. Eventually, my boots hit the cracked pavement, and I headed off.
---
I had only made it a few blocks from my apartment, when I noticed shadows lurking in one of the alleyways. Picking up my stride, I try to evade the figures. They drew closer and closer. My stride changed into a sprint. Another alleyway comes into my sights. I make a break for it, hoping for an opportunity to escape. Only a dead end greets me. Before long, the figures cornered me. The light from a street lamp illuminated two shady faces. Loan sharks. Before I could react, the duo held me up by my throat.
“What the hell are you guys doing?!” I strained, feebly kicking back one of the thugs. He jammed a fist right under my rib cage. My lips pursed as I lost my breath. The other grabbed me by the chin, grinning like a maniac and revealing his tobacco rotted jaw. I gulped.
“Frank, calm down. Take it easy,” every word he said ground my inner ears. Brown saliva sprayed on my cheeks. “We just want to have a little talk…” I didn’t have the courage to speak up. All I could do was let them tell me everything.
“Your landlord is getting rather impatient with your payments. We just came to send a little message. He has some demands.” The other guy snarled.
I tugged on my collar. “What…demands?”
“The landlord wants you to cough up $18,000 for your next payment!”
My hands grew clammy. Were they out of their minds? I was a plumber, not a heart surgeon! I didn’t have that kind of money! Besides, the rent was only $500 a month.
“You have until the end of the month,” one of the goons croaked.
That was only two weeks! I couldn’t have made that kind of money with such constraints! I’d barely be able to afford food and electricity! Negotiating was out of the question. God knows what would have happened to me if I dared speak up.
“The landlord has given you chance after chance to pay up. But you’ve never followed through. He’s let it slide for three months. You haven’t paid shit in that time frame. Do you realize how much he has to pay for his own apartment? If you fail to pay at that time, there will be consequences…” He makes a capiche gesture.
I nodded. The moment I complied, they released me, disappearing into the smog.
—
I stood outside a graffiti covered subway station, pacing around, hands in my pockets. My fists constricted as I pounded a nearby wall. There’s no way I would have been able to make that kind of money! Craps were too unpredictable, arcade machines were always rigged, and roulette was too high in stakes. Seeing red, I screamed and kicked a wall as hard as I could. My foot throbbed and once I was done with my fit, I broke down sobbing. The sidewalk darkened with my tears. I pressed my head against it, clawing at it until my fingernails turned crimson.
Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Wiping the tears away, I glanced over my shoulder. A card was lying on the floor. Its borders were covered in green dollar symbols. The rest of the card was a silver color shiny enough to reflect my face in it. Written in gold letters were the following:
ACES HIGH CASINO
WIN ONE ROUND OF BLACKJACK
AND EARN FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS!
NO MONETARY WAGER NEEDED
TABLE 777
My eyes lit up. All I had to do was win one game of blackjack, and I’d be rich? Dimples formed on my cheeks and I pumped my fist. I nearly clicked my heels in joy, but decided against it. I’d already caused enough of a scene already, and I wanted to make sure nobody knew my secret. When I flipped it around, it had an address also written in golden letters.
---
Despite the address being in an unknown area, I still managed to pull it up on my phone’s map and arrived without any struggle. The casino itself was a pigsty, to say the least. Smokers polluted the air in the prison gray interior. Slot machines with broken lights clicked and whirred while cheap dice clattered against tables with peeling felt. Meanwhile, the concrete floor was covered in colonies of roaches while neglected beer bottles sat against the rungs of several tables. The only thing that was kept well was the bar and a room draped with navy blue curtains with golden sashes. Emblazoned above the doorway was the number 777.
This was the first time I had entered a casino smiling. For once, I thought that this was my lucky night.
When I pushed the curtains away, they revealed a room with ornate black wallpaper, an assortment of oak desks and other furniture. The walls were covered in fine Baroque paintings. On the floor was a single blue carpet covered in opulent tapestry. I followed the back wall to a single dealer table coated in green felt. Two seats were present with one patron taking the seat on the left. He was shaking with what I assumed was excitement.
Behind him was the dealer, a trim man with long blond hair and a top hat over his nose and eyes. He wore a dapper tuxedo free of blemishes that shimmered in the light of a single hanging glass lamp. His skin was pure and free of moles, glistening with slight amounts of glitter.
“Why, hello there…” The man spoke in a voice slicker than the gel in his hair. “Are you here to win big?” Unlike the loan sharks, his teeth were cleaner than a freshly washed plate.
“Yup. Deal me in.” I said, straightening my back, shuffling into the last seat. The other player had his jaw locked together. His eyes were drooping and bloodshot. Sweat pooled around his brow like glass beads. Just like him, I always felt nervous about losing, so their reaction was understandable.
“You know the rules of blackjack. I deal out cards. You can say ‘hit me’ if you want more cards. Get closest to twenty one without going over. Dealer only draws two cards. And you can also surrender your cards for half your bet. When you don’t want any more cards, say the word ‘stand.’” The dealer said, shuffling the cards through his hands and manipulating them like a sculptor with a ceramic pot.
I double blinked. Wager? “What do I bet with?”
The mysterious man just focused on passing out his cards. First, he brought out two cards for himself and dealt two more to each player. Instantly, he flipped over his cards. A jack and a king. Twenty.
I clutched the velvet backed cards, seeing what I was dealt.
A ten and a seven of hearts. I forced my face into a neutral smile. My stomach twisted. There was no way I could get twenty one that easily. “Surrender,” I said, pushing my cards to the dealer. All he did was reshuffle the cards and toss me two more. They didn’t even bother looking back up at me during the process.
The other player started clutching his stomach. My smile vanished. I carefully looked over the left guy’s cards. A seven and a two of clubs.
“Hit me…” the guy on the left choked out. An ace of spades. A total of ten. Sweat trickled down his head like a shower in April. His eyes welled up with tears while foam developed around his mouth. I raised a brow, wondering what his deal was.
I knew the stakes of gambling, but my sixth sense kept telling me something was just not right. No. That couldn’t be true. Even if there was some kind of string attached or fine print I didn’t read, I couldn’t risk giving up that money. Besides, this might have been my only chance to obtain such a vast award without much risk.
“Hit me…” The man wheezed. A five of hearts. His teeth chattered.
While I waited for my turn, I stood up and walked around the room, getting a closer look at all the ornate gadgets and such. My eyes focused on a painting on the leftmost wall. It resembled a man in rich military regalia. But something made my hair stand on end. Their upturned white mustache looked damp, and their face sagged like they were crying. Linear, stick-like shadows were cast on the sleeves. Edging forward, they came into focus.
Hands. I followed their forms outward, which extended into oily, dripping arms.
“Husssssssssh…” A faint noise echoed from somewhere in the room.
“What?” I mouthed, turning an ear to the source.
“Husssssssssh…” It came from the painting. I backed away, hands out at my sides. Was someone dragged in that painting?
“Where are you going? You forgot to pay up!” The dealer yelled back, hands slamming on the table and pulling out a sack of navy blue poker chips.
I double took. “I thought the card said there was no monetary wager needed?”
“There isn’t.”
Then, I looked at the ground. There was a second rug on the ground. The tapestry matched, but its patterns didn’t match with the other rug. It was off center from the rest of the decorations, like someone didn’t even bother setting it up properly. Taking a closer look, I could hear faint whispers coming from it, too. When I looked back up, the guy on the left was gone. I rushed over, checking his cards. A total of twenty five.
Swallowing saliva, I stood in confusion, wondering what to do next. I scraped my fingernails against my palms. I needed that money. If I didn’t get it, I’d lose my wife and my apartment. And what about the loan sharks? Only God knew what would happen to me if I didn’t pay up. What was I going to do? What would happen if I lost? Would I turn into another object just like the other guy? Or would I be in for a worse fate?
“That’s because there isn’t a MONETARY wager. I’m still taking half of what you owe.”
A sharp pain punched my left side. My left side felt heavier than before, like my veins were replaced with tungsten. I grabbed my fingers around my chest. The area around the pain almost felt solid like a tumor. Brushing around the area, I could make out a cylindrical mass. I tried to inspect it some more, but the pain overwhelmed me, and I crumpled to the ground.
I crouched down on all fours, trying to get back to my seat, but the pain froze me in place. Reaching out a hand, I called out for help. Nothing.
Slithering away, I pulled back the curtains to the entrance of the casino. I spat on the ground from the bludgeoning pain.
“Don’t feel out of luck. You can still surrender once more and you still have two chances left!” The dealer smiled, adjusting his hat. It was only a glimpse, but I caught a look at his upper face. His eyes were on his hat and his forehead was blank. The dealer looked like they were plucked straight out of an Alice in Wonderland book. What or who was this dealer?
“Think long and hard about this. I saw you arguing with your wife. And those ruffians nearly killed you.”
I clambered back to my seat. I still didn’t know what that dealer did to me. Something in me forced me to get back up and keep playing. More questions ate at me the longer I played. How did he know that information?
Then, I remembered feeling a tap back at Grand Central Station. And the card that brought me here. He couldn’t have been human. Was he some kind of demon? I didn’t bother asking. There wasn’t any way he would spill the beans about his nature.
After what seemed like hours, I managed to writhe back into my seat, slumping over the table like I’d just had the worst hangover.
“Ready to try again?” The charming man said, resting his chin on his interlocked hands.
Reluctantly, I gave him a thumbs up. He took back the cards and began manipulating the split deck once more. I analyzed every move he made. None of the cards were tricked. He wasn’t second dealing and didn’t have any aces up his sleeve. Never revealed anything under the table, either. The only thing that brought me reassurance was that he was honest. Still, keeping an eye out was critical.
The dealer revealed his cards. Two tens again. One of spades, one of hearts. His face was harder than diamond and glowed like one, too. Not a pleasing glow, but one that would hex anyone that dared gaze at it for too long.
I looked at my cards. An ace and a seven. Eighteen. Gripping my lower abdomen, I stayed crumpled in agony. The odds of getting a blackjack were slim and the stabbing pain skewed my thoughts.
“Surrender…” I wheezed. The words slipped out of my mouth like the dying breath of a wounded soldier. The dealer smiled, holding a pile of blue poker chips around him. He waved his hand over the mound and made an inaudible chant. Then, they vanished.
I held my hands over my face, bracing myself. Suddenly, the pain doubled, shifting to my right like a mudslide down a hill. Now I knew everything the previous player was going through.
I vomited out something hard and blue. A poker chip. Suddenly, my guts turned and another seven spilled out. My esophagus wound itself into knots more contorted than cobwebs. “I…forfeit!”
The man started to smile. “Without these?” With a thud, the hat faced dealer pulled out a jar filled with a kidney and a piece of liver. They still were oozing with blood that plumed and fit their containers. I remembered how the dealer said that there was no monetary wager. He never said there wasn’t a wager at all. My wager…was my organs.
“You want them back? Win them.” He set them back on the ground.
Now there was no choice. My fate was sealed if I tried to leave. I started to shed tears. If I didn’t get these organs back and fast, I was done for. Even if someone saw me passed out on the floor, finding donors for organs wasn’t guaranteed. And even then, I’d be put further in debt. Nothing would be solved. Then again, was trying to beat this guy even worth it? No. The reward was too great. Taking a few deep breaths, I sat back down. Reluctantly, I asked that he proceed.
The dealer drew out cards just like before. He took the cards and gave them a good shuffle. Plucking two cards out of the stack, he revealed them. A king and a nine. Another poker chip tumbled out my throat. I spat it out in a red and blue plastic heap. Not paying attention to the mess I made, he handed me two cards. A jack and a two. Twelve.
“Hit…me.” An ace. Aces could count as one or eleven depending on what other cards were drawn. I still had a fighting chance.
“Hit me.” A five.
His dead stare tore at my soul. I scratched against the felt, the wounds in my fingers reopening. From the corner of my eyes, I could see him frowning. “Are you going to play, or do you want all that money to go to waste?”
I gritted my teeth. “Shut up…Hit me…” Swallowing saliva, I watched the dealer play out my last card. A queen.
“You lose.” The dealer said coldly, grabbing a pile of poker chips and holding them close. He waved his hand over the mound and made another incantation. Then, they vanished once more. Everywhere at once, burning pain sears my skin, making me blackout.
---
When I wake up and feel my arms, they are covered in something hard, blue and plastic. My clothes were gone. I examined my extremities and my torso.
My skin was missing and replaced with poker chips. They were shaped to fit every part of my body. Cracks filled with blood gushed out with each slight movement I made. Horrified, I spilled my guts. More poker chips slid out my throat. Piles of skin laid clumped on the side of the table in hideous pink and blood red sheets.
“I think you know what’s at stake now. One try left. Better make it count. You want to end up in an object for an eternity?” He taunted.
The rigidity of my plastic coated skin made each movement expose more of the cracks, searing my muscles. I groaned as I raised myself up. Crimson liquid dampened the table. I pounded at the table. This was it. I either walked out with my money and saved my marriage and tied up all those knots. Or I lost and suffered a fate worse than death. Giving up was not an option. I gave the mysterious man a death glare, not even bothered by his resistance.
He plucks out two cards. A nine and a ten. This was my chance.
Then, my cards were revealed. A ten and a two. Fingers rattling, I took a deep breath and let calmness seep into me.
“Hit…Me…” I sputtered. Another two.
Huffing, I opened my mouth to speak again. The dealer just stared into me, tilting his head like a vulture waiting for roadkill. The poker chips rattled again, grinding against each other.
“Hit…” I paused for a moment, recollecting my thoughts. At a value of fourteen, I needed at least a six to beat the dealer. But an eight or higher would result in disaster. Gulping down another chaser of saliva, I spoke. “Hit…me.”
To my chagrin, a five slipped out of the hand. I was now tied. Staring at the pile of skin and my other organs, I closed my eyes and shook in horror. An ace or a two were the only cards I could draw in order to win. I looked down at my cards, sweat dripping on the table. With a quick glance, I gazed at the eyes on the man’s silk hat.
“Don’t keep me waiting.” The man demanded.
I’d begun hyperventilating. His stare grew more intense the longer I waited. His confident smile turned into a frown of irritation. Eyebrows and mouth twisted into a hideous snarl. He rattled his fingers against the dealing table. The cacophony made my ears go numb.
Then, I whispered my answer.
“Hit…me…”
The man darted up, smiling back in anticipation. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
I closed my eyes, expecting the worst.
“HIT ME!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Then, the last card was revealed:
A two.
I’d won!
My mouth dropped. The sheets of skin unfurled themselves and flattened over me. Two organ jars spilled over, their contents rising in a beam of white and torpedoing back into my body. Immediately, I yelped at the top of my lungs, skipping my heels and doing a jig. I regained my strength, instantly looking around for traces of my prize. For several minutes, I wasn’t able to uncover anything. Staring directly at the dealer’s face, I asked him to reveal my prize.
“I don’t have it with me.” He said, blankly.
Not listening, I scrutinized every inch of the room, looking behind his station, checking under the table, everything.
I searched everywhere for my prize, my happiness dissipating. With each step I took, my smile faded even further, twisting into a frown. My nose crinkled. “Where is the fifty million?” I demanded, overturning the table, ripping off the ornate paintings and yanking the tasseled rugs off the floor. “You promised me fifty million dollars if I beat you! Do you realize what’s gonna happen to me if I don’t get that money, you charlatan?!”
The strange man just stood there, not even acknowledging my pleas.
“YOU PROMISED ME MONEY! You’re a thief!” I roared, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I only did this for my wife, to save my marriage! I almost gave up my life trying to help my family out! How can you take that away from me?!”
The demon stuck his hands behind his back and shook his head. He rolled his eyes back in thought. Something was up with him. “You aren’t like the other gamblers.” He said.
“Other gamblers?” I said, stepping back.
“They all wanted the money for worthless things. A mansion with fountains and a view, hookers, a trip to Tahiti…” He paced around me. His face was rather relaxed and calm. Never once did he lose eye contact with me. “But you had so much determination to help your wife out that you would risk it all. I admire that. It took me a while to figure out that you were actually a kind hearted person.”
I saw red and tried to punch him. He grabbed my fist, shoving it back.
“Listen to me. I understand your rage. There never was a prize in the first place. It was nothing but a lure to capture those that wasted their lives away. But there is one thing that you don’t understand.”
I saw red and I thrusted my hands back. “You nearly killed me all for nothing?!”
“Yes, but that was before I saw you the way you really were. Listen to my words.”
Slowly, I relaxed my posture, but still remained firm. “Why should I listen to you?”
“I can help you out of your situation.” The man said.
My nostrils flared. “You owe me money you snake!”
“You never needed the money in the first place.”
Taken aback, I retreated. “What do you mean?” My arms relaxed once more.
“You are a plumber, aren’t you? I saw you come home from work, just barely catching a glimpse of your schedule. Forty hours a week for thirty-eight dollars an hour for five days a week. That’s $15200 a week for two weeks. You already have everything you need.”
“But you don’t understand. They need $18000!” I pleaded.
He wouldn’t budge. “Trying to earn this money via dumb risks and chances will not get you anywhere. Look at all the things that you’ve done wrong.”
Tears began to well up. “And I want to change that.” I wiped my eyes. “But what am I supposed to do now?”
“The only way you can earn that money is through grit and spit,” He said, walking around me. “You aren’t going to find solace through good luck alone. You have to work for it. And you already have the tools that some people don’t have. If you give up now, you might as well have lost. Think about it.” With those last words, he raised his hand and snapped it, disappearing without a trace. Slowly, I gathered my things and walked out of the casino, head hanging low.
---
The following day, I sat outside an old woman’s faucet, inspecting how to fix a leak. I wondered what the demon’s words meant to me. Before I stuck the wrench up to a U trap, I remembered my pay. If I worked the same amount of hours as before, I’d only make $15200. But if I pulled off some overtime and worked several extra hours, I might just be able to pay off my debts.
I started staying up much later than before. Not long after, my wife started to become suspicious. Eventually, she confronted me.
“Frank, you’ve been staying up late. Are you going back to the casinos again?” she asked, hands on her hips.
I closed my eyes. Instead of fear, calmness filled my veins and my blood stilled. “Not this time. I’ve been working overtime.”
Her face loosened up for just a moment before hardening back up. I held my hands up and motioned my palms downward. “Listen, I have been horrible lately. All my gambling did was drown us in deeper debt.”
Her expression began to soften up again, her frown vanishing.
“I want to change things. We used to work so well together, doing everything to help each other. Instead of fighting against each other, it’s time we made peace. And we bring us out of our debt, together.” I held out my hand for her to shake it. She kept her arm pulled back and folded like the pincer of a mantis. Inch by inch, she extended it and took it.
The following day, my wife convinced me to go to therapy to get out of my addiction, which I gladly obliged. Simultaneously, she decided to start up another job working as an electrician. Day by day passed and we pooled all our resources as one. Before our eyes, bills were paid and debt disappeared faster than eye floaters. Our financial status wasn’t the only thing that changed. Her once crusty mood lightened up and she began to smile more. She began to believe my words and began to respect the changes I made.
And then, we paid off our rent. We got a letter from our landlord, saying that we now were even. The moment that letter came in, we embraced each other. The only question now was, what were we going to do with this extra money?
Not too long ago, we ended up earning enough money to create another 3d project, this time of a Companion Cube. Day after day, we created more projects. Although we weren’t as happy as our days back in college, we still could make the best with what we had. In retrospect, the hat-faced man put up a good fight, but I managed to come out of a casino with more than I came in with. It wasn’t exactly money, but it wasn’t worthless, either.

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When you sup with the Devil, it is best to bring a long spoon. Bill "Shaky" Spearman, Terran Age of Expansion philosopher and movie producer
We are each our own Devil, and we each make the world our own Hell. - Oscar Wildman, Age of Expansion Bongistan Warlord
She comes with either thunder and brimstone, or silence and sweetness. Either way, it is always best to remember that she is the Detainee, and bound for a reason. - Tal.re'k, Trena'ad philosopher.
The Detainee is at her most dangerous when you feel you are beyond her power. - Da'amn'dmo'o, Lanaktallan Philosopher, before his disappearance from a locked room.
Nakteti set down the multitool and sat down, wiping her forehead. Her fur was matted with sweat, working out in the shadeless sun. There were no clouds in the sky to keep the anomaly from beating down on her, the strange radiations emitted by the anomaly converted into standard sunlight by some kind of field generated by the innermost layer of the SUDS.
They were almost done.
One more separation, and the intertwined timelines, slices of the past wedged against the present, would be undone. The SUDS would return to operating at a single temporal point.
Then the work to put back together the shielding around the anomaly could begin.
Nakteti looked at the buildings around her. All of them had a slight second image, like a light case of double-vision after too many narcobrews.
A far cry different from the multiple overlapping versions.
Storm clouds began to form over her as the temperature plummeted. Nakteti looked up to see the clouds spiraling out from a central point that was a dark mass in the sky. She reached up and touched her temple, putting two fingers on her datalink and opening a channel to her ship.
"Chuck, I've got storm clouds. I don't remember the weather generator scheduling any rainfall for today," Nakteti said.
There was no answer.
"Chuck, are you there?" Nakteti asked.
No answer. No hissing of 'dead air' where the implant added the hissing noise to let someone know the system was working, there just wasn't anyone there. It was dead silence.
"Nakteti to Surscee, can you hear me?" she asked.
Dead air.
"Nakteti to Magnus, do you read?" Nakteti asked.
Still nothing.
She pushed up the power and tried again.
And got nothing.
She stood up, squinting at the clouds. Wind was picking up, heavy with the smell of rain, and drops were starting to patter on the asphalt of the parking lot the last of the temporal disruptors were being set up.
"Anyone at all, can anyone read me on this channel?" she asked.
Dead air.
Before she could say anything else a hand dropped onto her shoulder and a voice spoke.
"Being alone is bitch, isn't it?"
She shrieked in fear, throwing herself forward into a roll, landing on her catching hands before kicking off, her gripping hands pulling her daggers from her belt. She came up smoothly, turning in place, to stare at who had touched her.
The Lady Lord of Hell stood next to the disruptor, lighting a cigarette with a steel cased lighter.
"You look like a fool," the Lady Lord of Hell said through the exhalation of smoke, tucking away the lighter and pack in one breast pocket on her dark blouse. She reached out and put one hand on the temporal disruptor even as she took another drag and removed the cigarette from her mouth, exhaling smoke.
Nakteti heaved a deep breath, slowly sheathing her daggers. Her muscles were twitching, thrumming, as fear chemicals raced through her bloodstream.
The Detainee was wearing her typical dark charcoal gray skirt and blouse ensemble, belted at the waist with a black belt, cufflinks with an odd rune on them, the flag lapel pin, and the red flower at her throat. Black boots with silver buckles that vanished under the ankle-length skirt. Her fingernails were manicured and enameled with blood red coloration.
"What do you want?" Nakteti asked, knowing her voice was hard and harsh due to the fear. She pushed the urge to submit down and away, clenching her teeth.
"You," the Matron of Hell said simply. She exhaled smoke again, even though she had not taken a drag, only her gunmetal gray eyes visible in the faint suggestion of a face through the smoke. Lightning flashed, reflecting off the smoke.
"I will not let you take me," Nakteti said.
The Lady Lord of Hell shrugged, stepping through the smoke as thunder rumbled.
For a moment, there was a perfectly shaped hole in the smoke left behind by her passage.
"Take?" the Matron of Hell asked. She gave a low, sultry chuckle. "I did not come to take."
She took a drag off her cigarette, stopping just out of knife reach of Nakteti, looking down at the Tnvaru female.
"I need a Hell Guide," she said softly. "You'd make an outstanding one."
"A what?" Nakteti asked.
"A Lord of Hell, a Hell Guide, to find lost souls and bring them to me," the Matron of Hell said. "It would be you who would seek out the paths that have been lost or forgotten, gather the souls, and bring them back to me."
"Why would I do that?" Nakteti asked.
The Matron of Hell smiled, a mouth full of interlocked triangular teeth. "There are many reasons. After all, you have come to the end of your travels. The end of your journey. Serve me, and you can continue on exploring, blazing trails, and traveling," she smiled.
Nakteti frowned as the thunder boomed, closer now than before.
"Already your loyal crew have agreed to serve me, leaving you alone, Nakteti," the Lady Lord of Hell said. "Magnus and Surscee with just the temptation of sweet fruit, Chuck with the agreement to give him full rein over himself and freedom from enslavement of the biological," she said. Her smile got wider and wisps of smoke eeked from between her teeth. "You stand alone, now, Nakteti. With none to save you."
She turned and began walking in a circle around Nakteti, who turned to keep the Matron of Hell in sight.
"Magnus and Surscee abandoned you. Chuck has fled from your bondage. Even Major Carnight is beyond you. You are as alone now, even more so, than when Enraged Phillip saved your motley crew and badly damaged vessel by interposing himself between you and your natural predator," the Matron of Hell said.
"No, they would not abandon me. They swore oaths of blood and loyalty to me," Nakteti said.
The Lady Lord of Hell snorted. "To a xeno," she chuckled as the lightning flashed again, closer, from horizon to horizon. "To an alien. An oath to an alien."
"You have nothing to offer," Nakteti said. "Nothing that would convince them to break their oaths, their friendship, their loyalty." The last was said through the rumble of thunder.
The Lady Lord of Hell smiled wider. "In a time where their people are riven and essentially extinct, you think that an oath to an alien, a strange creature who is so inhuman that you have too many arms, holds more weight than the word of she who cares for the souls of the departed?"
"No, they would never break their oaths," she said. Lightning flashed, lighting everything up, so close that Nakteti felt her fur raise up.
The Detainee's face was still slightly shadowed.
The Lady Lord of Hell smiled wider as thunder rumbled around them. "I told them that you released them from their oaths. That you were done with them. They had served their purpose and you no longer needed them," she said. Lightning struck the ground around them, dozens, hundreds of bolts, scattered as far as Nakteti could see. The world turned bluish white for a moment.
Nakteti shook her head. "No, they would not believe you. You are the Detainee, the Lady Lord of Hell, the Matron of the Damned, lies slip from your lips as easy as breath to a baby," she said.
"If you think so," the Detainee chuckled, her voice almost lost in the bone-shaking crack of thunder that went on and on.
She stopped, holding out a hand, as the thunder faded.
An ice cube was in her hand, a tiny figure of a Terran inside. Lightning miles away glimmered on the surface of the ice.
"Of course, there is Major Carnight. Their uncle. Beloved brother to their mother," the Matron of the Damned smiled. "Leave them behind, be my Hell Guide, and I will restore him."
Nakteti shook her head as the thunder rumbled, shaking her bones. "No. He was my friend, my first human friend, and he would not have me make a deal with one such as you."
She closed her hand and steam burst from between her fingers with tiny screams.
"I can restore him. There are things beyond your knowledge, your understanding, that keep him frozen on ice. No true love's kiss will save him. No dragon's breath. By denying me, your quest to save him fails, Traveler. Swear allegiance to me, and I will restore him, restore the Twin's beloved uncle, and return to you your first human friend," the Detainee said. She exhaled smoke, the gunmetal gray eyes staring at Nakteti through the smoke.
Nakteti shook her head. "No. I gave my oaths to them as surely as they gave them to me. Major Carnight is in my care, and I have sworn to protect him. I will not break my oaths, my bond, my word," Nakteti said.
The Detainee moved over to the disruptor and put her hand on it.
"All your effort will come to naught by your stubborn refusal to serve me, Traveler," the Matron of the Damned said, smiling that shark tooth smile again. "Swear to serve me," the last was said in iron hard tones.
"No," Nakteti said. Lightning flashed around them. Something in the distance exploded, sending up mile high trails of sparks.
"They have abandoned you. Serve me, join them," the Lady Lord of Hell said, her voice mixed with the thunder.
"No." Again, lightning flashed.
"Serve me, Traveler, save your first human friend," the Detainee stated, her voice cold as space as the lightning ripped and tore around them.
"No." Lightning hit so close that Nakteti's fur stood up and her fingertips went numb.
"Thrice asked, thrice denied," the Detainee said through the world-ending crash of thunder
She looked at the disruptor for a long moment. She pinched the top with two fingers, moving it over only a few feet before setting it down.
"So be it," she said. She looked off to the West, where lightning was raking the ground from the storm, then slowly to the east, her eyes narrowed, her mouth tight.
Her face hardened and she looked at the charge she had shifted.
Lightning began to arc from the sky and Nakteti realized with horror it was going to hit the disruptostabilization charge.
The Lady Lord of Hell touched the top and the charge fired off.
Through the howling of chronotrons, Nakteti heard the Detainee's voice even as the Matron of the Damned vanished as the lightning struck, missing the charge, the Detainee, and Nakteti.
"You'd have made an outstanding Hell Guide."
The explosion of the electricity superheating the air knocked Nakteti through the air and she hit the ground in a heap.
Darkness claimed her.
-----
"Easy now, milady," Magnus's voice was gentle. "You've got some burns. I gave you med injection, but your fur's a loss."
Nakteti's eyes fluttered and she opened them, looking up at the Terran, who was staring down at her.
"What happened?" Nakteti asked. She could feel the tingling burning of medical nanites at work, could smell burnt fur, and her right arms were numb.
"There was a slight radiation surge from the anomaly," Surscee said, from just beyond her sight. "Without the great panels, the SUDS tried to protect the surface with sudden storms, tried to discharge the energy as lightning by striking it into the superconductor grid built into the middle of the layer. Lightning hit our carefully planned setup, overcharging the system."
Nakteti sat up, wiping her mouth. Magnus helped her with careful hands.
Chuck was standing by the deployed disruptostabilizer.
"It's a good thing you adjusted for the slight elevation change," the Digital Sentience said. "If you had put it in the original position, the disruption would have failed and caused a cascade instead."
Nakteti slowly got to her feet, accepting Magnus's offer of a wineskin. The water inside tasted of limes and helped clear the strange taste of berries and tinfoil from her mouth.
"It wasn't me," Nakteti said. She looked around. "The Detainee came to me, told me each of you had sworn to serve her. Right before she left, she moved the charge and fired it."
Chuck frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Pretty sure," Nakteti said softly. She drew her sword slowly, grounding the tip and leaning against it.
Her legs were getting pins and needles as feeling came back.
"What's our status?" Nakteti asked.
"The layers are separating. The anomaly's gone back to normal," Chuck said. He pointed at the buildings at the bottom of the space elevator. "The mat-trans station came online. It goes to the primary control room."
"Hopefully we'll find the repair crew there," Nakteti said. She was breathing heavy. "Give me a minute to catch my breath and we'll head out."
Chuck nodded.
Nakteti looked at the other three. "I knew she was lying. None of you would break your oaths," she said. "We have come too far together. All of you value your own honor and your oaths too much to break them at the behest of the Devil."
All three nodded.
Nakteti looked at Chuck, straightening up. She slowly sheathed her blade.
"Where is the primary control room?" she asked.
Surscee smiled.
"Atlantis."
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It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark, when out of the blue, my wife called me at work. "We're going to Niagara Falls for the weekend. I got us an awesome deal!"
We had both been working at our first "full-fledged" jobs for a year and had reached that moment after graduation when you suddenly realize you can't make that impact on the world your student enthusiasm once promised. At first, I just sighed. It was the dead of January, and I had already expended all my energy on a week of inconsequential stress. I just wanted to collapse on the couch for two days. Sarah felt a similar weary exhaustion. I could tell. Her tone was more hopeful than excited, but she had dreaded the routine we were sinking into and was trying her best to pull us free.
I looked to the ceiling and adjusted my telephone headset. At that time I was working at Stats Canada on the tele-query desk. I took a deep breath and, as convincingly as possible, said, "Sounds good." I don't think she bought it, but we went nonetheless.
This was Niagara Falls before the casinos when there was a very distinct off-season. When we got to the hotel, we were given the details of our "lovers' special". One dinner to be used either Friday or Saturday, two breakfasts, a roll of tokens for the arcade, 10% off some "4D" movie ride experience, and a 2-for-1 coupon to Max Tussaud's. I guessed it was Madame's nephew? We also got a bottle of sparkling wine in our room and chocolate treats on our pillows. I was impressed. It sounded good.
When we got into our room and saw the "bottle" of wine - basically an aeroplane-sized glass and half - and the chocolates - "fun wrapped" Oh Henry's left over from Halloween - we both started to laugh. The tone for two wonderful days had been set. We decided to cash in on our dinner coupon right away.
The restaurant off the lobby had hopes of being better. There were huge panoramic windows that promised a view of the gorge. Unfortunately, they had some winter moisture problems that day, and it felt like we were defrosting amid the dripping streaks and foggy patches. The decor was your standard booths and tables though the "romantic" lighting was unique. Dollar store battery-powered tea lights were lodged inside thick tumbler glasses and shed a muted pleasantness in a "what a great idea for a craft" sort of way. I had a feeling they were created by our waitress since she was the one who always seemed to be fussing with them. Only one other couple was in the dining room, so she attended to us immediately.
"Can I get you something to start?"
"Sure." "Thank you, that would be nice." We both responded simultaneously.
"And what would the lady like this evening?"
Sarah smiled at the flattery. "I think I'll have a glass of white wine." She glanced over at me to see my reaction. This was a subtle cue of the mood to follow. Diet Coke was usually the beverage of choice. She didn't normally drink alcohol. One glass numbed her nose and made her giggle far too easily. When she did drink, however, it meant she was comfortable with my company and open to anything to follow. I raised my eyebrows in a debonair way.
"And for the gentleman?"
"Do you have Foster's on tap?"
"Yes we do."
"I'll have a pint please."
Sarah smiled at the happy memories I invoked. At university, Foster's was my signature beer. It was at a time when Crocodile Dundee was a known name, and Australia was inexplicably cool. 15 cent buffalo wings and a pitcher of Foster's was the Tuesday night special at the London Arms pub. There the Classics Club would meet and, as a group, circle the wagons and drink ourselves into extroverts.
As soon as the waitress left, Sarah smiled at me. She reached out and held my hand across the table. With my gaze on hers, she slipped her foot from her shoe and slowly began sliding it up my pant leg.
"I got a pedicure this morning." She announced seductively.
I nodded and pretended I didn't notice her invitation. "What colour?" I asked.
"I'm not telling." She teased. "You'll just have to find out later." Her devious little smile was gorgeous.
"Mmmm. I can't wait."
When the waitress returned with our drinks, we immediately retreated to our personal spaces as if we had been discovered by the chaperone. Sarah opened the menu and began to salivate at the variety.
"Can we add an appetizer to the package dinner?" Her question seemed innocent enough.
"You're on the package?" Our friendly waitress disappeared, and we were no longer a lady or a gentleman. She ripped the menu out of Sarah's hand and took mine before I had even opened it. She then scurried to her podium and brought back a tattered, grease-stained, photocopied page that we had to share. We both burst out laughing.
The waitress was flustered that we were not as bothered as she was. "The drinks are NOT included!"
"What choices do we have?" I asked, expecting the usual chicken or fish. I had been on many packages before with my parents.
"Coffee or tea." The waitress snapped.
Sarah and I looked at each other in amused disbelief.
"I'll have coffee please." I didn't even flinch at the ridiculously limited package. I was eager to get my order in early.
"And I'll have the tea!" Sarah followed my lead. "Can I have some milk with that?"
"Yes." The waitress snarled.
"Fantastic!" I enthused.
"Yes, great! I'm glad we got the package, Honey." Sarah joked.
The waitress stormed off and returned sometime later with our lettuce-only salads drowned in Kraft's Italian dressing and our chewy chicken dinners, which she had thoughtfully allowed to cool. She tossed the plates on the table and left us to peacefully devour our deal. We didn't see her again until we requested the bill. For some reason, we found it amusing to leave a generous tip, which of course, defeated the purpose of the package, but we didn't care. It was fun.
The rest of the holiday was marred with similar off-season products and services. The wax museum was only half open, so we couldn't see the pop stars of the seventies. I didn't think it was a problem, but Sarah pouted playfully. She really wanted to see young Bowie. Meanwhile, the arcade was particularly stingy about spitting out coupons. So much so that Mike, the scraggly-haired repair guy, ended up escorting us from game to game and repairing the devices on demand. In no time, he was acting like an old drinking buddy. He joked and laughed, then, out of the blue, revealed that working at the Niagara Falls Fun Centre wasn't his career choice, that his dream was to be part of a travelling carnival. He desperately wanted to see more of the world, he explained and socialize with a greater variety of "wildlife." Mike winked at Sarah to punctuate his meaning, then began advising her on which games to play.
Sarah was partial to Skee ball and clearly had career potential in the sport, but Mike quickly pointed out that the token-to-coupon payout was not the best. In a furtive whisper, he revealed that The Storm Stopper was your best bet, provided the arcade had left it on its original factory settings. He assured us the ones here were "cool." The game had lights that ran around the outside in opposite directions and you had to hit the button at just the right spot to win. It looked impossible, but Mike was right; if you calculated tokens in versus coupons won, it was the best deal. It only took a little practice to win a minor jackpot every 5 or 6 times.
We would cheer each win as if Toronto had won the Stanley Cup. I would give a quick fist pump and a full lung "Yes!" while Sarah would jump up and down screaming, "WhoooHooo!" Of course, in the end, when we cashed in, "Mike's secret" only bumped us up from a key-chain flashlight to a "deluxe" nail beauty set. Mind you, it did come complete with clippers, scissors, a file AND a cuticle scraper. Not only that, it was all neatly packaged in a paisley-patterned pink and green plastic vinyl case. Mike was so pleased to give us our prize and to be honest, we were thrilled to win it if only to see his broad chicletted smile. It was more of a trophy than a grooming set.
That night, I made reservations for us at a fancy Chinese food restaurant - the Bamboo Garden. When we arrived, we had half-expected renovations of some sort. Instead, the place was immaculate. Gentle pools teeming with goldfish highlighted the epic black and red Ming dynasty decor. Real candles flickered on crisp white tablecloths. Again, the restaurant was virtually ours. The reservations on my part were entirely unnecessary. In fact, as soon as we entered, they knew us by name and guided us directly to our table. A live lounge piano caressed the air, its notes danced vaguely around familiar harmonies until finally, as if prompted by our presence, a song emerged immediately accompanied by the velvet voice of oriental karaoke. It was our song remastered

Credit to u/bluefishcake for writing the original SSB story and building the sandbox for us to play in.
And a big thanks to the authors and their stories that inspired to get off my ass and put my fingers to keyboard. RandomTinkerer (City Slickers and Hayseeds), Punnynfunny (Denied Operations), CompassWithHat (Top Lasgun), Rhion-618 (Just One Drop), UncleCieling(Going Native), RobotStatic (Far Away), Kazevenikov (The Cryptid Chronicle), Also to the editor # Fan Beta Readers and KLiCkonthat .
As always comments, complaints, and suggestions are welcome.
This is a fair use notice. Any and all aspects of this may be used on and within this subreddit only, with attribution. All other uses are exclusive to the author.
/*******************************/
Nanorix took the news from the advocates in stride, better than Linda. They had spent the night mutually venting at the injustice of the situation while putting away bottles of gin. Max sounded almost broken by the news while Nora the optimist in the family, firmly held to the belief that things would work out. Rufus was, well, Rufus. Intuitively compassionate, which is why he was laying in the front seat of the truck with his head on Linda's lap as they drove up to Flagstaff.
Linda was trying to sleep off her hangover, her eyes closed but not asleep. Alila had been honest that the only reason Garquile was not tied up in this was that he had her direct protection as a territorial governess. Tommy did not have that level of security and without it, he was in more danger than Robert. From what Alila had said, elements in the Interior wanted Robert dead, other interested parties wanted him alive because of his potential. The situation was so bad the Planetary Governess had stepped in and ordered the house arrest of six high-ranking members of the Interior and let it be known that if anything happened to young Mr. Pierce they would die publicly.
Neither Alila nor the planetary governess knew why the Interior wanted Robert dead, she did. After she heard that the pod found the children and what was being done to them. Her lieutenant had completely lost it, she rounded everyone operating the orphanage and lined them against the wall, and had them shot. The Interior had come in and had done what they always did, cleaned up the mess, and protected those who were important and connected. Before the interior got there one of the girls found a large data server and they made copies. There were four full copies still on Earth and one that she knew was off-world, and she had one of them. It had been too dangerous to keep at home so she had setup a remote server that would once a week send out a heartbeat signal. There were major safety measures in place to prevent access.
She had managed to go to Flagstaff for brunch about once a month to establish a pattern of behavior. Those trips with Robert and sometimes Tommy had always been good, nothing special just good days. She and Linda would have brunch and she would trigger a download to her server buried under the barn. When they had spoken with Alila, Max, and Nora, Max had commented that if anybody could stack the deck and pull inside straight now was the time to do it. She did not tell Linda why they had to come, just that she needed to come up and check on something.
She and Linda had a quiet brunch on the patio of the restaurant to allow Rufus to join them. As they ate she triggered the data transfer. The data transfer would take at least thirty minutes to complete, so they would have a nice long brunch and talk about anything but the boys, she even took a couple of selfies of the two of them to cover what she was doing. Rufus camped out under the table but never relaxed, she was not sure if he sensed her unease or something else was going on that she could not see.
They stayed and chit-chatted until Linda finished her third cup of coffee. She did not want the third cup but they needed the extra time to let the data transfer complete, and by that time Linda's hangover had started to subside. The drive home was uneventful, but traffic was horrible due to the festival of colors going on, it was the 4th of July after all.
/*******************************/
Ishani was tired and hungry but had little interest in eating. She and Ensign Tha'xur had been up half the night working to translate the new equations that Robert had created yesterday, with a new understanding of how the translation needed to work. Thoughts of Robert consumed her mind, and she had to fight the urge to look over and watch him, the singular human male. His name seemed to roll off her tongue, lingering from her dreams the previous night as she drifted off to sleep. Those dreams had been far from innocent, filled with exotic and seductive images of him, even in his baggy exercise clothing.
Returning her attention to her food, Ishani shifted uncomfortably. She would need to change her underclothes if she continued dwelling on him like this. Taking another bite of the fruit, nut, and sauce mixture, she tried to enjoy it, but it did little to distract her from watching him. He moved slowly, almost as if dancing, though she couldn't grasp the purpose behind his movements. Ensign Tha'xur's timely arrival saved her from making an obvious fool of herself by staring at a boy nearly two years her junior. It always felt like she was the only one looking.
Ensign Tha'xur sat down with a tray of food and jokingly said, "Ground control to Crewwoman Vevreix, are you awake?" Ishani returned her gaze to her food and responded, "Yes, ma'am, I am awake, just..." Before she could finish her sentence, Ensign Tha'xur interrupted, "Distracted?"
Signing without looking up and absentmindedly playing with her food, Ishani replied, "Yes, ma'am, horribly. It's just... he's just one boy. I have enough common sense to know that there is no way I should even consider... why couldn't he be old, wrinkled, and fat..."
Ensign Tha'xur completed Ishani's thought, saying, "Instead, he's young, fit, and I would even go as far as to say he's attractive in a very unmasculine way, with that wounded, sad boy aura."
Looking up, Ishani was taken aback and asked, "What do you mean 'you could call him attractive'? Are you blind? I mean, he may be a little short, but other than that, he is..." She trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Smiling and taking a bite of her burrito, Ensign Tha'xur replied, "He is desirable, and deep down, I believe you could take away all his pain and sadness... but please don't go there." Shifting into a serious tone, she continued, "I overheard Cmdr Norroe and Lt Cmdr Ashix talking about him the day we arrived. What caught my attention was Cmdr Norroe mentioning his thousand-yard stare that is measured in miles. There are significant parts of his life that we don't have access to because they've been redacted by the interior."
Ishani looked over at Robert, who appeared to have finished his morning workout and was heading towards the mobile kitchen. She murmured, "No one is ever so lost in the deepest of caves that they cannot be found by the beating of their heart. There is always hope and always a way out."
Ensign Tha'xur wiped her face clean of the red sauce that had dripped from her burrito and commented, "You, Crewwoman, are an optimist."
"With all due respect, ma'am, have you looked?" Ishani responded quizzically.
With a wry smile En. Tha'xur replied smoothly "I am technically a married woman and my husband and kho wives are going to be here in three days. I am hoping that my leave request will be honored, we were supposed to go to Tel Aviv for 14 days." Frowning slightly with the last statement.
Ishani gave an understanding smile "Well, that explains why you are not interested. You know, if you want to get the time off then ask for help. What is the worst he can do to say no?"
En. Tha'xur almost laughed at that, "So what should I do ask him over here for you to ogle him and for me to get a chance to go on leave, I do not think he would like that, being that he is here under guard."
Ishani took another bite of her food, ‘alright girl put up or shut up’ she thought to herself, before standing. "Ma'am if you never ask for help you will never get any." This is not a good idea, turning to find Robert who was looking for an open table to eat at. "Robert, can you join us over here, please?" Blessed Nest mother, that sounded so bad she inwardly cringed.
/************************/
Robert had gotten his food-laden tray and was looking for an empty place to sit. It felt a little weird not having a personal shadow always with him. The petty officers had told him last night that he would be given some space and an opportunity to interact with the people here. "Go out, mingle, talk to people, that's a winning idea," he thought sarcastically. Yup, everything was normal again. Alone in a room full of people and completely clueless about how to do the most basic of things, like talking to anybody.
Now, the people he could talk to were a problem. Being the only male and the only human, he received looks. The looks could be categorized into three groups: lust, curiosity, and pity. Dealing with lust was easy; he just chose not to care, and thankfully, they were discreet about it for now. Pity, on the other hand, infuriated him because most of the time, it was fake. Whenever someone expressed their sympathy for all the things he had been through, he wanted to scream. At best, it was a polite social convention, and at worst, it was a selfish and internalized burden of guilt that had nothing to do with him.
Just as he spotted an empty table at the far end, somebody called out his name. "Can you join us over here, please?" Shit, it was Ishani, the one person in the whole damned place who had a very unsettling effect on him. She was the only one here who scared the shit out of him. Taking a breath to collect himself, he acknowledged her with a nod and proceeded to join her and the Ensign at their table.
He noticed that when he acknowledged her, she just beamed and got all bubbly. That was the best word for it. Her glowing tattoos seemed to brighten for just a moment before she sat down, leaving him to wonder what those tattoos looked like on the rest of her body. He made it to the table and sat down on autopilot while his mind indulged in a little fantastical daydream, leaving him noticeably flushed and uncomfortable in ways that only men could be.
Setting his tray and bottle of maple syrup down on the table and taking a seat, Robert tried to say thank you, but neither Ishani nor the Ensign had their translators running.
En. Tha'xur noticed him stop trying to use hand speak and realized that they had just messed up a little. "I am sorry, that was rude of us," she said as she tried to get her translation app up and running. Meanwhile, Ishani was no help; she was head down in her food, blushing and trying very hard not to be noticed. "There, we're set."
Robert was relieved when En. Tha'xur got her translation app running, so he wouldn't have to stare at Ishani across the round table from him. He returned his attention to En. Tha'xur. "I was trying to say thank you for asking me to join you, and it's okay. You at least figured it out."
Ishani looked up from her half-eaten food when En. Tha'xur's translator started speaking. Fuck, she thought, this is so embarrassing. Inviting a boy to come over and eat with you only to ignore him when he gets here. Idiot. Turning to face him, her brain failed as she smiled stupidly and took another bite. "Hungry?"
En. Tha'xur couldn't help but cringe. The situation unfolding before she seemed straight out of a cliché "coming of age" story, where a girl meets a boy and the universe seems to pause just for them. It reminded her of the sentimental videos her older brother and his friends would tear up over. Poor Ishani, the other girls around her would roast her mercilessly, yet she remained oblivious to the fact that she was being watched. En. Tha'xur couldn't decide if it was cute or tragic. Determined to intervene and save Ishani from herself, she spoke up, "Robert, the reason Crewwoman Vevreix invited you over is that I need your help."
"Hungry?" Robert was caught off guard by Ishani's question. Did she even understand what she was doing? He found her confusing, and he just wanted to finish his meal quickly and GTFO. En. Tha'xur was speaking, but he had missed what she said. He decided to play dumb and replied, "OK."
En. Tha'xur thought to herself, "This is good." She then explained, "Well, my husband and my three kho wives are going to be arriving on Earth in three days. I had scheduled a 14-day leave, but then I received an emergency assignment here, and I don't know if they will honor my leave request."
Robert had managed to pay enough attention to understand that she needed a favor. He had two basic choices: give a hard no and explain that the advocates wouldn't allow him to help until they gave the go-ahead, or try to answer her questions. His best option was to listen and see if he could offer some hints. "I am quite restricted by what my advocates have told me to do, but I will try to point you in the right direction."
Finally, Ishani managed to gather her thoughts and interjected, "See, I told you, all you need to do is ask."
En. Tha'xur rolled her eyes, silently expressing her frustration towards Ishani. She replied, "Thank you, can you help?"
Talking with his mouth full wasn't polite and attempting to gesture while eating proved to be a challenge. Robert sighed as he reluctantly set down his fork, his stomach growling in protest. "Yes, I will genuinely help you. And if you're wondering why," Robert paused, trying to understand his willingness to assist, "it's because you asked. Now, the big question is, do you even know what you want to ask?"
Ishani eagerly jumped in, unknowingly giving En. Tha'xur some time to formulate a proper question to ask. "Okay, if I can ask one too, please?"
Robert held up one finger as he obeyed the demands of his stomach and shoved a load of runny fried eggs and hash browns in his mouth. "Sure, since you saved me from eating alone." Robert swallowed hard after he finished speaking, realizing he had just unintentionally flirted with her. Thinking inwardly, "Shut up, dumb ass. You are going to get yourself in trouble."
Ishani sputtered like Joe Pesci for just a couple of seconds before getting to her real question. "Ok, ok, ok, ok." Pointing to the work area where the Charger was, she asked, "Why is the car so important? Why did you build it?"
Robert shoveled another load of eggs and hash browns into his mouth. "Why would a human boy on Earth, living in North America, want to build a fast car and one that could fly?" Pausing to inhale the bite of his eggs and hash browns, he continued, "Because it was fun, and it would have been cool to have a hotrod and be the only one to fly. Well, that would be a show-off, a little, and to have a shitload of fun flying around in it."
En. Tha'xur cluelessly responded, "What is a 'hotrod,' and why would a flying car be 'cool'? I guess that means good?"
Robert had to roll his head back before responding, to the idea of attempting to explain custom car and motorcycle cultures. "Humans like to personalize cars and other things as expressions of their personalities and rolling pieces of art in some cases. For a human boy to be able to build a car and go fast is a dream. Hotrods are the result of those builds."
Taking another break to move the French toast in front of him and pour on the maple syrup, he continued, "Back to the first part of your question, 'Why is it important?' Other than a personal attachment to the memories connected to it... it is not, in the grand scheme of things, it was a mistake. A very valuable mistake, it disproved one of my approaches to a bigger challenge."
En. Tha'xur and Crewwoman Vevreix just looked at each other and mouthed the same words, "It was a fucking mistake!!"
Robert tried to hide his smug satisfaction. Nobody ever considered just how much of his work was critical and applied to his big challenge. Ishani looked at Robert as he dug into his French toast. "If that was a mistake, what is the prize?" Robert just smiled and shrugged in response to the question. En. Tha'xur sat dejected, "Well, that did answer one of the big questions. The car is a stepping stone to the bigger thing."
Watching the Ensign sit dejected and look a little lost made Robert feel like a little shit. Flipping the bird to the bureaucratic machine that was the Imperium always felt like a "fuck yes," but trolling a person was different. She had asked him for help, and he had used it to be petty and spiteful. "You don't need to ask right now, and if you loan me your data slate, I will give you a couple of hints," he said, reaching out for the device.
En. Tha'xur handed over the data slate wordlessly. Robert opened a new document and wrote:
"If you have 'The Right Stuff,' you can connect the dots."
"Space-Time Gravity is not the same as Gravity Space-Time."
When he finished, he handed the data slate back to the ensign and returned to his food. En. Tha'xur picked up the data slate, read the hints, and found the first line to be of no use other than some devotional wisdom that would be preached in a temple. However, the second line held interesting possibilities. Grabbing the data slate, Ishani quickly scanned the text and handed it back to En. Tha'xur. "Thank you, I think we can work with this," she said. Turning to En. Tha'xur, she added, "Ma'am, I think we need to work in conference room 2 today. It has the other digital whiteboard, and I think we need the space."
En. Tha'xur picked up the data slate and looked right at Robert. "I don't get the first one. The second one could be applied in a dozen or more places."
Finishing his first piece of French toast, Robert tried to remember the order of the equations to point her in the right direction. "Show me my work from last night, and I will show you the one to work against. Don't try to finish it, just try to understand it."
En. Tha'xur handed the translated copy of Robert's work back to him, and he looked at it with a mixture of fascination and difficulty. It was strange to see his work presented so neatly, but it was also challenging to read. He had to mentally retranslate it to the original version he had written. Working through the problem brought his headache back in full force, making the surroundings too bright and diminishing his appetite. Robert tried to hide his discomfort, squinting his eyes and taking deep breaths.
Concerned, Ishani noticed his strained expression and asked, "Are you alright? You don't look well."
With a weak smile, Robert replied, "I shouldn't have done that. I usually take a couple of days off after my little flying trips. It's like working out too hard and feeling extremely sore the next day, then trying to work out again. Not fun."
En. Tha'xur felt uneasy knowing that Robert was enduring pain to help her. She thought of her father and how he would be disappointed in her. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor?" she asked, genuinely concerned.
"I'll be fine, I just need some sleep," Robert reassured them, pushing his plate of food away. "If either of you wants to finish this, go for it. At the very least, don't waste the bacon."
Ishani reached for the plate and admitted, "I've heard about bacon, but I'm a little afraid to try new foods. I don't want to be disappointed."
En. Tha'xur reached for a piece of bacon, saying, "I love bacon. I'll even taste-test it to make sure it's okay." She smiled at Ishani and took a bite.
Robert observed as En. Tha'xur's eyes widened in shock. Oops, he remembered that he had coated the bacon in maple syrup. However, she didn't spit it out, which was a good sign. His mom loved crispy bacon dipped in maple syrup. Sometimes, she would devour an entire package of bacon if there was maple syrup in the house, and then she would try to conceal the fact that a pound of bacon had disappeared. She would even do her dishes, a chore that was usually Robert's.
En. Tha'xur bit into the bacon, expecting a salty taste but experiencing the combination of sweet and salty. The flavor was incredible. She paused to savor the taste before chewing again. "You have to try this!" she exclaimed.
Ishani, with anticipation in her eyes, sniffed the remaining piece of bacon. "Here goes nothing." She cherished this moment, as it was the closest she had come to tasting her nest mother's nectar. Grabbing the plate, she declared, "I'm finishing this!" and devoured the last piece of French toast without bothering with utensils.
Despite his throbbing headache, Robert couldn't help but smile as he rose from the table. "Enjoy. I need some sleep."
/*******************************/
Tommy had to roll his eyes at Valenlina's latest attempt to "improve" his wardrobe with a purple satin shirt with a matching sea green scarf. No matter how many times Valenlina tried to have Tommy dress like a proper male, Tommy always simply said no. Early on in the dating, Valenlina had gotten so frustrated that she also broke up with him, not that she ever told him. Her father and kho mother Tearhart had stepped in and explained that she could not make a human be like a Shil. The Imperium still tried, and the Humans resisted more. There were several semi-celebrities on the data-net that advised Shil’vai women on dating human males and females. The most common rule for dating a human male is not to try and change them to be acceptable in your circle because they will resent you for it. You have attracted a human male for a reason, embrace it.
Their walk through downtown Prescott was a moment the Tommy did not have to think about the meeting tomorrow. Early this morning he and his mother had gotten almost an hour of one on one time with Advocate Roskin and she was able to explain in greater detail what was expected of him tomorrow and how things could go right or wrong. Withholding information was one of the worse things he could do. After the meeting, Valenlina noticed the additional stress in Tommy. It was so bad that physical affection had no effect. There was only one thing other than sex that could distraction, window shopping.
Their window shopping trip started as a serious attempt to make him presentable in Shil’vati society, ow her attempts to help him look more presentable were just something they did to have fun. In many ways, it was closer to foreplay now, as Tommy now attempts to have Valenlina dress like a human girl. Tommy did have one big win, a pair of 4-inch-high heels, he had said they improved the view coming and going. Her big win last year was a shirt and tie set for his tailored charcoal suit, he was finally willing to wear formal attire with a splash color.
Valenlina could see her best effort to pull Tommy out of what his mother called a 'funk' were not working. He was still not willing to talk to her about it, she could understand that he was pissed but his silence bothered her. While he had not pushed her away, he still felt distant. Last year's fireworks had been the warmup act for what had followed. She could never look at Mr. Scott's old Ford pickup without blushing just a little bit.
Tommy smiled with a wicked little smile, "Thinking dirty thoughts again I see." he said holding up a pair of women's cowboy boots in hot pink.
Playfully Valenlina put on her pouty face, "What would you wear with them?"
Taking his turn to think dirty thoughts and hoping to see her turn dark blue Tommy put on his most innocent face, "First this is a girl's color, and they would be for you, but what would I wear if you wanted me to try them on? Nothing?" Emphasizing the last word.
With a facade of indignation, "Why Mr. Sandoval, are you implying that the Governess's daughter would be involved in anything so uncouth as to make a respectable male present himself for inspection with only what the Goddess endowed him with?"
Tommy returned the boots to the display and stepped forward to steal a kiss."My Dear Miss Seskie, you know dammed well that you would take full advantage of that situation."
Returning the kiss, Valenlina smiled. "Yes, Mr. Sandoval I would." She bent down to whisper into his ear. "I think we both need to cool off or we will never make it to the fireworks show."
Tommy took her by the hand." Looks like I'll have to settle for mint chocolate chip ice cream."
Valenlina put on a hurt expression. "You are so cruel."
They left the window shopping and continued walking back to the courthouse square. The roads around the court were closed for three days for Frontier Days and the Festive of Colors. This opened the court square up for a giant art show and sales venue. This was the change for local artisans to show off their wares in the hopes of making one or selling to a noble patron and then getting follow-up commission work. The north side of the courthouse was dedicated to custom motorcycles and the east side was for classic custom cars. The west side, known as "Whiskey Row" is where the food vendors and their destination Jacksons Ice Cream was set up right in front of the Palace Restaurant and Saloon.
Turning the corner to walk up Whiskey Row Tommy could not help but feel he was being watched. Tommy had to keep Valenlina from heading off to go look at this or that. He had to remind her, that ice cream was first or he would have to give her a spanking. Valenlina would always retort with, "Promises, promises".
When they were getting their ice cream Valenlina nudged Tommy and told him to look across the street. Standing in front of a face painting booth was a short portly balding human male with a puggy round face. He wearing a well-made black suit, the only thing missing from the 1930s gangster getup was a fedora hat.
Taking their ice cream and heading off to a wood sculptor's booth Tommy kicked himself mentally for not seeing him earlier, he was the only person wearing a business suit. He should have stood out like a sore thumb, but he just seemed to blend in. The booth was impressive, boasting several pieces commissioned by various members of the nobility. Tommy ate his ice cream and kept an eye on the gangster while Valenlina inspected the various pieces and got sticker shock.
Tommy tried to get Valenlina's attention when the gangster entered the booth and proceeded to the cane rack. By the time Valenlina noticed, the gangster was already paying for the cane he had selected.
When the gangster finished his transaction, he turned to Tommy and Valenlina." Well if it isn't the young man of the hour, Thomas Sandoval. It's a pleasure to meet you. As well as you, Miss Seskie."
Flustered, Tommy stuttered out, "Who the fuck are you? Have you been watching me?"
The man smiled, but it felt unnerving, maybe a little malicious, too., "My name is Mr. Rojo and I watch everybody. It's my calling, but I will admit that you and your brother have piqued my interest. I go through life watching the world go by, I enjoy the shifting mosaic of peoples' lives, and how they interconnect. For example, the car that you and your brother build was a 69 or 70 I could not tell with what is out on the news media.”
Tommy waited to tell this to go pound sand, but he need to talk and tell Mr. Rojo what even he needed, Tommy forgot Valenlina was listening as he spoke.” It is a 69, why is that important?”
The gangster slowly dropped part of his smile as he replied, ”It is not important, it is merely a curiosity just like why not use the Confederate battle flag and why the name Valkirey?”
Eagerly Tommy responded, “The Betsy Ross over the Stars and Bars, because it is more appropriate at this time and the Shil’vati Imperium has no idea what it means, instead of erasing human history maybe the Shil’vati could try learning from it.” almost quoting Sean Connery about goose stopping morons and burning books. “ Now for Valkire over General Lee, that is easy, Valkire’s are sexy and cool. and General Lee would get us in trouble, just like the Stars and Bars.”
The gangster's smile was completely gone, and his expression and tone had changed to serious but neutral almost professorial, “But I have a simple question for you, and I'd greatly appreciate it if you would give me an honest answer, Thomas what is gravity?"
Thomas could not stop himself and replied without hesitation. "Gravity is a higher dimensional construct. When projected from a higher dimension it appears to be a force, but to use it as a dimensional construct the space-time gravity interpretation must be inverted to be the first-dimensional construct so that space-time gravity becomes gravitational space-time with an indeterminate number of dimensional constructs between gravity and space."
The gangster looked surprised, while Valenlina looked utterly confused. "Is that your brother Robert's words or yours?"
Thomas hesitated only slightly before he replied. "Mostly Robert's, I can't dream up the shit he does but once he explains it, I can see it. He uses me as a sounding board." Tommy suddenly realized what he was saying. "Who the fuck are you?"
The gangster took Tommy's hand to shake it. "Mr. Sandoval, I told you I am a watcher and now I get to watch you. Have a glorious life Mr. Sandoval" nodding to Valenlina, "and you too, Miss Seskie."
Tommy watched as the gangster walked out of the booth noting that nobody noticed his passing.
Valenlina had been too engrossed in Mr. Rojo and Tommy's conversation to say or do anything, but now that Mr. Rojo was no longer there she angrily turned to face Tommy."Thomas, you have some explaining to do!"
Tommy would not realize until much later, that the gangster had placed the cane in his has as he left.
/*******************************/
First:
Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch1 : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
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Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch7 : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Next:
Chapter 8
Extra:
Janissary: The Son Of War : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Janissary: Vision from Zy'Verila : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)

Does anyone know how to get out of a Starbucks contract?
I just started my new job and I already want to quit. I REALLY want to quit. Because this shit isn’t normal. I mean, is it? Do you guys have experience with this type of shit, or is it a normal thing when moving to the city? I’m a small-town girl so I’m not used to this. We didn’t even have a Starbucks. Just a diner that had been broken into multiple times over the years.
Do you know the bad feeling you get when something bad is going to happen, but you ignore it for the sake of staying sane? .Yeah.
It was one of those situations.
But I needed cash. I needed a job. College in the city is expensive, especially in my mid-twenties. Uber Eats every night and various subscriptions, such as Netflix and Spotify—as well as basic living needs required cash. So, naturally, I looked for part-time jobs I could use to fill up my weekend and nights. When it came to job hunting, I was fairly lazy. So, the Starbucks job kinda came out of nowhere.
I wasn’t even looking for it. I was applying for a job in the local music store when it caught my eye. Someone to work late evenings and nights on weekdays and Saturdays. The job description didn’t say much, just basic pay details and a full paragraph dedicated to talking about “The Starbucks Family”. Skim reading it, I skipped to the APPLY NOW button and sent in my resume via email. Two hours.
It had taken two hours to get an email back offering a video interview the next day—and a guaranteed job if I didn’t screw it up. The video interview went well to my surprise. The woman who conducted it acted more like a friend, asking me what my favorite movies and TV shows were, and then going into detail about her own.
It didn’t even feel like an interview. More like a chat. Which was exactly what the email said it was going to be. The interviewer was my mom’s age, a total mom-like persona. She offered me iced tea before laughing and realizing we were on a video call. Her cat popped up halfway through her introducing several staff members by name. A large tabby whom she picked up and hugged to her chest. I wasn’t sure what to do except repeatedly say, “Aww.” and force an even bigger smile.
The woman who for some reason did not introduce herself finished the interview with a more formal and thorough talk-through of rules and regulations. Which went in one ear and out the other. I think I was too excited about the job as a whole. There’s something almost mythical about working at Starbucks. I’ve seen barista TikTok complaining about customer service and harping about in the back rooms. It looked fun. Plus, free drinks? I figured working at the famous coffee chain would at least have benefits and freebies.
The woman spoke to me for almost two hours about certain drinks, telling me I would be trained up, and then going on to explain the dos and don’ts in a working environment. It was kind of patronizing, but I figured she had to be to remain professional. I tuned out when she started talking about a certain “feud” they had with another store down the road. The woman didn’t go into detail, but her expression did darken significantly when she leaned closer to her screen and repeated the phrase, “Do you understand me?” I had to backtrack and try and go over what she had been saying, but I had found myself mesmerized by the gilded sword in the background. It hung from the back wall in all of its glory, and I was having a hard time trying to figure out why exactly a Starbucks manager had a sword hanging from her wall.
“Sim?” Inclining her head, the manager cleared her throat. “Did you hear me?”
I did. Sort of. Under no circumstances must I visit or go near 2nd Street Starbucks. If I did there would be dire consequences and I would face losing my job, or worse.
I wasn’t sure what “or worse” was, but from the way her expression twisted from funny-cat-lady to a potential employer, I didn’t want to ask.
Yikes.
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “I can’t go near the 2nd Street store.” I almost choked on a glass of water I had been slowly sipping throughout the interview. I had been sweating most of the day, dying in the intense June heat. It was a lot cooler in the evening in the city, but I was used to draining at least ten glasses a day. “Is that real?” I couldn’t help asking, pointing to the sword behind her.
I know you are supposed to maintain a certain professional persona and façade during professional work interviews with potential managers. However, I really wanted to know if that ancient thing was real, it was driving me crazy. Because questions were arising in my head: How did she get it? Was it hers? Was it for some kind of aesthetic and feng-shui, or was there more to it? From the look on the interviewer’s face, she seemed startled.
Whipping her head around, her strict grey ponytail hitting the screen, she nodded before turning back to me, her gaze flicking down to what I presumed was a script she was reading off—or maybe she was skimming through my printed-out resume. I wanted to ask her more about the elephant in the room, but she seemed satisfied with answering my question with a nod. She asked me more questions, mostly about my work ethic and if I enjoyed working in a team and independently, if I had any special requirements, and oddly—if I had ever held a firearm. Now, that caused alarm bells. Along with the gilded sword dangling from this forty-something-year-old’s lounge wall, I was definitely starting to question the exact nature of what I would be doing at this job. Serving coffee was an obvious one, though I was pretty sure Starbucks barista's didn’t require military-style training.
When I didn’t know what to say, she seemed to back-pedal. “Oh, it’s in case of a robbery.” She said. But her expression stayed stoic. Speaking in the tone of being joking, but not being joking. “It is rare. However, it is a precaution we must take.” Choosing her words carefully, the interviewer steepled her hands in front of her face, leaning her chin on her fingers. “Our employees are given basic fire-arm training in the instance that one day we may face a difficult situation. Now, I am not saying it is inevitable, but due to certain behavior throughout the years, it is, of course, better to be safe than sorry.”
“Oh.” I tried to smile. “No, I haven’t,” I paused, hoping my lack of ability to hold a gun wouldn’t screw up my chances. “But I can learn?”
I said it like a question because it was a question. I was questioning myself why exactly I would take up my time learning to shoot a gun I most likely never would need. To my surprise though, the woman’s smile brightened and she looked down at whatever she was writing.
“Of course,” she said. “Sim, I am very happy to hear that. We love employees who do their best to learn and thrive in our working environment,” she paused and typed something on her laptop before her gaze found mine. “I’ll put you down for lessons on Friday mornings. How does that sound?” Before I could answer her—because I was starting to seriously question why she was so obsessed with training me to use a goddamn gun—she was nodding to herself. “I will put Jude in charge of you. I think he is working on Friday, so your induction and welcome can be completed in the morning…”
She trailed off into her own murmured conversation to herself before clearing her throat. I jumped. I didn’t mean to jump, but her whole presence was putting me on edge. The lady had been nicer on the phone, and earlier on in the interview when she was grilling me on which Frozen character was my favorite.
“Okay!” The interviewer gathered up her paperwork, beaming at me through the camera. “Can you start tomorrow? Let’s say…” her eyebrows furrowed together. “5:30? I will not be there for the first hour due to certain obligations,” she traced her lip with the tip of her index. “However, I have four employees working the front desk, I’m sure they will give you a warm welcome.” I noticed something twitch on her lips. It was almost like she was trying to stop herself from laughing—which was childish from a standpoint where I was the younger one, while she was the senior. She was supposed to be setting some kind of standard, and yet for some reason was more inclined in teasing me about workplace friendships, and apparently how “close” my colleagues were. I wasn’t stupid, I knew what friendship was like in the workplace. It’s not “real” because you’re all there to do a job, not making lifelong friendships.
“I’m looking forward to meeting them,” I said when she snorted out a laugh that twisted up my gut.
"Absolutely," she responded. "The team is very close, so don't take it personally if they're initially cautious. I'm confident that you'll all become great friends! Kai is a kind-hearted sweetheart, while Ana may seem standoffish initially, but she'll warm up to you once you get to know her. Jude, on the other hand, will be your guide during the orientation, so it's best to stay close to him. In fact, it's recommended to shadow him during your first few hours since he's our top performer! Frankly, Sim, I can hardly wait for you to meet them! They're a great group!" This woman seemed to suddenly discover the use of expletives, or maybe she had noticed I visibly wanted to crawl into the ground. The way she was describing the other employees, I was expecting cartoon characters when I walked through the door.
“Right,” I said. I was starting to regret applying. “I’ll be there.”
She ended the call with a bright smile, and her stupid cat walking on the keyboard, causing her to squeak out in horror. I shut my laptop, my cheeks burning. Well, that went…? Well? Could I really say it went well when the manager had spent the last five minutes implying my work colleagues were going to hate me? Fuck.
I didn’t want to go. I trashed my application and deleted her number from my phone. But the morning after, however, I came to the quick realization through precious morning caffeine, that I needed cash. So, no matter how much I didn’t want to go—I had to. So, I headed to classes and tried not to think about it. It was 5:34 when I stepped into the familiar glow of the famous store—not before being stopped in the middle of a crowed by a girl wearing bright pink ray-bans and a scowl. “Do you work there?” she turned and pointed to the store.
I shrugged. “I guess.”
She scoffed, slipping off her ray-bans and fixing me with a bitchy smile. “Your funeral.”
Normally, in situations when strangers say odd things to me on the street, I just laugh it off. But this? This seemed personal.
“What?”
The girl didn’t say anything before turning and walking or rather running away.
Well, that was weird.
After that encounter, I was weighing the positives and negatives of taking up the job. The positives would be cash and something to occupy my mind away from classes, and the negatives were being stuck with insufferable colleagues and a manager who was the embodiment of unprofessional. The store was pretty empty when I stepped through automatic doors, reveling in the cooling fan blasting icy cold air in my face. A dark-haired college girl had her back to me, cleaning tables. But I noticed her stiffening up when I took a step forward. She straightened up like a cat going into territorial mode, before relaxing and holding a two-fingered hand up.
The store was empty so I had no idea who she was signaling to. It wasn’t a greeting to me—I had no idea what it was. I was halfway to the counter before a guy popped up out of nowhere, mid-way through drying a cup with a washrag. His hair was the first thing I noticed. Bright red.
In contrast to his pasty skin, this guy would definitely stand out in a crowd. He was my age or maybe a little older, mid twenties, with a wide smile and not much of anything else, kitted in a short-sleeved shirt, and a Starbucks apron over the top.
I expected quirky cartoon-like weirdos and I got an average Joe. I wasn’t complaining.
Initially, I thought this guy was just another jock-like college guy. But looking closer, the friendliness in his eyes wasn’t sincere, and his smile was strained. Keeping up a professional attitude, he regarded me with a smile, leaning across the counter. But his eyes kept flicking to the door in quick succession like he was waiting for a certain someone to come in. “You.” He pointed at me, trailing his finger to the door, swiping hair from his face with his hand. The guy was bouncing on the heels of his toes, I noticed. He couldn’t stand still, like a hyperactive child. “You’re Sim, The newbie I’m supposed to be training.”
I nodded, offering a nervous wave.
“Jude.” He introduced himself, though clearly distracted, his gaze flicking to and from the door. His facade was friendly enough, but very fake. It was the same smile I presumed he flashed at customers who complimented his looks. “Hey, Sim.”
Instead of holding out his hand for me to shake, he folded his arms across his chest. Jude cocked his head, drinking me in before his lips broke out into a beam.
"Shall we get started?"
Jude started the tour, showing me the store itself, then the back, the storage room, the staff room, and bizarrely, a wooden door which he referred to as, “The Drink”. I had no idea what that meant, but I made a mental note to steer away from it.
The backrooms of the store turned into a labyrinth. The place was covered in mold, peeling paint on the doors and old rugged floor tiles. Jude spoke way too fast like he was intentionally trying to confuse me. By the time I was struggling with my apron, he was turning on his heels with a brow raised. “Your hair is too long so you need to tie it up. You can shadow me this evening but don’t get in my way. We have two twenty-minute breaks and during them, we are contractually obligated to go down to the Second Street store and throw eggs at their windows—ooh, and the girl you just met who didn’t say a word? That’s Ana. You will get used to her.” His smile reached a level of fake I didn’t think was possible. “Why don’t you follow me?”
“What?” I managed to hiss out when Jude was leading me down a long, winding corridor that dipped into various rooms, out-of-order elevators, and the creepiest set of stairs I had ever seen leading into the pitch dark. I was still trying to register his words.
Jude twisted around with a frown. “What’s up?” He nodded at a passing blonde girl who shot me a smile, and hive-fived Jude before disappearing through a door.
“You throw eggs at the store down the road?”
The guy’s lip twitched into the start of a smile. He turned around, quickening his pace. “Did I say that? Obviously, I was joking.”
I stumbled after him, knocking into a dark-haired younger guy carrying a tray of cupcakes. He and Jude seemed to exchange words without speaking before Jude gestured to the stranger. Somehow, I figured out their telepathic conversation through eye movements and strained smiles, they weren’t talking about me. “That’s Kai,” Jude said, pushing through the doors back to the main storefront. He took a customer’s order, retaining that stupid smile. “If you need any help with making those annoying TikTok drinks that take a millennia to make and have probably broken several Geneva convention rules?” He playfully knocked into me while preparing a drink, his hands knowing where everything was, preparing and serving a latte in a matter of minutes, “Kai is your guy! He runs our social media page and is practically a connoisseur on the next big trend. He'll deal with zoomers."
I was slowly starting to ease my way into this job, and my colleagues seemed pretty cool. Jude actually helped me all the way through the evening, introducing his home life and how he grew up as he cleaned tables and conversed with the others—always throwing me into their chatting so I didn’t get left out. I ended up sorting through cookies and making price labels with Aurora, the perky blonde who high-fived Jude earlier. She spoke to me like we had been best friends for years, and that part of her charm made me instantly adore her. She was tiny for her age, but a menace when it came to her sharp tongue and language. I didn’t think a tiny thing like her could swear like a goddamn sailor, but it was cute. Jude and Aurora had a sibling-type thing going on, though every time I caught Kai’s eye, he was smirking. It seemed everyone knew they had a thing except them.
I was actually having fun with the others, bobbing my head to the radio while serving a group of kids, when Jude, who was next to me, seemed to go rigid all of a sudden. His laughing smile carved into something else. I had never seen an expression change so fast.
But he wasn’t the only one. Aurora, cleaning tables and giggling at Jude’s joke, straightened up, her eyes flashing to the door. Kai’s head snapped up from where he had been grinding coffee. Following their gaze, I found myself face-to-face with the manager who interviewed me. But unlike the night before, she was not smiling. The woman dropped her bag at the door before marching towards the counter. Jude leaned over; his expression apprehensive.
“Well?”
His eyes as well as his tone had darkened significantly. All of my colleagues had taken off these masks, these facades of joking smiles and bright eyes, and now I was seeing a glimmer of what they were hiding. What Jude had been looking for all evening, sneaking glances at the door. I watched his gaze follow the manager as she paced back and forth, chewing her nails. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” She finally said, lifting her head. Her lips were twisted. “But.” She said, spitting each word, as she rounded the counter, helping herself to coffee. “You’re going to pay a visit to them right now, and…and sort this out once and for all.” Her voice resembled that of a mother talking to her children. She was assertive to them, her eyes piercing. Do you understand me?” The woman nodded at Jude. “You can go.” Her eyes found mine. “Take the new girl, she needs to be inducted.” Finally, she turned to Ana, who was standing in the corner silently. “You are too. I need brains, and Jude is just brawn. Keep him on his toes, young lady."
With a hint of sarcasm in his tone, Jude uttered a brief "Thanks," and then proceeded to take a coffee cup and a Sharpie. Swiftly, he scrawled some words on the side of the cup, before placing it inside a bag and plonking it in front of me. As Jude reached for his coat at the back, he put it on over his green Starbucks apron, creating a striking contrast with his denim blue sherpa. With his mop of red curls, this guy was in no way going to be as incognito as he thought. "We'll manage the conversation,” he said hurriedly, visibly excited. Jude seemed to lead the others in their expressions, his confidence and wit causing them to brighten up, adapting wide smiles. He shoved his hands in his pockets, “All you gotta do is hand them this, okay?”
“Is that a good…” Kai drifted off on whatever he was about to say, ducking his head when Jude shot him a glare.
“I think it’s a perfect idea!” The manager beamed at me. “What a way to fully bring you into our family!”
I took the coffee cup (the empty coffee cup) hesitantly. “What is it?”
“It’s a gift!” Jude said, moving towards the door in long strides. It was all too noticeable that this guy was practically vibrating with an energy I had never known. It was almost manic. “I want to let them know we appreciate them! Y’know! Rival to rival.”
Kai stepped in front of him on the way out.
“Be careful,” he said in a low hum. Aurora joined him, but she wasn’t speaking, her left-hand tugging at the waistband of her jeans. “Keep your head down when you go in because they’ll be expecting you—and they’ll be expecting a retaliation.”
“Relaaaaax, it’s Cora! We used to date!” he cocked his head. "I think."
“I mean it. "
Jude’s gaze found mine for a moment before his smile grew. “Well, we have enough eggs don’t we?” He grabbed my arm, pulling me along. Ana was already gone. I could see her figure already slinking down the street, bleeding into the shadow.
When the two of us hit the cool night air and Jude quickened his pace into a power-walk, his eyes set forwards, jaw set, I figured I should ask what his deal was. If this guy was serious about vandalizing a rival Starbucks, and not just that, urged by his manager, then I had to say something.
The thought of ending up in jail being petty over a rival store made me feel nauseous.
“So, what is this about?” I asked, catapulting myself into a half-run to keep up with him. The guy had abnormally long legs, so he was halfway across the sidewalk while I was barely two steps in front. “Aren’t you taking this a little too seriously?”
Jude didn’t reply, instead remarking on the sky being filled with stars.
“Hey, Ana!” He shouted. “Wait up!”
Second Street Starbucks was like walking into a palace. I could tell why these guys were rivals. The place was a three-floored beast, a glass building made up of a Starbucks downstairs, a library, and a private apartment. I found myself mesmerized by the twinkling lights on the door, the mini water fountain through large windows showing an even bigger storefront with rich-looking wooden tables and reclining chairs. The store was closing. When we stepped in front of the door, there was a sign which clearly said CLOSED on the front.
Still, though, Ana pushed her way through it, followed by Jude, pulling me along with him. Two employees were working, a guy with short blondish hair mopping the floors, and a girl standing at the counter, going through the register. The moment we stepped inside, the guy cleaning up stopped mopping from side to side, his fingers visibly tightening around the mop handle. “Hey there!”
With one of his best fake smiles, Jude raised his arms in surrender. “We’re from the Starbucks down the road. We come in peace, don’t worry!” He gestured to me.
“Can we talk to your manager?”
He took a step, his lip twitching, eyes glinting, which caused a stir in the air. The girl at the counter stopped flicking through a wad of cash in her hand and delicately put it down, and the guy turned to face us with wary eyes.
As Jude took another stride forward, his movements resembled a dance, and I noticed he was having fun teasing them. His eyes sparkled with a childlike glee that was unexpected for a person in his twenties. "Would you like to try our latest coffee recipe? It's like sipping on liquid sunshine." He nonchalantly brushed his jeans, and I half-expected him to pull out an egg. “But…” Jude took another step, and Ana situated herself behind the blonde boy, her expression blank. “You’ve already tasted it, haven’t you?”
The girl behind the counter finally stopped counting cash, delicately placing a wad back inside the register before leaning forward, an amused smirk curving on her lips. “Jude.” Her voice was a low murmur. “I didn’t think I would see you here so soon.”
“Cora.” Jude’s lips quirked. “Trust me, I don’t want to be. But hey, it's the boss's orders.”
She inclined her head, her eyes drinking all of him in. The girl rested her fist on her chin. She was surveying him like a piece of meat. “And you obey her?”
His grin widened, and I saw his hand once again brush the front of his apron. “Like a dog.”
“You know her?” I hissed out, grasping hold of the coffee cup in my hand.
“Cora?” Jude turned to me. “Oh yeah, we used to be the Romeo and Juliet of coffee shop rivalry — back when we were both newbies, and our store kidnapped me as a last resort. To keep the peace, I stayed.” He shrugged. “That’s what I’m told, anyway.”
Starbucks lore was getting dark.
These guys had to be joking around.
I took a step back, eager to head towards the door and be as far away as possible from what I was pretty sure was going to be a lot of eggs, and several arrests. “You worked here?” I couldn’t believe my mouth was still moving and forming words as I took slow steps back. Before Jude caught my arm.
“Apparently.” He said, dragging me back by his side. “Why don’t you give ‘em’ their gift?”
Fuck.
Unwrapping the bag and pulling out the cup, I nodded and took slow strides toward the counter, placing it down in front of her.
Cora frowned, before picking it up, her gaze going to the side.
“Go fuck yourself 2nd street bloodsuckers.” She read out loud, her brow raising into her hairline.
Shit.
“I should probably go.” I managed to say, backing away. “I don’t think is the job for me—”
The latter half of my words exploded in my head when something slammed into my ears, a physical force sending me to my knees. Initially, I didn’t know what it was. It sounded like a nuclear bomb had gone off. When the ringing in my head subsided, I was aware I had my head buried in my knees, my hands clamped over my ears.
But when I tried to listen past the relentless shrill ringing in my skull, I heard them one after the other. Pop, pop, pop! Gunshots. The crack of each bullet ricocheted in my skull. It was a robbery, I thought dizzily. We were being robbed. No, Second Street was being robbed. When I lifted my head to try and find Jude and Ana to see if they were okay-- I expected them to be cowering like me, Jude, under the table, muffling yelling into his hand, and Ana, calmly pulling him to safety. But that wasn't what I saw. Instead, I must have been fucking imagining things. Jude had not moved from his spot-- and perfectly melded into his hand, was a gun. A gun he was holding like a pro, his hands wrapped around the butt, index teasing the trigger.
His trajectory was directly between Cora's eyes. Jude had not been the one who shot the gun. In fact, neither had Ana, who was still standing stiffly behind the blonde guy.
It was a girl behind the counter who had come out of nowhere wielding the type of gun I expected to see in movies. I noticed from his stance Jude had maybe stepped to the left and then the right to avoid being hit, but the way his demeanour was fully and completely relaxed sent shivers creeping down my spine. "The deal is off, Cora," he murmured. "You fuck with us, so we fuck with you." he lowered his gun slightly, his eyes darkening. "Where's Ren? He came here to sniff you out, so where is he?"
Cora seemed remarkably calm. She started to raise her hands, her lips forming the words, "I don't know what you're talking about" before she stopped, her body going limp. It took me a disorienting moment to realize Jude had taken the shot, followed by another, both landing right between her eyes. When Cora hit the ground, the whole world around me exploded.
I was dragged to the ground by Jude, as he dived across the floor, pressing himself into the back of a table, twisting around, and taking out the barista who almost shot me in the face. There were five of them, all of them good shooters. Too good. Ana easily took out a blonde and brunette with her own magnum, followed by a bald guy who crashed through the counter which collapsed under him.
Jude fell into a manic shoot-out with a guy who would not give up, and after several attempts, re-loading, and attempting to finish him from the ground, my colleague got tired and stood up, dropped his gun, and leaped across the counter. I didn't know what to watch. Ana, who was destroying their coffee machine, or Jude, who snapped the boy's neck with a single twist of his fingers, before ripping out his eyes. He hauled the dead guy over his knees, grazing his teeth across the pasty flesh of the boy's neck, his eyes flickering. I wouldn’t say they turned a different color, but there was something inhuman about them, a certain tint around his iris. "Urgh."
He shoved the corpse away, jumping up. "He reeks of it." Treading through broken glass and pooling red on the floor, my colleague grabbed a cup, downed it, and then spat it out. “That.” He sputtered. “Is the worst fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Ana stepped in front of him, handing the boy his gun. “When one of any clan is murdered for with no reason, there is an imbalance, and the coffee is tainted. We must restore the balance before this gets out of hand,” she surprised me by speaking, with a tinge of an Aussie accent. The girl side-eyed me before shooting Jude a knowing look. “Don’t let her get in our way.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” He mocked a salute before nodding to me. “All right! Sim, you grab a sample. We’ll go find the altar.”
Something ice-cold slipped down my spine.
“What?”
“Cool it. It’s more fun than it sounds,” was all Jude responded with. “Grab the samples.”
I was running on adrenaline, doing exactly what he said. I grabbed two coffee cups. “What do we do now? We go home, right?”
He swiped at his lips with a sound of disgust. “Are you kidding? No, man. We get coffee which ain’t tainted.”
Ana took out two guards in the back before leading us both through a heavy metal door that led into tunnels, tunnels, illuminated by candlelight. “You just killed multiple people,” I finally managed to choke out, following the two of them deeper into the dark. “Over coffee.” I couldn’t resist a nervous laugh that spluttered into a cry. “You just murdered seven baristas over fucking coffee!” I found myself backing away at points, scanning for a way out, an exit away from this fucking nightmare.
Jude turned to me, the glitter in his eyes reflected in the candlelight. “Oh, please,” His voice echoed down the tunnel in a chuckle. “Do you really think this is just about coffee?”
I didn't understand what he meant until we came to the end of the tunnel, which dipped into an alcove leading us into a large cave-like room. Drawing his gun, Jude scanned the dark. "Anyone in here?" He said, and Ana hit him. Silence answered, and I found myself paralyzed to the spot. I didn't know what to stare at first. The ten-foot-tall Starbucks Siren looming over us, illuminated in flickering orange candlelight, or the old swimming pool filled to the brim. When I took a step forward, my foot sunk into something soft, and I made the mistake of looking down. Bodies.
I guessed that was "The Drink".
I felt myself fall back, but Ana's warm arms were guiding me away from decomposing flesh which decapitated heads poisoned in a way that I could almost call ritualistic. There were bodies everywhere, all of them curled up or had died in a position of prayer. Jude crouched in front of a guy still in his Starbucks apron. His eyes had been cleanly plucked from his skull. Jude's expression was beautifully sombre in the candlelight. "Fuck, dude," he whispered.
"Looks like they got you."
“Which explains how they got their hands on our recipe.” Ana pulled out her gun and clicked off the safety. The girl’s eyes were suddenly sad, her lip wobbling. I had a hard time believing a girl who had taken out three baristas at point-blank range was crying.
"Through him."
“What is this place?” I whispered. "What the fuck are you doing in here?”
Jude straightened up. Ana moved behind him, and I noticed her hands holding her gun were trembling. She raised her arm, pointing it at the back of his head. Jude didn't retaliate, only sending me a sickly smile. "It used to be ours," he said. "Until other stores started opening, and it became a fucking free-for-all." Jude sighed, rocking back and forth on his heel. Ana's trigger finger followed his movements. "We have a peace treaty..." Jude trailed off. "Sorry. HAD a peace treaty." He nodded to his colleague. "Second Street has always been obsessed with this particular blend we have that other stores don't." His lips curved. "They're greedy, and thought they could fuck with us. First, they took our last manager. He was like a dad to us. Sliced him up and sent us his head." He gestured to his friend. "And then they took Ren. They brought this shit upon themselves."
As he spoke, Jude dropped to his knees and closed his eyes, bowing his head in front of the Siren. Ana didn't move. "Are you ready?"
“Always.”
I screamed, slamming my hand over my mouth when this time when Ana shot Jude point blank in the back of the head. When his body crumpled to the ground, something inside me snapped in two, and I couldn’t breathe suddenly. I thought the two were playing some kind of sick game before I caught unmistakable seeping black pooling across the alter.
In the blur of orange candlelight, it was almost a mesmerizing sight. “Shush!” Ana sent me an annoyed look, before gathering his body in her arm. “Make yourself useful and grab a bucket,” she said, stumbling towards the pool. I watched her, my heart diving into my throat. When I didn’t move, Ana hissed out and twisted around.
“Did you not hear me?!” she yelled. “Get a bucket and start collecting it!” The girl gestured towards a large, rusted pipe looming over the pool, a stream of murky brown water leaking into the pool. When I started forwards, the girl shook her head. “Not yet.” She said, before heaving Jude’s body and throwing him into the darkness. I heard the splash, but I didn’t even see his body hit the surface. Part of me wanted to demand what the fuck she was doing, but I did what I was told, with trembling hands, grabbing a bucket and shuffling over to the pool edge. Ana hissed out again. “I said not yet!” Before I could speak, she held a finger to her lips. “Do it now!”
“The pool water?!” I shrieked.
She raised a brow. “You think that’s water?”
Before I could coerce some kind of speech, I was interrupted by what felt like a sudden earthquake. The ground rumbled under our feet, and I hesitated before dropping the bucket into the water and scooping up as much as I could. I quickly realized it wasn’t water. It was thick with the constancy of blood, coffee brown and yet sticky and warm like blood.
Above us, the pipe seemed to come to life, a brand new stream of murky brown solution coming down in a waterfall. I didn’t think about the pieces of flesh floating on the surface, the decomposing heads I caught bobbing around, or the fact that I was dipping my hands in blood. Coffee and blood. My stomach was trying to projectile my lunch, but I swallowed it down. I took advantage, managing three buckets before Ana was grasping my shoulders and pulled me back. I didn’t realize I was sobbing until she was handing me a handkerchief, and I was staring at her and it, like, “What do you expect me to do with this?!”
Still in shock, I tried to get another bucket full before she dragged me from the pool edge. “You can stop now,” she said. “We have enough.”
"Enough what?!"
I staggered back when the surface of the pool rippled. I don’t know what I expected to come out.
Dead bodies?
Decapitated heads?
Not Jude, covered in the brown murky shit I had filled the buckets with. When he broke the surface, I almost threw one of the buckets at his head. Despite being covered in coffee and blood, his skin was oddly free of flaws. The guy was also really naked, which should have been a minor problem compared to what I was seeing, which was a real resurrection in front of a ten-foot statue of the Starbucks siren. Which was completely normal.
But I still found my cheeks heating up. Jude ran a hand through soaked curls sticking over his eyes, shaking them like a dog before pulling himself out. I couldn’t help noticing there was no gunshot wound. It was almost as if his body was completely new. I took in abnormally grey-looking skin, like dead flesh, before averting my gaze. “Did we do it?” He gasped out, immediately covering himself. Once out of the pool, he knelt on the ground, sucking in breaths of air before seemingly realizing the state of himself.
“Fuck. I didn’t think this through.”
“I did.” Ana reached into the backpack she had brought, pulling out a shirt and jeans, reverting her eyes, and throwing him the bundle. “Get dressed.” She said, But there was a slight smirk on her lips. “Yes. I think we managed to appease them.”
“Sweet!” Jude grinned, dressing quickly. He sucked the tips of his fingers. “Mmm.” He nodded at Ana. “That tastes a lot better.”
He gestured to her, and to my disgust, the girl delicately licked his fingers and nodded with her own smile. “It tastes like cherry blossom.”
His eyes fell on me, and I saw that inhuman gleam in his eye—that had been very much there before he was resurrected in a pool of coffee. His lip quirked. I could still see coffee-- or blood dripping in thick rivulets down his temples and cheek. “Should we?”
Jude turned to Ana. “I mean while we’re here, right? We can induct the newbie.”
Immediately, I knew what he was talking about. I stepped back, but he was following me, getting closer and closer until his breath was in my face, and I was teetering on the edge. I sensed something in his eyes, something I never expected from a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Envy. Another step, and I would be falling into what I was sure was a pool full of decomposing bodies and resurrecting coffee. “Not now,” Ana murmured, and Jude snapped out of it, taking a step back.
“Buzzkill.” He muttered.
But he did step away, allowing me to inch away from the pool.
“Later,” Ana said. “She’s shaken up. We can do it first thing tomorrow.”
To my surprise, there were no cops at the scene at Second Street. Because there was no scene.
The store was back to normal, and I didn’t have the energy to question why. When we returned, Aurora wrapped me into a hug I tried to get out of as quickly as possible, eager to get the fuck away from that place. But. I had to finish my shift. I had watched a man resurrected by coffee in a fucking Starbucks shrine, and yet somehow I had to keep making drinks until my shift ended. It was nearing closing time when the doors opened, and I found myself face-to-face with the girl from earlier. The one wearing the pink ray-bans.
She didn’t say anything, but the blade of her knife grazing my gut told me everything I needed to know. With a knowing look when she slipped off her raybans, she pressed something into my hand before leaving, and I handed it to the manager, who opened it up, almost died laughing, and then threw it in the trash.
“You work for psychopaths.” I managed to get out, sidling in front of Jude while he was clocking out.
“Also, didn’t you… didn’t you fucking die?”
Jude didn’t look up from his phone. “It’s complicated.” His lip quirked. “You’ll find out tomorrow during your induction.”
“But… you work for these people!” I lowered my voice. “And you’re not trying to get away?” I gestured to Kai and Aurora standing by the door, the two of them locked in conversation. “None of you?”
Jude frowned, and I caught the first hint of annoyance. I had only seen this guy smiling, so seeing him scowling was quite the change. “I’m sorry, do you… do you think I have a choice?”
He surprised me with a laugh. “Me? A choice? You really think I wake up every morning and WANT to do this shit?” He got close, his breath in my ear. “You came here willingly. I didn’t. In fact? I don’t even remember coming here. My interview, my first day? Nothing. I don’t even remember my time at Second Street.” He threw a towel at me before I could coerce words. “Finish clearing up, all right? I’ll see you tomorrow for induction.”
There was something cruel in his smile like he was waiting for whatever my induction had in store for me.
I couldn’t help myself. When everyone was gone, and I was tasked with locking up, I picked the discarded note out of the trash, smoothing it down.
“You pieces of shit just declared war. Sleep with one eye open! 😊”
Cora xx.”
….
I cut my finger with a knife this morning. When I sucked it and grabbed a band-aid, I tasted coffee. I went home and threw up coffee.
I am peeing coffee.
I showered 8 times and I still fucking smell of coffee.
I don’t think I’m going to go to work tomorrow.
Edit: There’s been a break-in— and the manager wants me to come in early. Jude and Ana woke me up in the middle of the night to go over tactics. We are taking down Second Street during closing time.
I guess I am going to work tomorrow.
Does anyone know how to use a gun?

First: https://redd.it/11e34ce
Previous: https://redd.it/142fe2y
Chapter 32
As Mae had previewed, the weeks that passed since the incident in the Logistics Bay were fraught with speculation and feeding the rumor mill. Quin felt he couldn’t walk ten paces on Nemo before meeting some askance gaze of a crewmember or hearing the murmurings of a conversation that abruptly stopped when he would round a corner. Mae was right though that, after a while, the incident became old news and the ruckus died down a bit. Certainly, there was always an inappropriate joke to be had during dinner or dark looks from certain members of the crew, but as the time passed, people turned once again to daily happenings onboard, when the next stopover would take place, and the perennial favorite: who happened to be sleeping with whom.
This last item tended to occupy people to no end, and Quin felt a bit unfortunate that this news also pertained him. Mae and Liza’s breakup and the apparent spat that he and Pepper had ran through the corridors just as fast as the news about Nova. Quin was honestly unsure which conversation he dreaded being brought up more. It seemed that individuals he had never or barely even met knew more about his world than he himself was aware. It was during one of these conversations with two people from the Engineering section that Quin accidently lost it and stormed off, an act he regretted immediately for furthering the gossip chain.
“So is it true that you had to hold Mae back so she wouldn’t punch Liza?” the guy had asked.
”What? NO. What the hell?” Quin responded, flabbergasted.
“Well, I heard from someone in the officer’s corridor that there was yelling and someone got hit. Do you know who got punched?” The other person was practically on their toes with anticipation.
“NO ONE GOT PUNCHED!” Quin shouted, ready to leave the conversation as soon as possible.
“Jeez, why are you yelling?” as the first person, blind to Quin’s growing frustration.
“Don’t you know, Liza’s friend broke up with him the next day because of the fight?” The second person remarked to the first, now completely cutting Quin out of the conversation.
“WE WEREN’T EVEN DATING! WHAT THE HELL?!” Quin screamed, turned on his heels and stormed off to nowhere in particular.
Thankfully, this was probably the worst interaction he had had as a result of those unfortunate few days, aside from the actual conversations themselves that he experienced with Pepper and Nova themselves. He would have appreciated any interaction with either of them at all, if he was honest. The silent treatment from the both of them was practically unbearable. Mae’s words of encouragement, “Time, give it time,” only helped so much when he would pass by Pepper in the corridors or when he had to work directly with Nova during his long shifts in the lab. Nova had limited their conversations to something like a comment box, dropping in parcels of a conversation to the syslog, to be taken up at her leisure and delivered at inconvenient times in the middle of the night. But at the very least, Nova was responding, albeit specifically for work and solely related to their responsibilities together. Pepper, on the other hand, was completely mute. Painfully so, Quin noted as she passed by him going into the cafeteria and didn’t even afford him a glance.
The level of complete non-interaction with Pepper and the invasion into his life by everyone else was beginning to wear on him, and he felt more cut off from the rest of the crew than ever before. He had stopped visiting Bostwick’s chamber for fear of the look of pity that the Commander often wore when passing by him. At least Mae had somewhat of a ‘tough love’ approach to cheering him up. Bostwick’s uncompromising warmth and sympathetic looks made Quin feel guilty rather than comforted, and shameful rather than encouraged. In fact, in the two and a half weeks that passed since Nemo had left the Rhea stopover and Quin passed the night under the watch of the Commander, Quin had only exchanged glances with Bostwick.
Then there was the insomnia. At first, Quin felt nothing but lethargy as he felt the different components of his life crumble around him. The inability to communicate with Tess, the intolerable pity of Mae and Bostwick, the unbearable silence from Pepper and Nova, the frustration expressed by the command staff, and the whispers and side-eyes from the rest of the crew all contributed to the complete physical and mental shutdown he experienced after leaving Rhea. He would steal away to his chamber during break periods to nap, and he would skip meals in order to stay in his room, profiting from the odd bits of food Mae snuck out of the cafeteria. However, after several days of feeling an inability to motivate himself to be out of bed, he started to find that he would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, or glancing at the clock and fretting that it was already 4:00 in the morning.
It was on one of these early mornings that Quin saw the numbers 3:22 at the top of his tablet, and he felt as if it would be impossible for him to find any sleep that night. He had laid down in bed at 22:05 with every intention of forcing a good night’s sleep, but with five hours passing by and no respite coming, he sat up on the edge of his bed and rubbed his eyes a bit. He figured that the coffee station in the kitchen would probably have some hot water with which to make tea, and that could possibly help him. He threw his jumpsuit and boots on and strolled out of the room.
The ship was deserted and peaceful, the type of quiet that Quin relished. It was almost trance-inducing, the soft hum of the ship that Quin felt coming through the very walls themselves. He felt the sound reverberate through him and it was soothing. He set off toward the kitchen. The sleet grey walls of Nemo’s interior usually made for a serious backdrop, but at this hour, it had the effect of dimming the corridors and adding to the sleepy atmosphere of the ship. He stuffed his hands deep in his pockets and followed the sleek lines of the hallways with his eyes as he passed. He came upon the cafeteria doors and walked by them to skirt the main room. He was heading for the back area, the sparkling room with gleaming metal and white tile and a peaceful getaway. Upon swiping his arm against the pad, though, he found that the space was already occupied. A voice greeted him before he had an opportunity to look up.
“Hey Quin, can’t sleep? Is it another bad dream?” Bostwick was sitting on a stool with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand and his illuminated tablet resting on one of the food prep work tables. The man had a weary look around his eyes but Quin could still discern the warmth that emanated from the wrinkles near his temples and the large smile he wore. Quin froze, unsure whether to step into the room and submit himself to another round of pity or try to find some excuse for leaving and head back to his room. In his uncertainty, he ended up standing in the doorway, causing the automatic doors to try to swish shut but freezing and retracting, over and over again.
“Well? Are you just going to stand there, mouth agape, or are you going to come get something to drink like you had planned?” Bostwick said with an eyebrow raised, his mouth now reflecting a knowing smirk. Slowly, Quin trudged into the room, his hands clenched in his pockets as he tried to suppress the nerves that were boiling in his stomach. He gingerly walked over to the coffee station and put a tea bag in a cup and pressed the release valve to allow boiling water to fall over it. Then he set the cup down to steep. He kept his eyes fixed on the surface of the brewing tea, though he felt the hair on the nape of his neck stand as he guarded himself for Bostwick’s eventual conversation starter. But after a minute, it didn’t come. Quin stood there watching the deep brown tea diffuse throughout the water but did not hear a word come from Bostwick. Hesitantly, Quin looked around and saw Bostwick tapping on his tablet, seemingly composing a message.
Quin shuffled his feet a bit before clearing his throat lightly. Without even looking up, Bostwick said, “I’m able to read signs, Quin. If you don’t want to talk to me, I’m more than happy to oblige your intention to be left alone.”
Quin’s eyes shot up to look at Bostwick, who kept on typing as if he hadn’t spoken. Quin was left a bit taken aback. Oh hell, he thought, is it that obvious or can he read my mind? He shuffled again and then picked up his tea cup. Quick, say something, you idiot, his mind was screaming at him as he struggled to put together his words.
“Look, uh, Commander, I—“ Quin started, but was immediately cut off.
“Louis, but please continue,” Bostwick said, looking up at him and smiling.
Whatever momentum Quin had built up in trying to speak, he lost it with Bostwick’s interruption. He started to second-guess even his need to speak if Bostwick was going to be able to anticipate the conversation. His mentor apparently picked up on his nervousness, because he relieved Quin’s tension by taking up what was going through Quin’s head.
“Quin, listen, I understand that you feel like you want to be left alone,” Bostwick said, his tone soft and unassailing. “And I’m sensing that you feel a bit embarrassed about being vulnerable in front of me. That’s a totally normal human feeling. I hope you aren’t feeling, though, that I overstepped any boundaries by not waking you up immediately when you fell asleep in my room?”
“No, uh, Louis, it’s not that,” Quin said abashedly.
“Good, I’m glad. So if you are feeling ashamed about the way I show that I care about you, please just tell me, and we can talk about how I can change that.”
Again, Quin was at a loss for words. It’s not that I don’t want him to care about me, he thought, it’s that I want him to be mad. Why wasn’t he angry at all? That I could deal with. But he’s so kind that I feel like I want to scream. Quin lifted his eyes and finally met Bostwick’s own piercing gaze. Bostwick seemed to interpret the silence and took up the conversation again.
“Unless…perhaps you are feeling ashamed about your own reaction?” Bostwick posited. “Quin, it’s almost the twenty-third century, well actually, for everyone not aboard this ship, it already is. We are long past the cultural stereotype of men not being able to cry. I’d say that your expression of deep emotion is quite masculine, and I for one would—“
Quin interrupted him, “No, Louis, it’s not that either.”
Bostwick fell silent for a moment, then continued gently, “Okay, again, if you wouldn’t like to discuss it right now, you can simply have your tea and we can sip our respective beverages in silence. Though I will note that a 3am excursion raises all sorts of eyebrows that a lesser XO would rush to conclusions. Thankfully for you, I’m not a lesser XO.” He ended with a smirk, returning to his tablet with a very self-satisfied look on his face.
Quin let the silence fill the room again as he turned his cup in his hands, the warmth slowly radiating through his cold fingertips and seemingly giving him a bit of courage. After a moment, he slowly walked over to the work table and set his cup down. Again, without looking up, Bostwick pulled a stool out from underneath the table and pushed it toward Quin. Quin couldn’t help but smile a bit at Bostwick’s level of tact in assuming. He took the proffered stool and plopped himself down, elbows on the work table and eyes fixed on the tea cup. Hesitantly, he glanced at Bostwick, who was humming a tune and slowly shaking his head back and forth in rhythm as he completed his message and hit the send button.
Quin cleared his throat and made his attempt, “Commander, uh sorry, Louis, it’s not that I don’t appreciate everything. I really do. I just…I was just wishing you would be less…I don’t know…understanding? A little more mad?”
“I have no intention of being mad at you Quin. That would be counterproductive and a waste of energy. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Well, I um, what do you mean?” Quin shook his head as his eyes fell.
“I’d imagine that your self-imposed reclusion and the restrictions imposed by Captain Fuentes would be a sufficient punishment, and you are probably looking for a friendly face, especially after things with Ensign Jefferson, erm, Pepper, have recently soured. That would leave you with Mae to seek some company and I daresay that Lieutenant Rohlwing has her own mission responsibilities and personal tumult to deal with, no?”
Quin was staring with his mouth open at Bostwick, who yet again was wearing a rather pleased smirk on his face. How in the hell did he know all of that? Quin thought, unable to keep an astounded look off his face.
Bostwick chuckled, then seemingly replied to Quin’s thought, “You people think the command staff are a bunch of old farts out of touch with the inner workings of the social network among you youths, but I too hear things. I have my spies on board.”
Quin laughed, causing Bostwick to perk up a bit, “Oh alright,” he rejoiced, arms up in the air. “Ten points to Bostwick for making the moody one laugh.”
Quin laughed more heartily and took a sip of his tea. When he looked back up he saw Bostwick was staring at him with an encouraging look on his face, as if to say May I keep asking questions? Quin sipped his tea again and nodded softly, almost to himself as he continued to chuckle.
“So, I take it you and Ms. Jefferson have not spoken much since we set off from Rhea?” Bostwick asked, eyebrow raised.
“No, that would require her wanting to speak to me,” Quin said dryly.
“How do you know she doesn’t want to speak to you?” Bostwick asked.
“Well, she seems to avoid or ignore me, so I’m trying to take the hint,” Quin said, trying to be nonchalant in his tone.
“Do you still like her?” Bostwick continued.
“Yeah, a lot. I thought we were doing well, really well on Rhea, but I said some stupid things in defending Mae to her, and I know I need to apologize, but she basically called me a coward, she said I needed to ‘grow a spine.’” Quin quickly gave Bostwick the back and forth of what constituted Pepper and his last conversation.
“I don’t think you are a coward. You do have a tendency to take your relationships with everyone very seriously, which is for the most part endearing, but I can see how she would find that stubbornness a bit frustrating when she is trying to argue with it.”
“So now you are on her side?” Quin said sharply.
“I wouldn’t dare try to take her side, but you don’t need to bite my head off for trying to give you some advice. I can see it’s not welcome though,” Bostwick said flatly, falling silent.
“No…wait, I’m sorry,” Quin said, changing his tone immediately. “Please, Louis, help me. What should I do?”
“An honest apology to start, you would be surprised how far being honest and sincere gets you. People seem to forget that. Then I would try to start seeing Ms. Jefferson outside of your interactions with Mae and Liza. Give yourselves something to talk about other than your common friends. That way you don’t revert into difficult territory immediately.”
“Like what?” Quin asked. “Watch a movie with her or something?”
“That being your strong, go-to approach, sure you could start there,” Bostwick said. “As an extra hint, I hear that the kitchen has some late-night snacks stashed away back here, and if you know someone, you can get good movie food. You could even, you know, call it a date or something. Don’t be afraid to ask her to do something at the next stopover too. Again, call it a date. If she sees you taking her seriously like you do everything else, she’ll probably appreciate you being intentional about it. That’s my guess. Anyway, Cronus is supposed to be a little bit more of an open schedule, so you can be more creative.”
Bostwick was making all sorts of sense. His was the type of advice that Quin had been looking for all along. Quin found himself shaking his head, as he processed everything. Bostwick seemed to misinterpret it.
“What? You’re thinking a different approach?” he said, a bit surprised.
“NO! No, sorry, it’s just…I’ve been such an idiot. That’s really good advice, I’ve just been stupid not talking to you. I don’t know why,” Quin finished, again shaking his head.
“Because you are young, and you guys don’t like getting romantic advice from someone your parents’ age,” Bostwick said, smiling.
“You aren’t that old,” Quin said, “I know we joke about it, but you can’t be more than…”
Bostwick laughed. “Be careful how you finish that sentence, Mr. Hammond.”
“Well, anyway, you aren’t that old. You just…I don’t know, you have this way about you, it made me want to avoid you. I felt ashamed that you were being all sympathetic, and it made me blind to the fact that I really needed to talk to you. What I mean is, you are a good listener, and I forgot that when I was unable to think straight. I felt all of these things happening around me, and you were there when that stuff happened with Nova. I know you were just trying to be nice. I’m sorry I was such an ass.”
“Well, if you were looking for honest and sincere apologies, Quin, you just found yourself one,” Bostwick said, putting his hand on Quin’s shoulder. “Change it up a little to be specific for her, and I’m sure you will have a good result. Don’t forgot to take care of yourself when you are trying to fix everything else, you know? It’s not possible to be perfect, so don’t make yourself sick in trying to be.”
“Yeah, right,” Quin said softly. “I wish I could fix everything, just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“That would be nice, but unfortunately, we aren’t computers, and life isn’t all math problems. Sometimes life just needs time and a bit of decent humanity.” The two of them were silent for a little while as Quin stewed in his thoughts. Despite the hour, he was wide awake and appreciative of his little night excursion. After the pause had continued much longer than Quin expected, he looked up and saw Bostwick studying him. The man opened his mouth and then hesitated, before beginning tenderly, “Speaking of, how are things going with Nova?”
Quin sighed a bit, collecting his thoughts. Then he decided it was for the best and recounted to Bostwick the last conversation that Nova and he had face to face. The two of them had really not spoken since that evening some weeks ago. As Quin was narrating the story to Bostwick, the Commander was slightly chuckling and shaking his head. Astounded, Quin finished his story and confronted Bostwick.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded. “You’ve been laughing the entire time.”
“She’s quite brilliant, you know,” Bostwick said, scratching his forehead, eyes wide. “She presents these neat little ethical quandaries as if they were nothing and yet, scientists and philosophers have been asking the same types of questions about artificial intelligence for maybe two hundred years. It’s only now that we have got a being that is the walking and talking example of that.”
“Yeah, well, she’s another one that’s not talking to me,” Quin said.
“Well, Quin, I’m afraid I must give you the same advice. You should apologize. In her view, and I think objectively, you were somewhat of, if I may borrow your words, ‘an ass.’”
“This time I think you are definitely taking her side,” Quin said, sourly.
“Indeed. You created her. She takes her direction from you. You are kind of like her father, her brother, her friend, and her crewmate all rolled into one. The obligations of any one of those roles would be enough to say you needed to be there for her, and unfortunately you found yourself too busy being in your own head. Perhaps this is the root of your problem with both Ms. Jefferson and Nova. You are so busy letting everything weigh on you, being worried all the time, that you are unable to focus externally and be present for other people.” Quin’s eyes were downcast, his shoulders slumped. Well, if this is his form of a closing pick-me-up, I don’t think it’s working, Quin thought, sighing deeply.
“Fortunately,” Bostwick continued suddenly, “I think the solution is relatively simple and similar. You need to apologize to Nova, sincerely this time, and you need to spend some time with her, outside of work, so that you can normalize being around her. If your point was that you sometimes forget that she is only part human, then you need to do more human things with her in order to sensitize yourself to how she acts. She shouldn’t have to change for you, it should be the other way around. She can’t just be a mantelpiece in your career, Quin. She thinks.”
Quin sighed aloud, saying, “Yet again, another piece of sound advice from the ever-so-sage Commander Bostwick. And yet again, the solution is that I was wrong.”
Bostwick laughed. “Well, welcome to being an adult, my friend. Everything is complicated and you are usually wrong.” He patted Quin on the back. “Sarcasm aside, it’s okay to be wrong, just own up to it.”
Quin nodded slightly, acknowledging Bostwick’s counsel. The room was silent for a bit longer. The Commander downed his cup of coffee and looked into it, as if inspecting the bottom.
“You know what,” he said, looking up. “I think I’m going to have some tea too, but I’ve been keen to try some of the apple honey they brought me, you want some?” Quin nodded slowly, lost in his thought. Honey, he said to himself, honey, something about…honey.
“Can you believe they make all of this on Rhea?” Bostwick said over his shoulder. “I honestly can’t understand how their entire ecosystem, let alone their economy, operates off apples. It’s nuts.” Bostwick chuckled to himself. “Sorry for the pun.” Apples and honey, Quin’s brain was churning, but at this hour it was too fuzzy. …and honey.
He set two new cups down in front of them, still steaming and with the tea infusers bobbing around on the surface. He pulled a jar down from one of the kitchen cabinets and ladled a small bit of honey into each cup. After stirring a bit, Bostwick took a sip and smacked his lips, grinning satisfactorily at Quin.
“Oh my, that’s so good,” Bostwick said, relishing the taste as he took another draw. “You should drink it while it’s hot.”
Quin brought the cup to his lips mechanically, though he could have sworn that he was missing something. He felt himself distracted by Louis enjoying his cup of tea, the early hour, and the lack of a good night’s sleep for several days. I could have sworn that I just remembered something, he thought, growing frustrated at the lack of ability of his brain to recall what it was that was escaping him. Resigning himself, he took a long swig, his eyes closing automatically when the taste of the sweet and sour apple-tinged honey hit his lips. Instantly, he was transported back onto Rhea, where he savored several fleeting moments of being away and being happy. Unfortunately, his happiness was suddenly ripped away from the call from Nemo. What I wouldn’t give to be back there to have some more time with Pepper and Mae, he thought while recollecting the honey tasting in the orchard. He remembered the smile on Pepper’s face, how infectious it was, and Mae’s giggling at him.
“Hmm,” Bostwick said into the silence, “it’s just about time that the command deck wakes up. Some of the buzzing should start soon.”
“Buzzing?” Quin asked distantly, almost half-consciously.
“Sorry, yeah, buzzing. Message traffic. Unfortunately, a lot of the lingo revolves around bees.”
“Bees?” Quin asked, his brain slowly coming to.
“Yeah, bees,” Bostwick said, studying Quin curiously. “You know, Captain Fuentes being the Queen, the Deck being the hive, that sort of thing.”
“Bees!” Quin exclaimed.
“What?” Bostwick demanded, flabbergasted.
“Louis! BEES!” Quin shouted, shooting off his stool and slamming his cup down.
“Quin, I don’t-“ Bostwick began, but Quin wasn’t listening. The young man half-sprinted out of the room.
“BEES!” Quin shouted again, his face mixed with a smile and intense concentration.
“Okay, Mr. Cage,” Bostwick said, chuckling and shaking his head, his eyes and mouth reflecting a knowing smile as he watched Quin run out of the room.

Chapter 89 - The Angels Have Chose
​
Afternoon, Two days before Shel
It was getting near lunch and Tom checked his omni-pad. It seemed as good a time as any to take stock of the day.
…Miv’s right, I’ve been climbing the walls…
There was a text from Bherdin. The IOTC girls were doing well, and would hold up their part to play in the banquet.
…That’s nice. I’d feel guilty as hell if Vedeem weren’t dating a Princess. That kind of evens things up…
And his suit was going to be delivered tonight.
Tom sighed and shook his head. Bherdin was happy as a clam. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than the Warden’s outfit. The little Shil could make you believe in reincarnation, because he definitely had the soul of Liberace. Still, it was only one evening. Surely a state dinner couldn’t be that bad. It was a crowd of scientists and assorted nobility, for goodness sake…
…It’s not the audience I’m worried about…
There was a message from Lamana Duvari. The Interior agent had been cooperative, though he could tell she wasn’t happy about this plan. She was deferring to her Princess, but Duvari favored playing for time. There was just something about sitting back and waiting that didn’t have any appeal…
…She wasn’t the one with a knife in her guts…
That wasn’t fair. Whatever else you could say about the woman, if she’d been asked to trade places, she wouldn’t have hesitated. The woman's dedication was frightening, the more so because she spent most of her day in her disguise as ‘Professor Duvari, Totally Normal Person.’
…Well except for the orchestra. Mel and Kas’lin say she's perfectly at home…
“The woman would probably lend a whole new terror to ‘Ode to Joy.’”
At least she’d followed through, and, gods love her, so had Kzintshki. She’d explained her ability to evade most sensors, but the last three nights she’d slipped out on campus to ‘try something new.’ She’d texted every time, and according to Duvari, the Deathsheads in the bunker missed her every time.
…Whatever she’s doing, it could make all the difference…
The women in the bunker… Like Ce’lani. Things shouldn’t go wrong, but how many times had he said that? Something wasn’t right. The feeling he was missing something loomed over him…
“Fuck it… Time to call Ce’lani.”
He’d promised, and Miv would be gone for hours. Besides, it might make him feel better…
_ _ _
Deep in the Ops room out in the bunker, Sgt Diani perked up from her station. “Captain, you’re not gonna believe this. He’s calling her now.”
“You’re putting me on.” Captain Be’ona felt her eyes grow wide. “The woman can’t string two sentences together when she wakes up.”
“Ummm we’re recording this, aren’t we?” Yala asked from the ground team console.
“She threatened to sodomize me with a lasrifle over breakfast…” Be’ona steepled her fingers and smiled guilelessly. “Oh, Deeps, we are. Document that sucker!”
_ _ _
Miv’eire was a stunning woman. Tall, even for a Shil’vati, she was statuesque, yet elegant. She had poise, and it showed. Sholea was equally striking, though lithe, slim, and feisty.
At 6’2, Tom never thought he’d end up as the short one in the family, but somehow neither woman made him feel that way, and were feminine in the way Shil’vati women usually were. Both women behaved just like Human women, with all their cares and concerns - except when they didn’t. When they didn’t, they really didn’t.
It could be disconcerting to have your attitudes reflected back when you least expected it, but that was their ‘normal.’
Shil’vati men? Well, given the social pressures put on them, they behaved like Human women. Though he’d only met a few before leaving Earth, it was a rule of thumb that worked reasonably well. It applied fairly well to the men working as cooks and waiters at Human Food, and he’d been comfortable with adapting in a way. When in Rome… and the men had made an effort to help him adapt. After all, he was on Shil - the odd man out, in the most literal sense.
That said, there were young men like Aku and Vedeem who seemed to face their worlds in understandable ways. Then again, he’d also come to know Jama. While age had slowed him down, words like ‘notorious’ and ‘brazen’ tended to find their way into his thoughts. There were even a few men about like Bherdin, where worlds like ‘florid’ tended to flounder, unequal to the task… But all of them were at home with their lives. This was their normal, and he was the outsider looking in.
He’d adapted.
Staring at his omni-pad, he punched in the number, but held off dialing. What did he know about Ce’lani? They’d shared a morning together, and Miv and Lea approved… Once, that would have been difficult to accept. Now?
…it still took getting used to.
There was also the fact that she was military. Not just a Marine, but a Deathshead Commando, and while the difference was lost on him, it mattered. You couldn’t avoid meeting Shil’vati Marines.
Young, dumb, and full of… expectations… young troops were the same everywhere. They universally tended to piss off the locals.
Taken as a whole, it reminded Tom of his time on Okinawa. The governor of the island had been aggressively against the American bases there, and rightly supported policies to stop sexual violence against local women. The most dangerous animals on the island were, after all, several thousand unaccompanied Marines… though it was also rumored his daughter had been caught with a young Airman in the back of a Chevy.
The guy had to be smuggled off the island one night with extreme prejudice.
All of that came home to roost with the Shil’vati occupation. What had gone around had come around, in the form of young, inexperienced, and hopeful girls turned loose on the ‘sex planet.’ They had gone over just as well as anyone should have expected. If anything, Humanity ought to have known better than the Shil, but it was still a shock to the system.
Once the red zones calmed enough to allow the settlement programs to kick in, families had arrived on Earth. Shil’vati, Rakiri, Helkam… by fits and starts, each had started to appear, along with the other more exotic races in the Imperium. For a while, it had turned into a hobby like train spotting, but somehow people found their niches and things got on. The galaxy came calling, and it turned out that people were just people.
The Marines were the problem. Not as individuals, but as young troops out of their depth in a situation they weren’t right for. Not that the Interior was anyone’s choice, even for the Shil, but after a while people got on…
…Well, most did. God, I’m going to miss Cat…
He banished the weight of old memories and focused.
Ce’lani was… well, not a marine, but the thought stuck in his head. Her letter had been hopeful, not young or inexperienced. The music she’d sent along had been thoughtful, expressing her longing, desire, and optimism in a way that touched the heart… presuming she’d understood the words.
Either that or she’d gotten lucky.
Still, taken as a whole, words like ‘daunting’ tried to edge their way into his thoughts. Personally, she was polite, deferential to Miv and Lea, and had already put herself on the line for him more than once. Physically, though… the woman screamed ‘military.’
Ce’lani Tonis was a beautiful woman with a defined chin and piercing gold eyes, though it was difficult not to think of her body first. Once someone threw you over their shoulder and took off at a dead run, it made a lasting impression. Athletic, in the way that you’d say Arnold Schwarzenegger was ‘well defined,’ everything about the woman said ‘focused,’ - though that seemed normal for Shil’vati women.
For better or worse, Ce’lani had focused on him, and Miv and Lea approved. That was how things stood… and he needed to call the uber-girl and make a date.
“Just when I thought it would stop feeling strange…” Tom shook his head and hit the icon to dial.
The omni-pad rang a few times, and Tom was about to give it a miss when the call connected. While he didn’t enable the feature often, she must have had video on…
“Mn… Hnogh…?”
The uber-girl lay mashed into her pillow, eyes screwed shut as she started to gently snore.
“Ummm... Hi. Ce’lani?” Somehow, her camera lay at an odd angle, barely keeping her in the frame and Tom turned his to match. “Ummm, hello? It’s Tom?”
“Tom…? Tom’zzz cute…” Ce’lani rolled back and snorted once. Part of him considered hanging up, but he lingered in bemused fascination as she carried on talking in her sleep. “All those wommm chazzing... I beat their asses… an… ’e’s cute…”
The polite thing to do would be to hang up and call back later. It wasn’t as if he was going to get anything sorted… Still, it seemed rude not to say something. Besides, if this was recording on her end the least he could do was leave a useful message. “So… would you like to go out for something to eat?”
“Nmm... nice restaurant… does wrestling…” Ce’lani rolled over, her arm flailing at the omni-pad, knocking it askew. “Builds creidszz…”
“Ah…” If she slept during the day, maybe she worked nights. “This seems to be a bad time, so maybe dinner?”
The omni-pad offered a view of the ceiling. “Dinnerz good for wrestling pages…”
“Ok, I’ll set something up.” There was no way not to make this awkward, but if there wasn’t a recording, the worst he could do was call back. “Sweet dreams.”
Shaking his head, he broke the call.
…Alright, maybe not so daunting then… A date won’t be so bad. At least we’ll have something funny to talk about, if it’s humorous from a Shil’vati perspective…
“From a Shil’vati perspective…” The thought stuck in his head, and he punched in a text to Lamana Duvari. ‘Need to meet you this afternoon. Bring cadets. Important.’
Kzintshki did things the Pesrin way. The Shil did things the Shil way… and he’d been approaching this whole banquet from a Human perspective…
And maybe that was all wrong.
_ _ _
As Pathfinder of the Natahss’ja Warband, Sunchaser had known Marakhett since she was a mere kit named M’rast. Admittedly, she was only forty-three Pesh-years older - or five, going by the local calendar - but the years were enough. When she’d started training as a Pathfinder under old Starwise, her mentor instructed her to pay attention to the young kits as well as the adults. They’d be her peers one day and as the future warriors and band mothers of the Woodspirits, knowing them was important. So it was that she remembered Marakhett being born and watched her grow from a kit.
Starwise had lived up to his name. She’d not only learned to deal with other Warbands and the art of contract law, she’d also come to appreciate her family more intimately than most. She knew their strengths and weaknesses. She’d come to appreciate their character as a whole.
She’d been the odd woman out - the social one, though that wasn’t so unusual for Pesrin. Everything back home on Pesh depended on who you knew, who you were related to, who you had or hadn’t eaten… Social ties were everything. The only remarkable thing was that she managed to remain social, coming from a family of dour, uncommunicative, introverted… Well, they were family.
At least if they found it hard to laugh at themselves, she was there to do it for them.
In that respect. Marakhett was everything a bandmother of the Natahss’ja should be. Not without a certain dark and severe sense of humor, but still…
“You’re pulling my asiak.” Sunchaser crossed her arms, her asiak swishing uncertainly.
“I have never pulled your asiak, though if you want amputation…?”
Pathfinder sighed. Naturally, it would be Kzintshki. Talk about the prodigal daughter… “So it’s a brothel? Like… really a brothel?” She pinched the bridge of her nose a moment and rallied. “Well, I suppose if you’re not having fun, you’re doing it wrong, but Mother of Light, there’s such a thing as overcompensation!”
Marakhett stared balefully and groomed her asiak. Sunchaser took the hint.
“Alright, you’re not kidding. Scout me through this from the beginning and stop me when I’m wrong. Your daughter found a boy - a Pesrin boy - in a brothel," Sunchaser supplied helpfully. Marakhett continued grooming. The pause grew longer, but she knew how to wait. After all, Marakhett had come to her…
“You are not speaking.”
“Oh, you just noticed? Because I was hoping that was the point where you were going to stop me.”
Marakhett arched an eyebrow. “Then you must learn to live with disappointment.”
“Daily.” Sunchaser looked at her another moment. Sometimes it was good to remember you loved your family enough to eat them, and some days you wanted to eat them so you didn’t have to remember you loved them. “I see… So this ‘Parst’ is in a brothel. You think she’s getting tied to him?”
“He is the right age… and she is very much in the right season. It is possible.” Marakhett shrugged slightly. Anyone not familiar with her would have missed the gesture. From her, it was positively eloquent, but she unbent slightly. “You are just repeating what we already know. I hoped by the time I returned you’d have found out more about the Rithagian.”
“Don’t get hasty in your middle age - it’s not your style,” Sunchaser snorted. “I’m just laying the trail here. Please tell me you did some scouting? Why don’t you and the other bandmothers just break the boy out? Kzintshki can grab him by the-”
“Of course, I scouted,” Marakhett replied tartly. “That is the problem.”
“Riiiiight… Well, that’s clear as the bottom of a coal mine at midnight.” Sunchaser settled back. Being the extrovert in the family was a penance sometimes, but Marakhett gave her pause. The woman was a careful hunter, but had never been afraid to be the first to use violence. She used it as a tool. Usually as a scalpel and sometimes as a blunt object, but if she said violence wasn’t the answer, it likely wasn’t. This was going to be one of those conversations where she just had to drag the information out. “So you scouted. Are you going to tell me the problem, or just let me guess?”
“The Tide Pool is not merely a brothel. The people work there... Apparently by choice.” Marakhett paused significantly. Sunchaser appreciated the effort, as that was a lot to take in. “The men and women there… and there are more species than I have ever seen… all consider themselves employees. I spoke with four or five and the ones that don't consider themselves ‘entertainers’ for the clients are there as staff. They are all healthy, happy, and abundantly well paid.”
“Well, money can’t buy you happiness, but if that’s true, you could die trying.”
“That is humor?”
“That is an observation,” she replied a bit tartly, turning the matter over in her mind and weighing it against what she’d been able to uncover. “Look, prostitution is a filthy business everywhere we’ve been. Places like that in the Consortium are little better than slave houses, and the Alliance was worse. Men and boys beaten down into lifeless outcasts. No one looks at them as anything but toys until they’re too old or too used up, and then they just get cast aside. Sure, actual slavery is a filthy business, but it’s only illegal because otherwise no man would be safe anywhere! It’s bad enough here with the Silver Suns, but that's better than the Alliance or Consortium. At least the Imperium tries to stop it! You said this place has a lot of money rolling through - if it’s everything you’re saying, then something is going on.”
“So I surmised,” Marakhett said blithely.
Of the Woodspirit’s seven bandmothers, Marakhett was her favorite, but Sunchaser counted to eight, her patience getting thin. “Based on…?”
“The Tide Pool employs Rakiri security, but the staff were armed.” She finished grooming her asiak and let it fall free. “Discreetly, but still…”
Sunchaser parsed that over. An armed staff wouldn’t be easy to subdue. No gang would allow it… and Rakiri? Rakiri were capable fighters and should be respected, if not invited to dinner… but still. Birds flew. Fish swam. They did what they did supremely well and were both good eating. That didn’t make them interchangeable.
“Rakiri don’t make good criminals.” Sunchaser tapped a claw on a bulkhead thoughtfully “It’s just not in their nature.”
Marakhett’s fur arched and settled, displaying she was pleased with herself. “Exactly.”
“So when you say armed, do you mean ‘a little,’ ‘quite’ or ‘very?’”
“My waiter was carrying a knife on a leg strap, and the security women I saw had X-tel GP fives.”
“Flechette pistols?” Sunchaser felt herself staring, despite herself. “Light, those are nasty! Exactly how many ‘staff’ are in this place?”
“I have seen smaller fortresses,” Marakhett said flatly.
“Bigger than the-”
“Yes.”
Sunchaser felt her stomach purge as the conversation ground to a halt again. When Marakhett got into monosyllables, that was about it for information. That made it her turn.
“I heard back from Moonwhisper. She’s wed to their bandmale, and he’s on good terms with the male in the Curmoica.” She felt a moment’s gratification as Marakhett winced slightly. As an extrovert stuck in a family of reclusive mercenaries, a little exposition was her best revenge. Still, there was no need to push it. “They confirmed the Rithagian arrived on Shil a year or so after they did… They took a contract with Duchess Elieana - our employer. Funny she’s never mentioned it.”
“I am laughing on the inside.”
“Really? I’d love to cut you open and hear what that sounds like, because thanks to your daughter we find the ‘quiet old commodities trader’ employing us lost a Warband! Not just some of them - the whole family. That means there’s something up with the Duchess on one side and a fortress on the other.” Sunchaser pulled her asiak in raw frustration. “You know what that means?!”
“You undercharged,” Marakhett said archly.
“YES!” Sunchaser wailed, slamming her fist against the wall. It was humiliating, but she had to make the best of it. “Are you and the other bandmother’s going to tell Lathkiar?”
“Our husband? Not at this point.”
“This could involve slavers, violence, kidnapping, and mayhem.”
“Naturally, but Lathkiar is still learning to use his prosthetic leg. Getting us out of Consortium space cost him dearly, and we don’t want him to think he is missing out… or that we’re out of practice.” Marakhett sighed. “Until we can afford something better, he would slow us down. We are not risking him, so the less he hears, the better.”
Somehow, Kzintshki had negotiated actual land for the Natahss’ja, but while land and herds were a fortune for posterity, until the lands were actively worked, they remained a fortune out of reach. In the meantime, every spare credit that wasn’t being put into their ship now had to be plowed into renovations. That included the money set aside to provide Lathkiar with a good prosthetic, but he’d insisted. The savings was far more than he’d earn with work from the Duchess, and Sunchaser nodded grimly, acknowledging his sacrifice. It was something he could do for the family, and no one was going to take that from him.
“Why did you not marry Lathkiar as well?” Marakhett asked. The question caught Sunchaser by surprise.
“I’m a little old for that,” She pondered the idea. Starwise had negotiated well when she brought Lathkiar into the family from the Konjrel. Normally the price for a man like that would break a family for a year, but he was as laconic as Marakhett. They loved each other dearly, but the idea of sharing quarters with them all? Torture. “That's very kind. Marriage may be a wonderful institution, but I don’t want to be institutionalized.”
“Mn.” As usual, Marakhett’s asiak did the talking for her, and Sunchaser leaned in to rub shoulders with her friend.
“So this… Parst?” she asked circumspectly. The sting of undercharging was painful, but a male… on the loose… with no family charging a dowry for him? Now that was a bargain! “Good looking boy, is he?”
“I can possibly see the attraction,” the bandmother shrugged.
“You threatened him?” she asked mildly. It was an unusual situation, but there were the formalities to consider.
“Yes.” She nodded briefly, “Appropriate to his situation.”
“Good, good… and Lathkiar might like having a young male to bring into the family.” Sunchaser desperately wanted to rub her hands together, but a Pathfinder should never display greed - just embrace it. “It would be good for the family. The girls are getting older and you know Cahliss would be thrilled to have a share of him. Ptavr'ri doesn't get on well with Kzintshki, but she’ll either adjust to being third or go without.”
“I can’t say I don’t agree with you.” Coming from Marakhett, that was practically a manifesto. The woman’s asiak actually perked with joy. If she had a least favorite bandwife it was Harasf, and Ptavr’ri was her daughter. Despite her unusual choice of a Human hahackt, Kzintshki had brought the family land. If she brought home a male, her place as the next bandmother would be uncontested by her bandsisters - including Harasf and Ptavr’ri.
“Who are we to stand in the way of true love? It’s been so long since we’ve had a wedding… It will do the family good, since we’re so far from home,” Sunchaser said firmly, setting her thoughts in order. There was still a great deal to find out about the Rithagian, but they were niblifos. Not enemies, but certainly not allies… Besides, any distant branches didn’t even know about the boy! “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Marakhett nodded thoughtfully. “If he has no family, who do we eat?”
_ _ _
Bherdin D’saari watched Jeidri Shel’ara expectantly. As a Cadet Senior Agent in the IOTC, she’d proven over the last week she could be driven, demanding, and determined. While polite and properly deferential to him, she’d battered down barriers to anything less than perfection in her troops, and was ready to face the worst things the galaxy had to offer.
He sniffed at the waste… In another life she would have made a fabulous maître d'. As it was, she made a marvelous test subject for his latest dessert!
“That is absolutely the most disgusting thing I have ever seen,” she breathed in horrid fascination as Vedeem picked up one of the rectangular mounds. Industrial brown goo discharged suggestively from the sides, but what really captured the eye was the sticky mass oozing out the sides.
Cadet Agent Vandra Elidre leaned in for a closer look before turning pale. “I’m going to be sick.”
Still, none of them made a dash for the bathroom or had the option to refuse. Bherdin appreciated that, since Vedeem was handing them out… Over the last week, his son had truly come into his own, training them day after day… And if that wasn’t enough, who cared!? He was the Princess’ boyfriend! What could they say?
“What in the sweet goddess’ name is that?” Cadet Agent Prindi Ama’dis prodded at hers with horrified fascination, moving it about on the plate, before pulling it apart. A visceral horror crept over her features as the white morass dribbling down, clinging suggestively in ropey white tendrils. “You know what this looks like?”
Vedeem D’saari grinned cheerfully and picked up his own. “Like porn on Shel morning?” One long entrail dribbled suggestively. “Don’t worry! The best things in life are a little sticky!”
Bherdin felt a warm glow of pride in his son. He’d come so far, so fast.
Vedeem smiled compassionately at the girls. Even in their distress, none of them were willing to show weakness… They watched in horror as he picked up his piece and bit deeply. Thick goo surged from the crust, coating one tusk.
Prindi Ama’dis looked like she was going to faint.
“They’re called a ‘s’mores.’ Just try a nibble, please? For me…? Surely, you’re not afraid, are you?” Vedeem tried wiping the sticking mass from his mouth. It trailed away on one fingertip. He gave them a winsome smile. “This can't be the messiest thing you’ve thought of trying with a boy?”
“I…” Jeidri was withering. Vandra looked at her for moral support as Prindi started to wheeze. As the senior cadet, she seemed to be fortifying herself… just as her omni-pad rang. Snatching the unit from her belt, she held it like a talisman. “I’ve got to get this! Vandra! You try it!”
Well, you couldn’t win them all over at once… A love of fine cuisine didn’t come to everyone naturally.
Jeidri’s lower lip quivered, but she picked up the square and gulped. “What… um… what's in it?”
“The brown stuff is chocolate. It’s a vegetable… sort of.” Vedeem ran a fingertip along his own. She and Prindi watched, spellbound… If some savages simply couldn’t appreciate good food, what was one to do? Still, there came a time for selling yourself, and at last Vedeem was learning!
“Umm…. sort of?” Prindi asked nervously.
“Don't worry, I’m sure big girls like you can get a handle on it…” Vedeem’s tongue snaked out and wound around the brown-coated finger suggestively.
“A-and umm… and the… the white stuff?” Vandra whispered horsely.
“Marshmallow…” Vedeem smiled sinfully at the pair… Bherdin couldn't be more proud. All his son needed was a bit more fashion counseling and nothing would stand in his way! The universe would deliver itself to him on a platter!
Of course, first they still needed a test. Some people just had inexplicable tastes.
“Alright…” Prindi and Vandra shared a look and took a bite…
Jeidri Shel’ara hung up on her omni-pad, suddenly all business. “Girls, that was a call from… umm… anyway, we have to get back to the campus at once!”
The cadets looked like they’d found their way to Shil’s own bedroom.
“Oh, thweet ghothess…” Vandra said as she gobbled it down. “Thif if the beft fing I’f ever thafted!”
“Well, of course it is!” Bherdin exclaimed before checking his reflection. As hard as it was to believe, some people just didn’t understand the things an artist had to endure!
__ _
Diani brayed like a turox when she laughed, but at least the girls enjoyed themselves. Yala was wiping tears from her eyes when Be’ona turned off Tom’s monitor. She hadn’t laughed outright…
Well, maybe a bit.
“Right. Eyes back on the job!” she rumbled. Diani was still snickering, but they had a job to do and Be’ona nodded as the sergeant ran a status check on her board. They had a sacred trust, and while breaks in the monotony kept you sharp, they couldn’t become actual distractions.
The board was clear. Princess Khelira was just settling down to lunch with her friends…
“Ma’am? Captain To’nis still has her wake-up call for four?” Diani settled back. “Same as every day, right?
“Mmhmm…” A pod leader should not laugh at their peers in front of the grunts… Be’ona stomped on the chuckle as it threatened to escape and throttled it.
Diani glanced over her shoulder. “Yala? Five credits says she doesn’t remember a thing.”
“Sergeant, that is unkind…” She pulled up the maintenance check from Pod Eight. “I’ll make it twenty. Grow a pair or go home.”
It was good for morale.
_ _ _
It was barely noon and Desi was already worn out.
The files on Earth were starting to blur together every night, but she dug in and kept careful track. Still, the late nights were taking their toll. Even lunch had taken on an aspect of grim determination over the last week, and while it had been useful, Desi missed the days when it was just the carefree banter that started the year. She wouldn't trade her friendship with Melondi for anything, but the revelation had changed everything.
Well, alright, Kzintshki would have shown up anyway, and she seemed impervious to change. She certainly wasn’t what Desi’d imagined a ‘sister’ to be. The Pesrin was seated next to her, prodding the tosip out of the baked goara from today's menu with deep suspicion.
“So, I want to bring something up…” Jax’mi cleared her throat. Desi nodded as the other girls all looked over at Melondi. They knew what was coming, and just now their Princess had her mouth full. “It’s about the calendar.”
Mel... Khelira… was good at reading body language, but Desi suspected the whole table staring at her gave it away. Well, except for Kzintshki. She’d started prying bits of fish from the sauce and took a moment to catch on… Jax didn’t waste time and dove right in.
“I know you’ve been wondering about the news on the calendars… Umm…well, that and one or two other things. I sort of rolled part of the money into another product. You know that Rubik’s thing? I sort of passed that off through my cousin, and we have an offer to market the ‘Chel’xa Block,’ but…” Melondi was trying to finish her bite, so Jax pressed ahead. “Well, anyway, taking out the seed money for the printing and my uncle’s one percent cut for the marketing… ummm… They sold out the first and second runs, and we have an offer to do another.”
“Okay…” Mel bit her lip and frowned at the attention. “How much money is that, and why are you all looking at me?”
“Wellll… We got around a credit per calendar, and my uncle said it sold nearly as well as something called a ‘sports illustrated’ edition… We got an offer from them, by the way, once he mentioned the diving team…”
Melondi had gotten used to eating through unexpected news and started picking at her pippiya. “How much?”
Jax bit her lip. “Allowing for the conversion rate?”
“Fine… allowing for that?” Mel canted her head, looking at Jax’mi warily.
“For both runs?” Jax shrugged. “Around eight hundred thousand credits.”
Melondi dropped her pippiya “What!? For… For pictures of us in bikinis!? That’s… that’s…”
Jax nonchalantly flipped a long wavy lock of silver hair over one shoulder. “The most successful school fundraiser ever!!!”
Jax looked smug, but Desi decided to get things back on track, “The point is, we wanted to talk to you about the money, Mel. We’ve all talked it over, and we’re setting it aside for you.”
“I was going to say preposterous, but why for me?” Mel looked at her, as confusion replaced consternation. “Desi? I think you all know I’m… umm… ‘socially secure.’ We were going to split that... I mean, back when we thought it would just be fun money, but this? I don’t understand. Why would you give it to me?”
“It’s not giving it to you, Mel.” Pris leaned forward, “Well, not as such. It’s more like setting it aside… We need to give some to the school, but we ran it through Dihsala…”
Dihsala pushed her tray away and made a face. “What they’re trying to say is you might need money that can’t be traced.”
“I don’t understand?” Mel said flatly, though there was a defensive note in her voice and Desi suspected she understood perfectly.
“What if you have to run? What if this banquet goes badly?” Dihsala waved a hand briefly at the table, taking everyone in. “We know you don’t want to hear this, but if it’s life or death, you may need to disappear for a while.”
“It’s not like your face is known by the press, but word wouldn’t take long,” Lark pointed out with a nod. “Not if the Palace made an announcement, or your identity was blown.”
Kzintshki stabbed some tosip on one fork, examining it critically. “If the people stalking you decided it helped them flush you out, they’d do so in a minute.”
“They’re right…” Nestha nodded. “My mothers toe the line when the Palace wants something silenced, but if it got totally out in the open, even they’d try and take the lead. Every news outlet and pundit would be offering up something on the data-net.”
“We decided to create a fund to make that happen, if it needs to.” Jax’mi lowered her voice. “My family has a few ships here on Shil. We could get you off-world.”
“My family on Wilist would take you in,” Belda nodded. “There are all kinds of places you can disappear, out on the ranch.”
“Or maybe farther,” said one of the twins. “Mara and I were thinking about Earth. If we asked, maybe the Painters could take you on their ship?”
“I could fool people for a few days… At least the ones off campus,” Desi whispered as she reached out to take Melondi’s hand. “If I slept in your room and we let Vedeem in on it, maybe I could throw them off and give you a head start.”
“I appreciate it... All of you,” Mel looked down at her plate. Her hands fluttered a moment before she clasped them together. “But no, I’m not running away from this. How would this look if I ran at the first sign of danger?”
“The first sign of danger was in the library,” Pris’ voice was full of compassion, but her words made sense. Desi was about to chime in when Mel put her foot down.
“No! I know you’re thinking of me, but what kind of person cuts and runs like that?” Melondi glowered. “Kzintshki, you aren’t Shil’vati. What would it look like to your people? How could I live with myself like that?”
“Easily another fifty years... Longer if you can make money posing in skin suits.” The Pesrin girl frowned. “A Bandmother would not run, but that is different… We are surrounded by family.”
“You’re my family…” Mel said wretchedly before drawing in a long breath. “I… look, you’ve all taken risks for me, and I know you don't want that to be for nothing, but I'm not running away. I couldn't respect myself. Thank you… but no matter what happens, I am not doing that.”
“We had to offer…” the other twin… that would be Kas’lin, reached out for the bread tray. “Anyway, it wouldn’t have been so bad if you went to Earth. We want to know what a ‘rolls’ is.”
“A what?” It was a non-sequitur, but Desi grabbed it like a lifeline. Melondi was embarrassed… That was something a Princess couldn’t afford, and changing the topic was something they could all do for her. “Why don’t you ask the Painters? We’ve barely seen you since they landed… As if we didn’t know why…”
“They’re our heroes!” Mara protested, but she was turning bluer by the second.
“And it would be embarrassing!” Lin nodded. “We’re going to ask the Professor but yeah, we’ve been kept… umm…”
“We’ve had lots of… of intellectual discussions!” Mara nodded a touch frantically. “And you should see the modifications to their ship! It has a magnificent sch-”
“We get it!” The table crowed with laughter as the twins stammered into silence.
“Look, I know we’ve all been under a lot of pressure…” Melondi said tentatively. “Why don’t we have movie night tonight, then go out for a drink tomorrow?”
“What, out in town?” Let’zi spoke up. “Is that safe?”
“We all could use a break. Maybe it’s a good idea, as long as we’re careful. We’ve all been busy,” Desi offered, turning the idea over in her head. It might be good practice impersonating Mel one more time… “Even Kzintshki has been disappearing at night.”
“I have been engaged on your behalf.” Kzintshki started prodding a pippiya apart, scooping out the insides. And picking them apart with a claw. “I have tested evading the sensors. I am told it was satisfactory.”
“What, in your skin suit?” Belda started blushing as she asked.
“In... somewhat less.” Kzintshki’s asiak twitched once. “It was necessary.”
…Less? Less than a bikini? But that meant…
“But… umm… it’s cold out,” Desi stammered as a hush fell over the girls. “Didn’t you freeze your tits off?”
“Pesrin are naturally adaptable… and it’s only forty out. In the skin suit, I am virtually invisible to sensors. ‘Virtually’ may not be enough, this Shel. It required field tests.” Kzintshki’s asiak slipped out of sight and focused on her pippiya as if it was the most important thing in the universe. “It was late. I was not seen.”
“I… I have nothing for that…” Desi found herself staring back to Melondi. The entire table was a sea of blue, now.
“Um, I realize I haven’t asked…” Melondi looked back at her for help, and Desi shrugged. There was no telling with Kzintshki sometimes. “I know why everyone else is helping me. They’re Shil’vati, but you’re a Pesrin. This has to be more than just impressing Professor Warrick as your…?”
“Hahackt. That matters… particularly if I am to engage a mate…” Kzintshki drew herself up, though she glanced about furtively. “Though if you take more pictures in skin suits, I wish to join in. Pesrin are not against easy money.”
“You can have my place!” Belda offered fervently. “I’m going to be a married woman… well, eventually! Liam might not like it if I did it again.”
“There has to be more to it than that,” Melondi asked softly. “This means a great deal to me, so really… anything at all, please just name it.”
“Anything?” Kzintshki set aside the pippiya and picked up her asiak, grooming it modestly. “There is, perhaps, one thing.”
“Name it,” Melondi said. Desi knew the tone... It was her friend sitting there, but Khelira was doing the talking.
“Very well. Immunity from prosecution. From now until the end of Shel.” Kzintshki canted her head, as if issuing a challenge. “You are all nobles… I may be one now, but I am not Shil’vati. If you are caught, it is one thing. If I am caught… as improbable as that may be…”
“Done.” Melondi nodded sharply and raised her voice, “You have my word, as… what I am… before witnesses, and probably being recorded… Immunity from prosecution. A full Imperial pardon for until the end of this Shel.”
“Well, Deeps!” Dihsala breathed. “As long as you’re offering…?”
“Count me in for that!” Pris nodded. “My mother was a magistrate. If I get expelled, she’ll kill me and they’ll never find the body!”
“Alright, fine!” Khelira, Princess of the Shil’vati Imperium had spoken… but Desi saw her friend Melondi… At least until she had to stifle a yawn.
“So, movie night tonight?” Melondi offered. “We still need to pick a film for next week’s class.”
“Oh! Great Waldo’s Peeper has a cute guy named Redford in it,” Kas’lin piped up with a grin. “He’s sexy!”
“The one from Star Wars?” Let’zi cocked her head and perked up. “I like him!”
“That’s Harrison Ford. This one is Redford… though his hair isn’t red…”
Desi looked around the table at her friends as they started to talk about movies. There was no telling what the Shel would bring, but all the same? Life went on…
At least for one more day.

"You lose."
"Shut up."
"Please, gentlemen. Let's play like honorable fellows."
The bustle of the small but well-attended parlor was repeatedly interrupted by the rumbling voice of a man at the card table. He drank from his tankard in great gulps and then wiped foam from his huge red beard. The cards almost disappeared in his huge paws and his face looked as if it had been hewn from an erratic block. The other gentlemen at the table seemed more well-groomed; the man with finely cut features and in the well-fitting suit was sipping his glass and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. The third man at the table was visibly nervous; he kept eyeing his opponents while restlessly moving the cards in his hands. His pale skin and ice-blue eyes made an unpleasantly cold impression.
A fourth man stepped up to the table. "Can you still get into the game?" The red-haired giant eyed the man. Tall and slender, the plainly dressed newcomer seemed to make an ambiguous impression. For although he smiled, his eyes remained cold and calculating.
"Please, sit down," the man in the suit replied. He mirrored the newcomer: even smiling, his eyes remained cold and hard. "My brother is quite suspicious. Probably because he wants to keep up the impression that he's good at cards, to people who don't know him." The giant snorted. "You'd better say that..."-he threw his cards face up on the table-"...before I defeat you." The suit leaned forward with interest. "Truly, you still manage to surprise me. Unfortunately..."-he now also laid his cards face up on the table-"...only with your stupidity." The giant stood up with a jerk.
"P-p-please, gentlemen," stammered the third. "N-n-no need to spoil this fine e-e-evening."
The giant sparkled at the men at the table one after the other. Finally, he sat down again and smiled. So mischievous, it could send a chill down your spine. "Of course. Because my dear brother is cheating again." The suit paused, glass to his lips. "My best, do you think that after all this time I don't know your tricks by now?" The gentleman addressed set down the glass. He smoothed his suit.
"Even if you're a god, at some point you run out of ideas. Then you get... sucked dry."
The two men eyed each other like wolves. After a while, the suit shook his head. "What my dear brother meant to express this way, without any eloquence, is that eventually you become predictable." He glanced at the newcomer. "Isn't that right, Hades?"
All at once, silence fell in the parlor. The guests set down their tankards and looked toward the gaming table. The waiters slowly backed away from the group of four. The god of the dead smiled undiminished. He placed his hands on the table and watched as the pub resumed business, albeit a bit more subdued now. "Well, I thought I could stay undetected a little longer. What gave me away?"
"You can't mask the stench of the dead," the suit hissed. "You should know all about it," Hades replied impassively. "You two have filled my kingdom well, haven't you?"
The brothers exchanged a glance. "I've heard a lot about you guys. The eel-smooth and the lout. The brothers of terror. The god of mischief and the god of thunder. Loki and Thor."
The parlor fell silent once more. Now everyone turned to the table. For although the tavern sometimes entertained unusual guests, such high attendance was rare. Moreover, the gods of the Northmen were especially feared. Hades turned to the man on his right, who had almost disappeared under the table. "And, what is your name, my best?"
The man sat back down in his chair and cleared his throat. "P-p-people call me A-a-aquilon."
Thor began to laugh uproariously. "Truly, a great troop," he roared. "Thunder, Mischief, Death, and Northwind sitting at the same table, thrashing cards!" Loki joined in the laughter. The other two just sat there; Hades quiet, Aquilo trembling. When the brothers stopped laughing, Hades intertwined his fingers and said, "Strictly speaking, I'm just the ruler of the dead. Thanatos is not as sociable as I am."
Loki picked up his glass again and pointed it in the direction of the God of the Dead. "I'd say he's quite affable, especially if you hide his little sickle for fun." Hades smiled coldly. "Oh, I can remember, god of 'mischief'. Human civilization almost broke apart."
"Oh, what do you care about people," Thor rumbled, finishing his tankard in one gulp. "More beer!"
"Yeah, what do we care about humans," Hades muttered half aloud. Loki gave him an amused look. Hades did not dignify him with one. He knew that behind the fine clothes and finely honed speech hid a monster, that it was as cruel as it was cowardly.
Hades pulled a deck of cards from one of his pockets. "I think with these cards we'd have a good chance of playing a fair game. Interested?"
Loki leaned forward. "Ah. This could be fun. Where did you dig these up?" Hades placed the stack in the center of the table. "All our power is scattered all over the world," he replied. "You just have to do some searching."
The hours dragged on. The gods took turns with the victories, without anyone being able to defend his previous victory. As time passed, the gods grew more and more discouraged; Thor's hand clenched into a fist. The smile of Loki turned sour. Only Hades seemed to be in good spirits and drank wine by the glassful. Finally, Thor thundered his fist on the table and boomed, "This is bullshit!"
"No, these are the playing cards of Nike," Hades replied impassively. He sorted his cards without haste. "As the goddess of victory, fairness was very important to her. Victoria, on the other hand..."-he turned to the pale Aquilon-"...never paid attention. Only victory against the enemies of Rome counted for her; how, she didn't care." Loki raised an eyebrow.
"It sounds like you disagree," he interjected into the lecture. Hades shrugged his shoulders. "I am not the god of war. I only judge its sacrifices."
"And dead gods," Thor growled. His hand clenched around the tankard and with a crash it shattered. The entire tavern flinched.
Only Hades smiled at the giant opposite him. "Yes, also fallen gods. You should know that Odin is not in Valhalla. Nor in Elysium. No, he is hauling a mountain in the fields of perdition. On a field from which the arrowheads sprout like the grass after the first spring rains."
Thor jumped up. His chair crashed to the floor and a scream went through the room. The Thunder God's tangled red hair seemed to stick out from his head like wires. "Don't you dare to mock Father!" he thundered. With his right hand, he reached behind his black cloak. Everyone held their breath. The moment seemed to stretch into infinity.
"Save the theatrics, brother," Loki sighed suddenly. Everyone stared at him, aghast. The god of mischief put his feet up on the table. "Everyone knows that your oh-so-precious hammer is now under a lot of stone. Now somebody pick up the north wind."
Hades got up and put Aquilon back on his chair. After a few pats, he opened his eyes again. "Oh, my goodness," Loki muttered, rolling his eyes. "Tell me, North Wind: why are you here?" Aquilon sat up straight and did not answer. With an uncertain look, he tippled at his beer and seemed to have his mind elsewhere.
Hades sat down again. Thor also took his seat again, while he growled some crude curses into his beard. Hades now also put his feet on the table and leaned back. "Forgive me for the grand entrance. But I thought you should experience it for yourselves one day: What would have happened in the old days?" Thor contorted his face into a fearsome grimace. "Then I would have reduced you to a charred stain."
The God of the Dead pointed at him with his glass. "That's right. But now Mjölnir lies under one of the greatest temples of the Abrahamites."
"The Christians?" asked Auqilon suddenly. He seemed to have emerged from his thoughts and looked at Hades with those strange ice-blue eyes. Hades waved it off.
"Christians, Jews, Muslims. All the same. But they are two billion people. Two. Billions. Their God has so much power that it would be enough to draw his attention to us to erase us from existence. Look at us. Hiding in little nooks and crannies so as not to be found. Beat eternity to death. But we were once the rulers of this world. And woe to those who did not revere and fear us!"
Loki turned one of the cards from Nike's deck between his fingers. "So, what, if one may inquire, are you up to now?" he asked, amused. Hades was now smiling as slyly as the God of Thunder and said, "We will remind the people what they once feared us for."
Loki laughed uproariously. "The God of the Dead has a surprising sense of humor." He tossed the card on the table and tapped it with his index finger. "The Avenger. Strange that I have drawn that very card from this deck. You're not an avenger. At the very highest, the one who picks up the leftovers after revenge is done."
Hades shook his head. "You'd better stick to joking around. You're no good as a soothsayer." Loki's smile froze. "The red-haired force of nature to your left is one."
Everyone turned to the thunder god, who, however, was very busy with his beer mug. He set it down and belched thunderously. "What is it?"
Hades rolled his eyes. "Oh, what the hell." He pulled a bag from behind his chair. With a flourish, he tossed it to Thor. "I know your hammer is your very favorite treasure, but the lightning bolts suit you." Thor opened the bag and as he peered inside, his grin grew wild. "I suggest you get your hammer back first. Leave a lasting impression. Then we'll get to work."

Wrote some stuff down in a Google Doc every night, so it ended up being super long and rambly. Hopefully I was able to cut it down at least a little bit. I wasn't sure if I could leave references to individual businesses or Airbnb experiences in, so please let me know if I need to remove those.
I planned this trip 2 weeks before I had to leave, so I was in a huge rush. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without everyone’s help here and on the Discord! It was my first time traveling solo, so I was a little more neurotic about it than usual. Also I don’t know how accurate the steps/distance on iOS is, but I figure there’s enough internal consistency to compare between days.
Some personal highlights
Tokyo

• Check out some listening bars if you’re down for a low key night with more of a focus on listening to music than socializing: Grandfather’s, Bar Martha, Bar Track, Ginza Music Bar
• Yoshikami is a pretty interesting (albeit pricey) place for dinner. It’s apparently been there since the 1960s and has a nice diner vibe.

Kyoto

• Otagi Nenbutsuji, Adashino Nenbutsuji, and Nanzenji were my personal favorites.
• Fu-ka near Ginkakuji for fantastic omurice.

Osaka

• I loved Osaka in general for its mixture of being laidback with big city vibe
• Izakaya crawl with Taka was amazing (https://www.airbnb.com/experiences/1018635). It’s true that you can plan a night of izakayas for free, but honestly I found the cost pretty worth it. Taka was a really cool guy and made for an incredibly memorable night.
• Okonomiyaki Chitose for okonomiyaki. Great food and great staff.

Monday, May 29 - arriving in Tokyo

• 3pm - Haneda Airport arrival. Withdrew money after immigration, picked up Suica card, then traveled to Ueno Station (close to hostel) to pick up JR Pass due to 1 hour line at airport. In hindsight, I obviously should’ve gotten the JR Pass the following day, but I was jetlagged and exhausted and wasn’t thinking. When I arrived at the hostel, I ended up falling asleep and decided to just start my trip officially the following morning.

Reflections If you’re an anxious planner or traveler like me, definitely don’t plan anything specific on the first day. There’s a good chance your plans will get derailed. The JR Pass line at the airport is often super long and if you can, try to stop by an office close to where you’re staying or near one of your stops.
Walked: 6540 steps / 3.1 miles
Tuesday, May 30 - Tokyo (Akihabara)

• 7am - Yoshinoya for breakfast (Random, but I wanted to try all 3 of the big gyudon places by the end of the trip just because. Even as a big completionist, this wasn’t worth it at all.)
• 8am - Walked around Ueno Park, then Ameya Yokocho.
• 11am - Gyukatsu Motomura for lunch at Ameyoko, which was absolutely incredible.
• 12pm - Walked around Akihabara and checked out the “Weird vending machines” on Google Maps. It was definitely weird. Would recommend if you’re kind of drawn to weird shit, and the hostel staff found it super entertaining when I showed them everything.
• 3pm - I ended up moving through Akihabara pretty fast (I have a bad habit of not being able to take my time with these things). I decided to stop by some places in Ginza, like the Sembikiya flagship store and the Okuno building (Room 306).
• 6pm - I was still pretty jetlagged, so I ate some dinner with people at the hostel and hung out with the hostel residents and staff.
• 10:30pm - Stopped by a convenience store to grab something for breakfast the next morning.

Reflections
Having a list of restaurants or specific foods (e.g. tempura, okonomiyaki) to pull from can be super helpful in being slightly flexible/spontaneous but also settling some of your (my) neuroticism. I had planned to check out Gyukatsu Motomura elsewhere but since it’s a chain and I had no idea what to eat, it helped me make a decision for lunch.
It can be a good idea to have an “overflow list” of things to do in certain areas. I thought I’d spend more time in Akihabara but I think I was still getting the hang of traveling/exploring without rushing around.
Walked: 27728 steps / 12.9 miles
Wednesday, May 31 - Kyoto (Nishiki Market / Department Store food floors / Kiyomizu-dera) * 7:30am - Shinkansen from Tokyo to Kyoto * 10:15am - Walked to hostel and suitcase wheels ripped off on the way there (still left it there for storage). Original plan was to wander Nishiki Market and the food floors for Takashimaya Department Store and Fujii Daimaru, which I did for a bit. Then got a new suitcase at the large tax free store a block down, and walked back to the hostel to put my suitcase there. * 3pm - Check in with a new suitcase and head to Kiyomizudera. Three hours was more than enough time for me to wander around Sannenzaka, Ninnenzaka, and Kiyomizu-dera. I’m also not someone that is great at lingering to stop and smell the roses, though. * 6:30pm - Try to line up for Menya Inoichi. The line was already closed for dinner, so I stopped by Nakau for some fast gyudon/tonkatsu instead.
Reflections
Have backup plans for your meals, list out some ideas in the area but expect some of those to be derailed.
You might need an eye mask even if you splurge on a private room in a hostel. The blinds were paper thin here so I woke up at like 4-5am.
Walked: 26290 steps / 12.2 miles
Thursday, June 1 - Kyoto (Arashiyama / Ginkakuji / Philosopher’s Path / Eikan-do / Nanzenji / Gion) This was the day I was prepared to walk the most because of the itinerary. It ended up being pretty packed, but I think it worked out decently well. Both of these things would’ve been better off unrushed as maybe 2/3 of a full day, so I would’ve split this up into 2 days if I could have.

• 7am - Breakfast at a convenience store, then taxi to Otagi Nenbutsuji at 7:30am (opens at 8). It isn’t the cheapest option, but there also isn’t a great alternative. It was pretty empty and a great place to start the day.
• 9am - Walked to Adashino Nenbutsuji, which was also fairly empty but had a beautiful bamboo area that honestly was basically as good as the Arashiyama grove for pictures.
• 10am - Walked to Tenryuji, which included the Saga-Toriimoto Preserved Street along the way, then did the Arashiyama Walking Tour from Inside Kyoto, which was a great way to see a little bit of everything (https://www.insidekyoto.com/arashiyama-bamboo-grove-guide-walking-tour).
• 12:30pm - Walking tour led me to Togetsukyo Bridge, where I could easily bus over to the Ginkakuji area.
• 1:30pm - Grabbed lunch at Fu-ka, which was a small restaurant run by some very sweet people. The omurice there was amazing, and I would definitely love to go there again someday.
• 2pm - Ginkakuji -> Philosopher’s Path -> Eikan-do -> Nanzenji -> Gion. I was definitely not prepared for how much stuff there was to do at Nanzenji in particular! I definitely could’ve spent 2-3 hours there even rushing around. I ended up not being able to check out the inside of Nanzen-in and the big gate because I ran out of time. Upstairs from the Nanzenji arches there is a great walk to leave Nanzenji when you’re all done (Nanzenji Suirokaku). It takes you past a power station, and then down some abandoned railroad tracks.
• 5:30pm - Went to check out Gion and Pontocho. I couldn’t figure out what to eat for dinner, so I thought I’d give Menya Inoichi another shot. It was pretty early but the line was closed again. There was an amazing fried chicken place nearby called Loco Chicken (would definitely recommend too!)
• 7pm - Checked out Yasaka Shrine and Gion again now that the sun was down. It was nice but admittedly underwhelming after all the amazing temples I had seen. I was originally going to go to an izakaya for the night or experience some nightlife, but I was pretty tired and decided to call it a night.

Reflections
Even if you’re a rusher like I am, Nanzenji especially can take some time. Otagi Nenbutsuji and Adashino Nenbutsuji are a little out of the way, but definitely worth it. The preserved street isn’t all that exciting, but it is along the way from Adashino Nenbutsuji to Tenryuji.
Menya Inoichi apparently closes pretty damn early wtf, possibly due to running out of their limited supply of wagyu. Loco Chicken was suuuuper good though. I guess there see a lot of great food options and planning meals in advance should only be if there’s a restaurant I really want to stop by (e.g. Fu-ka).
Walked: 33577 steps / 16.4 miles
Friday, June 2 - Kyoto / Nara / Osaka

• 7am - Got up to go to Fushimi Inari Taisha. We were on the edge of a typhoon (apparently the landslide zones of Kizugawa were being evacuated?) so it was pouring rain, which meant it was really empty on the actual walk to the summit.
• 10am - Kintetsu train to Nara Park. It was pouring there too, but the deer were still out and about to get their food from visitors. I was a little tired at this point since my feet were soaked through, so I went to check out Todaiji and only took a brief walk around Nara Park before heading to my hostel in Osaka, so I could get my shoes washed and dried at a nearby laundromat.
• 8pm - I did an Airbnb bar crawl (https://www.airbnb.com/experiences/4388157) in the Dotonburi area which was awesome as a solo traveler because I got the chance to meet other people much more easily and check out some local spots I realistically wouldn’t have gone to (or at least navigated easily). The guide was fantastic and fun, and it was a really nice way to get an introduction to Osaka nightlife. I would definitely recommend doing this on your first night if you want to spend some time in Dotonburi! You can find the listing for that one here: . One of the places we stopped by was called the Misono building, which had a bunch of interesting and quirky bars.

Walked: 27023 steps / 12.4 mi
Saturday, June 3 - Osaka (shopping streets and Dotonburi)

• 10am - Took a look around Denden Town and all the different streets in Osaka near Dotonburi (Kuromon Ichiba, Hozenji Yokocho, Ebisu Bashi-Suji, Shinsaibashisuji). I also stopped by the Ebisu Tower Ferris Wheel, which was nice but also not something I’d consider a must-do activity. I imagine it might be even cooler at night when the lights are all on.
• 6pm - I did another izakaya crawl here, and it was AMAZING (https://www.airbnb.com/experiences/1018635)! The guide, Taka, has lived all around the world and has some incredible stories to tell about his life. He worked on farms in remote places in Australia, for instance, that even the Aussie guests were astounded to hear about. The vibe was definitely a lot more chill and not super conservative, if that makes any sense. It was the kind of environment where all the guests felt comfortable asking him how to swear in Japanese after the first round of drinks. If you’re not super uptight about stuff and want the feeling of local nightlife with some friends, this is a must-do in my opinion! Taka was such a cool guy and this was an unforgettable once-in-a-lifetime experience. We stopped by to do some karaoke at the end, which I felt was mandatory since we were at its birthplace.

Reflections
Taka brought us to one of the streets that I completely missed in my research, which was Tenshinbashi-sushi. It’s supposedly the longest shopping arcade in all of Japan, at 2.6km long. Definitely something to check out!
Walked: 25782 / 11.8 miles
Sunday, June 4 - Osaka (Shinsekai, Abeno Harukas)

• 10:30am - Was starting to get pretty tired by this point so I slept in again, and got to Shinsekai around 10:30. I realized how much I loved the vibe of Osaka, which seemed much more laidback than the other big cities. I remember there was an adorable off leash puppy walking around one of the shopping streets, and a bunch of old people pulled out their phones and started chasing it down to take cute pictures. I might be totally off the mark from my few days’ impression of other big cities, but that just felt kind of unique to me.
• 11:15am - Lined up outside Okonomiyaki Chitose so I could get food there when they opened. Fantastic okonomiyaki, and the owner and staff were super great as well. They chatted with me a bit and joked around with each other while making the food in front of us. Great experience.
• 1pm - Went to Tsutenkaku to look around and check out the viewing area. It also had this big slide that you could pay to go down, which was quite fun too.
• 2:30pm - Walked over to Abeno Harukas to check out the observatory here. The view was fantastic and they also had a fun little VR bungee jump station where they put you on a tilt table and simulate a jump from the observatory area. Didn’t have time to check out the helipad because I had a timed ticket for the aquarium (which didn’t end up being necessary, it wasn’t super busy at this time).
• 4:30pm - Osaka Aquarium! I honestly considered skipping this and I don’t think it was absolutely unmissable, but it was a fun time. I really tried to take my time here but it only took 2 hours.
• 6:30pm - Grabbed dinner at nearby Tempozan Marketplace, then went on the Tempozan Ferris Wheel (waited for one of the clear bottom carriages). Another fun activity that I wouldn’t categorize as a must-do, but definitely worth it if you’re in the area.

Walked: 20954 / 9.6 miles
Monday, June 5 - Hakone This is the part of the trip that I embarrassingly botched, but considering I had less than 2 weeks to plan the whole thing while working full time, I’m trying not to give myself too much shit for it.

• 10:30am - Arrive at Odawara Station and leave luggage in locker there (packed a day bag). Transfer to the train that will eventually take me to Gora Station
• 12pm - Gora Station. Grab a quick lunch at some random cafe and walk over to the Open Air Museum.
• 2pm - Realized I spent too long at the museum and rush to continue the loop. Spend about 30-45 minutes at Owakudani.
• 3:50pm - End up waiting at Togendai until 4:25pm for the next pirate ship.
• 4:50pm - Arrive at Motohakone and decide I’ll do the quick walk to Hakonemachi and catch a cab to my ryokan (checkin before 6 if I want to make it in time for dinner). My big mistake here was not noticing that the taxi stand was empty already by this time.
• 5:10pm - Realize I’ve screwed myself at Hakonemachi and decide to take the Tozan Bus to another major stop to get a taxi. Yunnessen seemed like a good bet but the taxi stand was once again totally empty. Ended up wandering around for about 20 minutes and managed to flag a stray taxi.
• 6pm - Check in and realize my dumb ass accidentally booked without the dinner option and that I could’ve taken the long way to the ryokan after all.
• 7pm - Stop by a nearby kaiseki place for dinner. They seemed a bit wary about having me eat there and really emphasized that this was a set menu that took a long time (probably had bad experiences with tourists in the past?).
• 8pm - Get cleaned up and head to the onsen before bed

Walked: 17975 / 8.2 miles
Reflections If you really want to stay in Hakone for only one night and one day, I would recommend checking into your hotel/ryokan the night before and relaxing there, which gives you the next full day for exploring the city. YMMV of course since I did get to Hakone in the late morning, but I think doing the loop then ryokan will inevitably feel like it’s cutting into ryokan time.
Even though the Hakone transportation system is great, things like the Tozan Bus line can have long lines and alternative/workaround routes like in the big cities don’t really exist. Tight schedules are tough to stick to, and I nearly got stranded because I stood at one of the taxi stops around 5pm and it became clear that no one was going to be coming by.
Booking.com has a lot of ryokans listed as minimum 2 people (I just bit the bullet and decided to splurge), but the staff at Senkyoro were confused about why I paid for 2 instead of 1. Could be good to try to check with the ryokan directly in case you can save some money when booking.
Tuesday, June 6 - Tokyo (Shinjuku, Shibuya)

• 6:30am - Leave for Odawara Station because I had to meet with a relative in the morning (like I said, definitely could’ve scheduled this better). Definitely misplanned this leg of the trip, and didn’t maximize my time in Hakone at all.
• 10:30am - After dropping off luggage at Asakusa Station locker near my hostel, met up at Shinjuku Gyoen, then walked around and grabbed lunch at Omoide Yokocho. Also stopped by Kabukicho and Golden Gai just to look around.
• 1:30pm - Originally planned to spend more time at Shinjuku and go to Shibuya the following day but I realized I didn’t have anything left to do. Walked to Shibuya and checked out the Hachiko Statue and Harajuku. Stopped by Iyoshi Cola. Shibuya Sky tickets were sold out so I had to come back the following day for my original reservation.
• 5pm - Hang out at Grandfather’s before dinner. Great place for people interested in listening bars!
• 6pm - Head back to my hostel (K’s House Tokyo Oasis) to check in, then swing over to Sensoji and Nakamise-dori to check out at night.
• 7:30pm - Grab dinner at Yoshikami, a Japanese style Western restaurant. Had a really good beef stew and cream corn potage. Went here in passing but would definitely recommend stopping by if you’re in the area.

Walked: 27632 / 12.8 miles
Wednesday, June 7 - Tokyo (Shibuya Sky, Akihabara, Bar Martha/Track) I spent a good chunk of my life in Shanghai, China, so I think the appeal of the big city stuff was a little lost on me (not a huge big city guy). In hindsight, I definitely didn’t need to allocate this many days for Tokyo. I definitely should’ve gone further to other areas for day trips that were recommended on the Discord, like Shimokitazawa, Jiyuugaoka, Koenji, Kamakura/Enoshima, Honmonji Ikegami, Yokohama, Nikko, or Fujikamaguchiko.

• 10am - Slept in and explored Nakamise-dori a bit after. Grabbed an early lunch and headed over to Shibuya for my Shibuya Sky reservation.
• 12:40pm - Shibuya Sky for a little over an hour. I wouldn’t consider a must-do, but it’s definitely a nice spot to get a good view of the city. Pretty similar vibe to Abeno Harukas (Harukas 300).
• 2pm - Headed to Akihabara to mess around for a little more and get some gifts for friends. Checked out all the different arcades and peeked at some rhythm gamers in their element.
• 6pm - Headed to Ebisu to grab dinner. Found a Japanese style Italian restaurant called “Uncle Tom” (Google translated name), used Google Lens to translate the photos of the menu and just pointed and ordered.
• 7pm - Stopped by Bar Martha, which was one of my personal must-sees. Some of the reviews online were pretty scathing, and I’m not sure if the staff have just mellowed out in recent years or the reviewers lacked self-awareness, but it was a great experience. You’re not allowed to talk too loudly or otherwise be disruptive (or take photos), but that’s really just your typical listening bar. The Tannoys sounded fantastic!
• 8pm - Went to Bar Track to check it out as well. A little bit more laidback than Bar Martha but with the same rules. Also a great spot.

Walked: 21181 steps / 10.3 miles
Thursday, June 8 - Tokyo

• 10am - Stopped by Tsukiji Outer Market to check it out. There was a fruit stall that sold a cup of Shine muscat grapes for about 2000 yen (super expensive but worth it just to try - they really were pretty amazing). Ended up meeting up with someone on the Discord for lunch, and we wandered Ginza for the Uniqlo and Muji flagship stores.
• 3pm - Split up with Discord buddy because he wanted to head to Shibuya but I had dinner reservations at 5pm. Wandered around a bit more and checked out Kabukiza and then went to Mantensushi Hibiya for 5pm omakase.
• 7pm - Went to Ginza Music Bar. A little difficult to find but very much worth the visit. It was relatively empty but it was a fantastic spot to round out my listening bar visits. It had a little more of a typical bar-like atmosphere but the music and sound system were just as amazing.
• 8pm - Head back to hostel to pack. Grabbed some last second ramen at Asakusashoten on the way back. Needed to be a little more intentional about cash usage here because I wanted to use it all up before leaving. After factoring in my subway and Skyliner costs, I ended up with 210 yen in my pocket and 7 yen in my Welcome Suica (I really should’ve just gotten a regular one) the next morning before my flight, and spent 200 yen at one of the massage chairs in Narita.

Walked: 19530 / 8.9 miles
Thursday, June 9 - Flight out from Tokyo

Cast of Characters:
Kevin Eggs– A bumbling wannabe Hibachi chef fresh out of culinary arts school
Mr. Kritt – Restaurant Manager and owner of Moriyuki’s Grill.
Male restaurant patron
Female restaurant patron
Nick the chef – A drunken hibachi cook who gets himself fired. He eventually carries out an armed robbery to compensate for his lost earnings.
Synopsis:
A clueless and reckless culinary arts attempts hibachi cooking at his first job without much success.
Stage setting:
A kitchen/bar island counter top is positioned at center stage. Three bar stools line the front while a stove/grill top remains partially hidden behind the counter. Above the counter is a dangling Japanese paper lantern.
(Lighting illuminates the main stage area. Male and female patrons are separately seated on their respective barstools with each one positioned opposite the other at the end of each counter corner. They are partially facing the audience with their gazes focused on the main chef behind the counter. Main chef Nick is fully facing the audience and is performing his tasks poorly under a drunken stupor. Both restaurant patrons are grimacing and recoiling nervously due to his recklessness. Kevin enters stage right with a confused expression written on his face.)
(Nick is swaying left and right on his feet while clumsily waving a meat cleaver in one hand and an empty bottle in the other)
NICK
So, you two (hiccup) wanna see me make a chicken hand sandwich? (hiccup)
MALE PATRON
(Grimacing and scared) Please, no. We just wanted a vegetable stir fry and steak. Maybe coming here was a bad idea.
(Kevin tries to grab someone’s attention, but no one listens.)
KEVIN
Um excuse me?
FEMALE PATRON
(Also grimacing) You make a chicken and ham sandwich?
(Nick is aimlessly clattering his cleaver against the grill/stove top.)
NICK
Not chicken and ham, (hiccup) chicken and hand sandwich! Now put your pretty little hand on the cutting board and I’ll show ya.
FEMALE PATRON
(Shrieking) No!
(Mr. Kritt frantically enters stage left and interrupts the chaotic scene. He is shaking his fist in outrage)
MR. KRITT
(Furiously) Nick! You’ve been drinking again! How many times have I warned you that if I catch you intimidating our customers while under the influence, I would throw your drunken ass out of my establishment!
KEVIN
Um, pardon me?
(Kevin is still ignored.)
(Nick points his meat cleaver at Mr. Kritt.)
NICK
Okay dude, you need to chill.
MR. KRITT
Don’t you point that thing at me!
(Mr. Kritt pries the cleaver out of Nick’s hand by the handle and drops it on the countertop. He then points his finger directly towards the right stage exit.)
MR. KRITT
You’re fired! Get out! You’re a menace to the patrons and the establishment.
(After a pause, Mr. Kritt steps towards Nick, seizes him by the back collar of his shirt and pants and proceeds to forcibly eject him from the building. Nick is dragged to the right exit. Kevin side-steps out of their way.)
MR. KRITT
Get the hell out of my restaurant! Out! Out! Out! Out!
(Nick is shoved out the right stage exit. He is still clutching his empty bottle. Mr. Kritt turns his focus to Kevin)
MR. KRITT
What do you want?!
(Kevin stammers through Mr. Kritt’s annoyed gaze. He produces a certification paper.)
KEVIN
I…I’m sorry. My name’s Kevin Eggs and I’m looking for a job. I’m fresh out of culinary arts school and was looking for a hibachi kitchen position…these are my credentials…
(Mr. Kritt swipes the paper out of Kevin’s hand, glances over it for a second, and hands it back to him. He is much calmer at this point, but still retains a firm tone of voice.)
MR. KRITT
Congratulations, Kevin. You’re hired. Welcome to Moriyuki’s Hibachi Bar and Grill. You can start now.
(He leads Kevin back to the Island stove countertop and hands him a togue and apron.)
KEVIN
Wait. No formal interview. No questions asked? Thank you, Mister…
(Both men firmly shake hands)
MR. KRITT
…Kritt. Jay Kritt. Restaurant owner.
(Mr. Kritt shifts his attention to the petrified patrons who are perched at the edge of their barstools.)
MR. KRITT
My sincerest apologies to the both of you for what just happened. The misconduct you just witnessed does not reflect our company policy. I assure you that this will not happen again. Perhaps if you two choose to come here again, I would be most happy to offer you both a complimentary dinner on the house? I understand if you do not wish return here.
(Both patrons relax and lighten up a little. They periodically sip from their water glasses)
MALE PATRON
No, as a matter of fact, I think we’ll stick around and give our order another shot. It is, after all, complimentary.
FEMALE PATRON
And I am curious to see how this new chef will perform.
MR. KRITT
I assure you that you will not be disappointed.
(He shoots Kevin a stern glance and addresses him in a strict tone. Mr. Kritt also points his menacing index finger towards Kevin.)
MR. KRITT
One little foul-up from you, and you’re out of here! Oh, and by the way, take your shoes off. We need to keep a ‘Japanese’ feel to the atmosphere. (Note that Mr. Kritt uses air quotes to emphasize the word ‘Japanese’ in his sentence.)
KEVIN
Oh, sorry about that, sir.
(Keven bends over behind the counter to take his shoes off while Mr. Kritt exits stage left.)
KEVIN
Sooooooo, what did you two order?
FEMALE PATRON
We already placed our orders earlier. The last chef put our orders under the counter.
(Kevin bends over to look beneath the stovetop and remains invisible until he finds two pieces of paper and emerges back into view. He holds up each piece of paper and reads them aloud.)
KEVIN
Ah! One order of soy stir fry, and another order of fried flank steak with scallops. Coming right up!
(Kevin bangs his fist on the countetable surface and shouts out a command. Both patrons appear startled and tense up every time he does this)
KEVIN
Ahem! Tomato!
(An offstage hand from behind the scenes tosses Kevin a tomato. He catches it and places it on the counter, then bangs his fist again.)
KEVIN
Cucumber!
(Offstage hand tosses Kevin a cucumber which he sets down. He bangs his fist and repeats the process)
KEVIN
Onion!
(Kevin catches an onion, places it next to the other vegetables, and bangs his fist again.)
KEVIN
Meat!
(A hand tosses him a piece of steak. Kevin catches it, but almost drops it as it constantly slips and slides in his hand.)
KEVIN
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Got it! (Chuckling) Heheh! Slippery little piece of steak, ain’t ya? Don’t worry fellow customer, I successfully grabbed your meat and now I’m going to beat it for being naughty little sucker.
MALE PATRON
(Sounding disturbed) Please do not say that ever again.
(Kevin realizes his Freudian slip)
KEVIN
Ooops. That didn’t sound right.
(After setting the fillet on the counter. He pulls two spatulas out of a cupboard beneath the stove counter top. As the patrons gradually ease up from their muscle tension, Kevin begins twirling the spatulas in each hand. As he twirls each one, he loses his coordination and drops them both on the surface.)
KEVIN
(Smiling) Sorry. First day.
(Kevin takes both spatulas and uses them like percussion instruments. He uses synchronized hand movements and coordinated arm crossing gestures to bang out a tune on the hard grill surface using the kitchen utensils. He loses his groove and momentum by accidentally flipping a spatula out of his grasp and onto the ground behind him.)
KEVIN
(Grinning) My bad. Oh well, guess I’ll have to cook with just one utensil.
(Kevin wipes off the stovetop surface with a rag.)
KEVIN
So, how long have you two known each other?
MALE AND FEMALE PATRONS
(Unison) We’re not together.
KEVIN
Oh, sorry. What’s your story, then?
(Kevin looks at the man patron as he begins chopping the onion on a cutting board)
MALE PATRON
I’ve been negotiating this multi-million-dollar contract all day with some of our biggest partners from Japan. It was a tough one alright, but once you get past the language barriers and persuade those electronic geeks to start pushing their signatures on every certified document, It’s a success story. Ironically, I thought to myself, why not celebrate this victory at a Japanese themed eatery to make things a bit more apropos? The guys at the office said -
KEVIN
(In a sing-song voice) Bo-oring! What’s your story, miss?
(Kevin shifts his eyes to the female patron. The male patron shuts up and scowls at Kevin)
FEMALE PATRON
Me? Oh, well…my boyfriend broke up with me and…I loved him so much…
(Female patron starts sniffling and crying. Kevin starts sniffling and tearing up as well due to the onion fumes)
KEVIN
Yeah?
FEMALE PATRON
He told me that he would be my soulmate, forever. And then last night, he dumped me for some French slut! So here I am, eating alone again…
(Female Patron breaks out in tears. Kevin follows suit.)
FEMALE PATRON
(Emotionally Distraught) I mean, what do French girls have to offer over us American women? Looks? Wit? Charm? Non-stop steamy jungle sex? Well fuck you, Sean! Fuck you! Oh, I’m sorry cook Kevin. Did I upset you? You seem so sensitive and empathetic to my feelings right now. That’s so sweet of you.
KEVIN
(Sobbing) (*sniff. Sniff\)* No! It’s just these stupid onions!
(Female Patron drops her head in disappointment.)
FEMALE PATRON
Oh…
KEVIN
I sound like a wuss right now. I’m a badass hibachi chef, not a wuss. I’ll prove it to you guys by karate chopping this onion with my hand!
(Kevin raises his hand in flat, vertical knife motion above his head and brings his hand down hard on the cutting board.)
KEVIN
(Yells) Hiiyah!
(Kevin’s hand chop makes contact with the remaining whole onion. Instead of slicing it in half, the onion slides off of the counter and onto the floor.)
KEVIN
Dammit.
(Kevin pauses, then recomposes himself. He slides some of the freshly chopped onions onto the stove)
KEVIN
Now where were we? Oh, yes! The grill. (Cheerfully) I have an idea! Let’s get rid of these long faces and lighten things up! Nobody here should be unhappy.
MALE PATRON
I was happy until you opened you pissed on my parade.
KEVIN
It’s not stir-fry without eggs in it. They don’t call me Kevin Eggs for nothing.
(Kevin retrieves a carton of eggs from a bottom cupboard beneath the stove)
KEVIN
Since I’m sometimes a scatter brain and mess things up, my family used to call me Kevin scrambled eggs. Get it? Scrambled eggs! Ha! Ha! Ha! (laughing)
(Kevin’s laughter quickly dies down as he notices that his joke was received with cold, dead stares. Female patron utters an annoyed, soft groan.)
KEVIN
(Upbeat chuckle) Okay. Here’s a good one. When I went to Hollywood, I bumped into actor Kevin Bacon. Well, he was nice enough to give me his autograph when I asked him for one. And when I did that, my parents called us the breakfast combo. Why? Because his name’s Kevin and so is mine. Only thing is, our last names complement each other nicely. Bacon and Eggs! Arr! Arr! Arr!
MALE PATRON
(Interrupting) Just shut up and cook the damn food already.
KEVIN
Sorry.
FEMALE PATRON
Yeah, enough. When do we get to eat?
KEVIN
(Ecstatically) Hey. Watch this!
(Kevin selects an egg out of the carton. He picks up his spatula and holds it vertically above his head as if to bring it down in a chopping motion. He underhandedly tosses the egg into mid-air in front of him while attempting to split it in the fraction of a second when it remains directly suspended before his face. He does a karate chop shout during in course of action)
KEVIN
Hiyaa!
(Kevin misses the target and swings into an empty space due to poor timing. The egg plummets to the floor and breaks.)
KEVIN
Shit!
(Kevin tosses another egg into midair and repeats the process a second time.)
KEVIN
Hiyaa!
(He swings/chops at a downward angle and misses again. The egg hits the floor. Both patrons cringe at his efforts.)
KEVIN
Shit!
(Kevin tries tossing up an egg a third time, but misses his target. The egg accidentally lands on the male patron’s head. Kevin is sincerely apologetic at first, but can’t help cracking a bad joke last minute. Female Patron covers her mouth in alarm.)
KEVIN
Whoops! I’m so sorry sir! That was an egg-cident.
MALE PATRON
(Angrily) I’ve had enough bullshit for one night! I’m outa here.
(Male Patron storms off the set: exit stage right)
FEMALE PATRON
(Disdainful tone) You really suck at entertainment, don’t you?
KEVIN
C’mon, give me a little credit for trying. It’s my first day here and-
(He breaks off into a panicked exclamation as fumes rise from the vegetables on the stove.)
Oh my God! The food is burning!
(Kevin frantically drops his spatula)
KEVIN
Oh, not again!
(Kevin hurriedly scoops the few veggies on the stove into his hands and onto a plate. After doing so, he realizes that he just burned his hands. He flails the wildly while looking around the room for relief. Unbeknownst to him, Mr. Kritt furiously enters the scene and stands directly behind Kevin with his hands on his hips.)
KEVIN
Owwwww! Ow! Ow! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!
(Kevin submerges his hands into the female patron’s water glass and sighs with relief. She appears to be disgusted)
KEVIN
(sighing) Aaaaaaahhhh…
MR. KRITT
(Loud and agitated) Kevin! You blew it! I turn my back on you for just one second, and bang, I come back to a disaster. Unreliable. You’re fired! Out of here! Gone!
KEVIN
Mr. Kritt, it was just a little mishap. It’s still just my first day here.
MR. KRITT
Out!
(Points to exit)
(At that moment entering from stage right, Nick bursts onto the scene clad in a ski mask and carrying a handgun. Nick points the gun in the direction of Mr. Kritt, female patron, and Kevin. All three appear to be shocked and terrified.)
NICK
(Shouting angrily) Alright all of you! Hands up where I can see them! Get them the fuck up now!
(Everyone raises their hands into the air)
FEMALE PATRON
Oh my God!
MR. KRITT
(Weak and trembling tone) What the hell do you want? I have nothing special to offer.
NICK
Your money, dumbass! Front end register is empty. So I guess I’ll have to try the manager’s office instead.
MR. KRITT
(Moment of Realization) Wait a minute! You’re Nick! I recognize your voice now. I just fired your ass.
NICK
Yeah, that’s right. I’m comin’ back to get what’s mine. No paycheck, remember? So, I guess I gotta take what you owe me by force.
MR. KRITT
I don’t owe you nothin’! You’re a bum who doesn’t deserve a dime even if his life depended on it.
NICK
(More aggressively) Shut the fuck up and get me what I want before I blow your head open!
(Intimidated, Mr. Kritt takes a step back and responds in a shakier tone of voice)
MR. KRITT
Alright. Alright. If it’s money you want, then I’ll lead you back to the office. No hard feelings.
NICK
No, wait. I want something else first. Hey lady, kick your purse over here.
(Nick waves his gun at the female patron. She complies by gradually sliding her purse with her foot towards the direction of Nick)
NICK
Atta girl! Mr. Kritt? Your wallet please.
(Mr. Kritt fishes his wallet out of his pant pocket and nervously tosses it onto the floor)
NICK
(Sneering smile) Ah, last but not least, my replacement. You’re next.
(Kevin gives him a nervous smile)
KEVIN
Actually, I don’t have mine in my pocket. I put it in one of my shoes.
NICK
(Annoyed) Then get it! And no tricks! If I see a knife or a cleaver, you’re dead.
KEVIN
No worries. I won’t do anything.
(Kevin bends over to the point at which he is totally obscured by the entire counter island. Shuffling noises can be heard from behind the surface.)
NICK
What’s taking you so long?
KEVIN
Uh-just a minute! I’ve got it. Nope. That’s not it.
(A spatula is recklessly thrown over the counter top by Kevin, followed by a vegetable.)
NICK
(Uneasily agitated) Hey! Don’t do that! What are you, stupid? Quit it now!
KEVIN
I think I got! No. Not that shoe.
(One of Kevin’s shoes flies out from beneath the countertop and hits Nick in the face, knocking him unconscious. Nick’s eyes crisscross as he slumps to the ground. Mr. Kritt and the female patron exchange relieved facial expressions. Kevin then emerges into view triumphantly holding the other shoe.)
KEVIN
Here it is! Got it! Hey what happened?
MR. KRITT
(Grateful expression) You saved my business and my life. That’s what you did.
FEMALE PATRON
You sure as hell did. Now excuse me while I call the police before I throw up.
(Female Patron pulls out her phone and retrieves her purse before hastily exiting stage right.)
MR. KRITT
What did you have in those shoes?
KEVIN
(In a proud tone) They’re steel toe shoes, Mr. Kritt.
(Mr. Kritt grins while clasping Kevin over the shoulder.)
MR. KRITT
Ya know what, Kevin? Maybe you’re not so bad after all. Sure, you’re a klutz and your jokes stink, but I think I might have a good place for you here. In fact, I’ll give you another chance by training you myself. You’re rehired.
(Kevin returns the grin to his boss)
KEVIN
Really, Mr. Kritt?
MR. KRITT
Sure!
KEVIN
Mr. Kritt I’m never gonna let you down again. We’re gonna have some good times together!
(Kevin violently clasps Mr. Kritt over the shoulder causing him to grunt in pain. In spite of this Mr. Kritt manages to create a half sardonic half sincere grin on his face.)
MR. KRITT
(Grimacing) Yeahhhh...I’m sure we will.
(Lights fade out.)

April 9 - April 26: Tokyo - Nanyo - Hakone - Kyoto - Osaka - Koyasan
We had two main goals for this trip to Japan: eat great food and see cherry blossoms. We had the best of both in the city of Nanyo in Yamagata prefecture. It's not a place that I've ever seen mentioned on Reddit or the western internet, so I wanted to share it with you all here.

What we learned

• Ship your luggage - The airport as well as every convenience store we walked into let us ship our luggage. This made traveling between cities significantly easier, and prices were always very reasonable. For single-night stays, we just packed what we needed for a single day and shipped our suitcases to the subsequent hotel.
• Google Maps is very helpful, but don't trust them for transfer times in public transit. We thought we were transit experts because we live in NYC, but the stations in Japan are even more complicated. Leave early if you need to catch a train.
• Almost all restaurants in Japan are good, but I'm somewhat of food snob. If you're like me, I recommend using Tabelog for reviews to find places that are a bit more special. The scoring is very different from western reviews. In general, anything above a 3.3 is very good. Scores are also significantly biased towards more expensive restaurants, so I'd recommend higher scores for fancier restaurants.
• Fruits and vegetables are relatively expensive and difficult to come by in Japan. We were able to get them at supermarkets, which can usually be found in the basement of any department store. Next time I'm in Japan, I'll consider bringing fiber supplements.
• Cherry Blossoms blooming times are very unpredictable. The Japan Meteorology Agency has a website with up to date cherry blossom predictions of over 1000 locations. Even if it doesn't have the exact cherry blossom site you want to visit, you're definitely going to see something close by. Websites of popular tourist destinations update the status of cherry blossoms as well.
• I recommend that you book hotels within 5 minutes walking distance from well-connected subway stations. A couple of our hotels were 10-15 minutes away from the station we needed to go to, so it was mildly irritating to repeat the same walk so often. In those places, there was actually a closer station, but if we took those, we'd have to transfer to a main station anyways.
• Standard hotel rooms have a double bed, which are about the same size as full sized beds in the US. If you're a move around a lot in your sleep like I do and want your partner to be well-rested, it's worth upgrading to a room that has a larger bed or two twins.
• If you're shopping, don't forget to bring your passport, so that you can get a duty free discount or refund.

Planning

• We booked our Hakone ryokan in January
• In February, we booked 3 fine dining restaurants, hotel in Kyoto, and temple lodging in Koyasan
• Saiho-ji (the moss temple in Kyoto) says that they require you to write an international postcard to request a reservation, and I saw that too late. Fortunately, there was also a Japanese website that let you make reservations, and we filled that out about a month in advanced with the help of Google translate. One of the fields required a Japanese address. We just used a friend's address, but you can probably use a hotel as well.
• Besides that, we booked all our other lodging and a week before our stay or less. A few times this wasn't best decision because our hotels were significantly more expensive this way.
• We left the first week in our trip very flexible, so that we could go somewhere that was in peak bloom during this time. We had a few places in mind, and ended up booking a ryokan in Nanyo the night before our stay there.
• Besides a few bucket list items, we figured that we'd be happy going anywhere. My wife and I made a shared Google map with all the sites that we found interesting without the intention of going to all of them and used that as a guide to choose what was convenient.

Tokyo Highlights

• I bought strawberries from a random department store, and an absurdly priced mango and orange from the Sembikiya flagship store. The strawberries were some of the best I had and worth the price of 1200 yen. The orange was tangier than any other orange we've had. However, you have to peel the thick membrane to fully appreciate it, and even then, I don't think it was worth anywhere close to 3500 yen. The mango was the most expensive at about 12000 yen, and everything about it was perfect. It was fragrant, the skin was thin, the texture was creamy, and it was as sweet as candy. It's hard to believe that this was grown from a plant.
• The real reason to go to Mori Art Museum is the stunning view of Tokyo. The main museum was closed, but we got to see an exhibit of Heatherwick Studio instead, which was more interesting than I expected.
• We loved the garden the Nezu Museum
• We went to Hotel Sara Kinshicho, a love hotel, and it was as fun as it looks on Youtube. The room was both more spacious and cheaper than most of our other hotel rooms. That said, it's a bit out of the way, so you should definitely ship your luggage to your next destination.
• We wanted to go to a conveyor belt sushi restaurant and settled on Kura Sushi. Considering that you're paying $1-$3 per plate, you shouldn't expect the highest quality of fish, but the eel was absolutely incredible. It seemed to be fresh off the grill and it was so saucy and fatty. I honestly enjoyed it more than the eel that I got from a dedicated unagi restaurant.
• The yakitori at New Torigin was amazing, especially the chicken skin. Perfectly charred and crispy.

Nanyo

As I mentioned before, Nanyo was the highlight of our trip. Despite being a small town, it had it's own distinct feeling and cuisine, and I think it deserves more love. I definitely shouldn't have been able to book a last minute ryokan reservation during peak Cherry Blossom season.

• After arriving in Nanyo, we ate some dessert near the station nearby. We then took a train known as the Flower Nagai Line. On the train, you can see cherry blossoms, snowcapped mountains, and pass sleepy villages. We stopped at Koguwa Station.
• There is a famous soba restaurant close by. It was a 30 minute walk, but I was really in the mood for some soba. Unfortunately, we arrived, we found out that the shop is temporarily closed because the owner broke his arms. It was around this time when I think I spotted an eagle catching a snake.
• Fortunately, we still had some sweets leftover and the weather was perfect for walking. We walked to a spot which has a small cherry blossom festival. One of the trees there was over 1200 years old, yet it was still blooming strong!
• We took the Flower line back to Nanyo and checked into our ryokan, Morinoyu. We didn't see any English speakers in their staff, so my wife's basic Japanese was definitely helpful. Service was excellent, despite our communication barrier.
• For dinner, we went to 食楽亭 旭屋, which specializes in beef. Despite going to several more expensive restaurants, this was by far my favorite meal in Japan and one of the top two meals of my life. We had their specialty Shabu Shabu with their local Yonezawa beef. I don't think it was graded A5, but I honestly don't think that mattered as it still had wonderful marbling and melted in your mouth. To eat it, you take a thin slice of beef and wrap it around a bunch of spring vegetables. The mild freshness and crispness of the vegetables perfectly compliments the fatty beef. It's kind of like eating a Korean ssam but in reverse, which is so much better because you primarily taste the beef instead of the vegetable.
• After dinner, we walked around Eboshiyama Park, nearby. It's a hill with hundreds of cherry trees in full blossom. It also features the largest torii made out of a single stone. It was after dark, but they light it up at night which gives the park its own sort of beauty.
• We went back to our ryokan and soaked in the public onsens. The water had a slight sulphurous smell though I think that actually enhances the authenticity of the spring water.
• The following day, we went back to Eboshiyama Park. During the daytime, the park was even more beautiful. It felt like I was walking in Shinkai film. The best part is that there were the perfect number of people. Sometimes, you feel like you have to the park to yourself, but there are still enough to make the atmosphere more lively.

Hakone

• We went up the Hakone Ropeway. Fortunately the sky was clear and we got to see Mt. Fuji on Owakudani. We didn't have time to complete the entire loop, so we turned back from there. If you're in a hurry like us, I definitely recommend taking the bus instead of the train and cable car, which were painfully slow. We barely made it to our ryokan before their last check in time.
• Our ryokan we stayed in was Yama No Chaya. Despite being highly recommended on this sub, I personally would not recommend it. Don't get me wrong. We had fun, and it met 90% of our expectations, but it's fair to expect that extra 10% after spending almost $700. Our meals were rushed, especially breakfast. Our attendant kept on reminding us that check out was at 10:00 am despite having plenty of time. I think they were short-staffed because he always had the expression of being overwhelmed. One of the public onsens had a thin layer of oil in it, which likely came from a guest who didn't shower themselves properly. Our private onsen was beautiful, but they locked the door to the outside because there was construction underneath.
• The Open Air Museum featured a lot of interesting sculptures, and we took the bus there this time.

Kyoto Highlights

• Fushimi Inari is as lovely as it appears on social media. We arrived at 9 am, which we thought was late, but there were fewer people than I expected, especially in the upper area.
• Roketsu is a fun studio where you can make your own indigo textiles. It is much easier than it looks to make something beautiful.
• Saiho-ji is a Japanese Buddhist temple that features a large garden covered in 120 types of moss. Due the limited reservations, our visit was quite peaceful.
• My favorite overall dinner in Kyoto was Soba-no-Mi Yoshimura. They have an English menu, but their Japanese menu has a lot more options, such as the 100% buckwheat soba that I ordered. My wife got the traditional nishin (herring) soba, which was also delicious. The best part was honestly the tempura.
• We had a couple of traditional Kyoto-style kaisekis, and both were excellent. Iharada was a great overall value and service was impeccable. Kiyama was more of a splurge, but also worth the price. Every other tasting menu I've experienced has aimed to present dishes with a wow factor, but each course here elegantly embodied delicacy.

Osaka Highlights

• I've never seen dolphins so active than the ones at the Osaka Aquarium.
• Hajime is a 3 Michelin star restaurant where I had the most exquisite meal I've ever had in my life. Every course was a work of art. I posted a full review on /finedining.
• We had Okonomiyaki and yakisoba at Ajikuraya. It was a tiny fraction of the price of our previous dinner, but equally as memorable.

Koyasan

• Our last stop was Koyasan, a mountain with a Buddhist temple settlement. Honestly, at this point, we were all templed-out, but it still offered a distinct experience from the other ones we've visited.
• We stayed at Ichijo-In, which is a functioning temple and lodging of pilgrims. We aren't religious, but almost all of the other guests seemed to be quite serious. The walls of the temple are quite thin, and it got quite chilly in April, so I'd be cautious if you want to book this in the winter.

Cliff and Neya lounged by the rocky river bank. While Riverrock was a fairly small village by Human standards, it was still more civilization than Cliff cared for. Here was true peace for him—just the plants, the running water, and the head of his closest companion resting on his leg.

“I can tell. My senses aren’t that much worse than yours.” With the slime node gone the local energies were a lot easier to read. He could clearly sense where the temple was, a cold, twisting sensation that made him feel sick to his stomach if he focused on it for too long. “Do you have any idea what’d going on up there?”
She raised her head to look at him.
Cliff scratched behind her ear and she rested her head again. “Sorry, just thought I’d ask. Would be nice to have some idea what we’re going to be walking into tomorrow. But if you don’t know then you don’t know and we’ll find out together.” His tone was light but Cliff was frowning. A temple should be a safe haven, somewhere people could go to escape the harsh realities of their life, mundane or otherwise. That this one had become something to be protected from…it was a perversion.
“There you are, Cliff.” The Were turned to see Vastryd approaching. “The celebration feast will be ready soon. Are you planning to join us? You are two of the guests of honor.”
“In a bit. I wanted to enjoy the scenery for a little longer.”
“I understand, I suppose.” She stood next to them, arms crossed. “You’re not much of a people person, are you?”
“I like people fine. It’s civilization I have a problem with. Everything is so fake, so artificial. It feels wrong to me.”
“I see.”
Cliff looked up at her. “Is something on your mind?”
“Just that we’re something of an odd bunch, aren’t we? A paladin or order, a temperamental mage, a light-fingered Elfling and an anti-social beast man.”
Cliff glared at her.
After a moment of silence she turned towards the lounging pair. “I’m guessing you don’t like being called a ‘beast man’.”
“I’m mostly bothered by the type of person who would call me that.”
“My apologies. I was trying to highlight how different we all are. I’m a little surprised our excursion this morning went as well as it did.”
“I did expect a bit more fire,” the shaman admitted, “but it was just a slime lair. Besides, sometimes it’s the differences between people that make a good team. People can cover each other’s weak points. And different personalities balance each other out.”
“I’ve always found different personalities tend to clash. It’s hard to work with someone who has a different way of doing things.” She stared across the river with a frown.
Cliff chuckled. Maybe he wasn’t the anti-social one here. “That happens too, especially when you can’t see the value of someone else’s methods. I’m just saying that just because it seems like people shouldn’t be able to work well together, doesn’t mean they can’t. It comes down to respect and trust.”
“Respect and trust, you say?” She gave a heavy sigh. “I suppose that’s why I’m relieved Merryn won’t be joining us at the temple. She inspires little of either.”
He seized on the conversational opening. “I wanted to ask you about that. What do you know about this temple anyways?”
“Not nearly enough. The followers of Nax tend to keep to themselves, more than most. I’ve always assumed that they at least held to the same pact any other temple does, to protect and serve as best they can, but after talking to the village elder it seems I may have been wrong to assume so. They have had little to do with the people in this area for a long time.”
Cliff sat in silence for a moment. “Neya and I were just talking about that. Whatever is going on is very big and very bad. That it may not be new is very alarming to hear.”
“You can tell from here?”
“Being attuned to the spirits helps you to also be attuned to the natural energies of the world, and vice versa. It’s easy for us to know when they get twisted in unnatural ways, and they are very twisted right now.”
“And you’re sure it’s coming from the temple?”
“Is the temple northeast of here?”
“Yes.”
“Pretty sure then. We could be wrong, but I somehow doubt it.”
Another sigh from Vastryd. “We’ll need to make sure we’re well prepared before heading up there then. I find myself wishing I knew more about the place. Most religious groups tend to be more outgoing, but a few are insular like the followers of Nax so I never worried about it. Maybe I should have.”
Cliff stood up and rested his hand on her shoulder. “You can’t expect to know everything. There was no reason for you to suspect a problem before now. Maybe there still isn’t, we don’t know yet.”
“I guess you’re right It just bothers me to think that another temple might be the source of a problem.” She looked up at her companion. “Thank you. Maybe you have a point about different personalities.”
“Well I wouldn’t have said it if I thought I didn’t. Come on, let’s see if they’re ready yet. Something smells delicious.”

Cliff and Neya lounged by the rocky river bank. While Riverrock was a fairly small village by Human standards, it was still more civilization than Cliff cared for. Here was true peace for him—just the plants, the running water, and the head of his closest companion resting on his leg.

“I can tell. My senses aren’t that much worse than yours.” With the slime node gone the local energies were a lot easier to read. He could clearly sense where the temple was, a cold, twisting sensation that made him feel sick to his stomach if he focused on it for too long. “Do you have any idea what’d going on up there?”
She raised her head to look at him.
Cliff scratched behind her ear and she rested her head again. “Sorry, just thought I’d ask. Would be nice to have some idea what we’re going to be walking into tomorrow. But if you don’t know then you don’t know and we’ll find out together.” His tone was light but Cliff was frowning. A temple should be a safe haven, somewhere people could go to escape the harsh realities of their life, mundane or otherwise. That this one had become something to be protected from…it was a perversion.
“There you are, Cliff.” The Were turned to see Vastryd approaching. “The celebration feast will be ready soon. Are you planning to join us? You are two of the guests of honor.”
“In a bit. I wanted to enjoy the scenery for a little longer.”
“I understand, I suppose.” She stood next to them, arms crossed. “You’re not much of a people person, are you?”
“I like people fine. It’s civilization I have a problem with. Everything is so fake, so artificial. It feels wrong to me.”
“I see.”
Cliff looked up at her. “Is something on your mind?”
“Just that we’re something of an odd bunch, aren’t we? A paladin or order, a temperamental mage, a light-fingered Elfling and an anti-social beast man.”
Cliff glared at her.
After a moment of silence she turned towards the lounging pair. “I’m guessing you don’t like being called a ‘beast man’.”
“I’m mostly bothered by the type of person who would call me that.”
“My apologies. I was trying to highlight how different we all are. I’m a little surprised our excursion this morning went as well as it did.”
“I did expect a bit more fire,” the shaman admitted, “but it was just a slime lair. Besides, sometimes it’s the differences between people that make a good team. People can cover each other’s weak points. And different personalities balance each other out.”
“I’ve always found different personalities tend to clash. It’s hard to work with someone who has a different way of doing things.” She stared across the river with a frown.
Cliff chuckled. Maybe he wasn’t the anti-social one here. “That happens too, especially when you can’t see the value of someone else’s methods. I’m just saying that just because it seems like people shouldn’t be able to work well together, doesn’t mean they can’t. It comes down to respect and trust.”
“Respect and trust, you say?” She gave a heavy sigh. “I suppose that’s why I’m relieved Merryn won’t be joining us at the temple. She inspires little of either.”
He seized on the conversational opening. “I wanted to ask you about that. What do you know about this temple anyways?”
“Not nearly enough. The followers of Nax tend to keep to themselves, more than most. I’ve always assumed that they at least held to the same pact any other temple does, to protect and serve as best they can, but after talking to the village elder it seems I may have been wrong to assume so. They have had little to do with the people in this area for a long time.”
Cliff sat in silence for a moment. “Neya and I were just talking about that. Whatever is going on is very big and very bad. That it may not be new is very alarming to hear.”
“You can tell from here?”
“Being attuned to the spirits helps you to also be attuned to the natural energies of the world, and vice versa. It’s easy for us to know when they get twisted in unnatural ways, and they are very twisted right now.”
“And you’re sure it’s coming from the temple?”
“Is the temple northeast of here?”
“Yes.”
“Pretty sure then. We could be wrong, but I somehow doubt it.”
Another sigh from Vastryd. “We’ll need to make sure we’re well prepared before heading up there then. I find myself wishing I knew more about the place. Most religious groups tend to be more outgoing, but a few are insular like the followers of Nax so I never worried about it. Maybe I should have.”
Cliff stood up and rested his hand on her shoulder. “You can’t expect to know everything. There was no reason for you to suspect a problem before now. Maybe there still isn’t, we don’t know yet.”
“I guess you’re right It just bothers me to think that another temple might be the source of a problem.” She looked up at her companion. “Thank you. Maybe you have a point about different personalities.”
“Well I wouldn’t have said it if I thought I didn’t. Come on, let’s see if they’re ready yet. Something smells delicious.”

Dédalo moved frantically around the control room, overturning rocks, checking behind the screen, looking for any kind of hidden button. “Ninian, are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me!”
“What do you want me to do, cut her out?!” Ninian gestured to the screen of Perdita’s face.
“There must be a button or lever somewhere here!” Dédalo snapped, refusing to believe there was nothing he could do to help Perdida’s predicament.
Perdida’s mind was occupied, having accessed the system and the dormant data stored in it. As she scanned through memories and visions, the relevant information unscrambled itself for her. Piece by piece, the memories played in series.
Her first memory, the birth of her artificial soul, heralded by the priests that created her as the greatest experiment they have succeeded in. “May the MAKS-0 bring peace to Pieduro forevermore!”
Next were the lives of the Piedurons she was tasked with maintaining peace over. Teaching the children how to use and play with their Temples responsibly, assisting the Piedurons through their everyday lives.
Then watching over the construction of the Ring, the key to unifying and connecting the use of all Temples to a single source.
Then the Piedurons slowly turned their attention to the world around them, visions of expanding past the island. With the construction of the Ring, they had the means of using their Temples much further beyond their island. Tools originally used to create were beginning to be seen as potential tools of destruction and oppression against adversaries. Visions of expansion and conquest filled the mind of a small, but growing population of Piedurons.
“War is not peace.”
“War goes against the idea of maintaining peace.”
“War can not happen if there are no Temples to fight with”
Pedida watched her original decision play out in; the construction of the Ring allowed her to shut down every single connected Temple. What happened after was a terrible oversight, the energy in each Temple overloaded rather than being simply shut down. The Ring that connected the Temples shared and distributed the energy of all temples between each other, but once disconnected they had no way to regulate the remaining excess energy.
The fallout wiped out the Piedurons as a civilization and destroyed the vast majority of Temples. The remaining few priests sealed Perdida away, and that was the last memory she could see in the database.
Perdida’s attention turned toward Electra and 2095, still fighting in the ring, using the carts to chase each other in a perpetual circle. The thought crept into Perdida’s mind; with the Ring under her control, she could turn off the Temples and stop the fight. She could prevent Temples from being used by the wrong hands.
No.
Perdida stopped herself. Not falling into the same logic that her previous self could not reason past. Her journey with Dédalo had allowed her to grow and understand, she would make a different choice this time.
The fight only took a bit longer to finish, the streaks of light made it difficult to tell what was happening, but the fight ended with a chain of explosions and both bodies falling out of their carts.
2095 falls to one knee, glare softening as Electra’s body goes limp while smoking from so many orb explosions. Her stare reaches thousands of yards, still processing her personal discovery before a speeding orb barely grazes her cheek and snaps her back. She sprints to the unconscious body and scoops her up, draping her over her back nestled underneath [Yours Truly] and holds the skater’s arms as she continues dodging to the best of her ability.
Her legacy wouldn’t end in this place, but neither would Electra’s.

2095, with a score of 76 to Electra’s 59!

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	2095	20 (6.5+2) - 10 (4.5+2)
Quality	2095	25 (8-9-8) - 18 (6-6-6)	Reasoning
JoJolity	Tie	21 (7-7-7)- 21 (7-7-7)	Reasoning
Conduct	Tie	10-10	Nothing to report!

Perdida opened a service door for 2095 to escape through, hoisting Electra over he shoulder. With a bit of guidance, 2095 made her way into the control room where they were now all gathered.
After getting everybody settled, Perdida managed to convince Dédalo that she was ok and relayed the story for the rest of them to hear.
“So I have a new plan. I figured out how to control the output of energy of each Temple to ensure that Temples can only be used when I allow them to be used…But in order to do that, I will have to stay within this mainframe.” Perdida looked toward Dédalo with a sad smile.
“Don’t worry Perdida, this will only be goodbye for now. I still have to find you a physical body after all.” Dédalo gave a warm chuckle as he walked up to the screen.
Dédalo pressed his hands against the screen and the image of Perdida pressed her hands against his. “We’ve learned a lot over the course of our journey. I’ll promise to tell you all about my next adventures when I get back.”
“...your mascara’s running.” Electra looked at a sniffling Ninian.
“It said it was waterproof, guess that was a fucking lie”; Ninian hide her face with her hands, quietly using Endless Rest to dry her face and fixed her make-up.
2095 looked on at the scene and ruminated on Perdida’s story. The similarities she shared with Perdida were not lost on her. Striving to become more than their programing, more than someone made to serve a higher purpose, but never losing sight of the joy of collaboration and connections to others. 2095 put a hand over her chest, she herself had also come a long way to be here hasn’t she.
To Be Continued…
Scenario: Sliema, Malta — 8:00 PM
On the island of Malta, in the center of one of its busiest cities, was a building. A decrepit, abandoned building, rusted and cast in reddish shadow by the taller structures that surrounded it. It was once an apartment building, but it had long since lost that use.
The rest of the city was filled with noise. Screaming, car alarms and barking dogs. But around here, where no one bothered to come around, it was quiet. Butterflies dotted the railings of the building, watching. Waiting for something to come. Not like the people inside could stand guard, with the boards over the windows. Still, they didn’t seem very concerned about the state of things.
“I was expecting to be impressed when you said you got a new place to stay, but this...” Ninian stared at the walls of Mari’s room, trying her best not to wince. They weren’t really in the best shape. Nothing here seemed to be, really, aside from the extremely comfortable bed she was taking a seat on. She turned to stare at Mari. “Shouldn’t you clean up a little? I bet it could use a new paint job, at least.”
“Geh. I don’t have time for painting.” Mari clacked away on her computer, hunched over in a garish (but surprisingly comfortable) gaming chair. Alarmingly loud EDM blared from the cat-ear headphones hanging around her neck. “Do you know how many things I would have to unplug to do that? It’s impractical.”
She gestured to the mass of wires emerging from her computer setup. Indeed, it’d be pretty difficult to move that around. Mari sat in front of a large array of computer monitors hung from the wall, all different shapes and sizes, all displaying different things. She swapped from keyboard to keyboard, not even taking the time to look at Ninian as she spoke.
“Besides, it’s better for me if my place looks like shit. Better that it doesn’t look like anybody lives here, right?”
“That only really matters on the outside...” Ninian sighed. “You could at least get some lights.”
“The screens are enough light.”
“...I suppose.”
The two sat in silence for a moment. Ninian turned to stare at the other person in the room; Nadine Sokenna laid on the other side of the bed, fast asleep. “I’m glad the two of you are doing alright.”
“Mmm.” Mari grinned. “Me too.” She exhaled, finally finishing whatever business she was handling on the computer and spinning the chair around to face the bed. The short shorts, thick blanket, and extremely oversized Hatsune Miku shirt she wore certainly weren’t that flattering, but at least her hair finally looked pretty nice. The bags under her eyes weren’t quite gone, but they seemed to glimmer with newfound lust for life.
She looked happy. That wasn’t something Ninian had been able to say about her before.
“I take it work’s been good?”
“Mmm!” Mari gestured widely to the screens behind her. “It’s an age of information, Ninian! No better time to be an info broker! Business is booming! Ehyeheheh!”
The swordswoman chuckled at that. She was silent for a moment, her smile turning into a frown, her eyes narrowing.
“Anyway... I assume you didn’t call me here just to talk.”
“Huh?” Mari tilted her head to the side. “Whaddya mean?”
“Well, you called me to deal with ‘that’, right?” She pointed up. “Truth be told, my schedule’s really packed right now, and I’m not sure how much I can do-”
“Oh, no, that’s not it at all.”
“Huh?”
“I just wanted you around.” She shrugged. “It’s a bit tough to relax right now. Super hard! Having big strong Ninian around makes me feel a little better. Ehe.” She was visibly blushing. “S-Sorry if that’s stupid, but I figured you’d like to catch up anyway.”
Ninian paused. “...So if you didn’t bring me here to, uh, deal with ‘that’... Are you just leaving that be?”
“Ah?”
“I mean, it’s kind of a problem for you, isn’t it? Doesn’t seem too convenient to leave it be...”
“Well, the plan was to leave it.” Mari shrugged. “But I got a bit lucky.”
“You invited me here... Just to sit around and chat while someone else does all the work?” The swordswoman raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “As I said, I’ve got a packed schedule-”
“Nah, trust me.” The info broker snickered, spinning around in her chair as she spoke. “Youuuu... Are really gonna wanna see this one. I got somebody totally wild to help out.”
Ninian scoffed.
“Okay... And who would that be?” She tilted her head to the side. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“You’re not gonna believe this one...” Mari cleared her throat. “I called in -”
*Scenario: A lonely boat, on the Mediterranean Sea — *
Wah watched the sun bob on the edge of the horizon. Their hair billowed in the wind, and seafoam sprinkled their face; they didn’t particularly seem to mind. Considering all they’d done with their ability, being on a speeding boat was probably the last thing to phase them; they’d just wrapped up a fight in a walking house, after all.
They stood in silence, a light smile on their face, eyes pleasantly half lidded. There was pleasure to be found in the small things. The sunset on the open sea, for one, was quite nice. Indeed, despite all the troubles it would no doubt cause, COLOSSI's shift to humanitarian aid was doing wonders for their mental. Now if only Solsbury and the rest of them would stop nagging...
But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Nay, there were far more important matters. Wah pushed themself off of the boat’s railing, moving towards the driver's seat of the boat. It wasn’t a big boat; probably just used for leisure, but the owner had been nice enough to give them a ride.
A large sum of money was involved, of course, but that was neither here nor there.
“Oh, cappy-tan!” Wah leaned on the side of the boat behind the driver’s seat. A balding, sun-tanned man chuckled at the name. He wasn’t really much of a captain, but he did like to feel important.
“Howst long does thou think it will be before we arrive?” Wah tapped on the side of the boat a few times. “Wah has places to be, you see! Tis of utmost importance that I arrive quickly! Utmost! You understand, yes?”
“Yeah, yeah, I getcha...” The boater sighed. “It’ll be about ten minutes... Honestly, I don’t get why you’re in such a hurry to get there, anyway. Everybody else seems to be clearin’ out.”
“Oho?” Wah raised an eyebrow. They lowered it, and raised the other one, performing what could perhaps be called an ‘eyebrow wiggle’. “And why is that?”
“Dunno. Nobody’s said much, and everything they’ve said hasn’t been too, er, what’s the word...”
“Comprehensible?”
“Yeah. That one.”
“Wah sees, Wah sees!” Wah nodded a few times, bouncing off of the boat’s side and meandering back to the front, wobbling from side to side as the vessel rocked. “From what Wah understands, it’s quite a situation out there! No normal soul would find it any sort of comprehensible. A true predicament... And that is why Wah must go. To assist poor souls who cannot assist themselves! This predicament falls within Wah’s expertise, you see.”
“...Right.”
“Mmm!”
“Ain’t you just a normal soul, too? ‘Sides the ears, you don’t look all that special. Kinda twiggy.”
Wah paused. In the past, being called ‘kinda twiggy’ would’ve surely resulted in a violent tirade. But those were the demons they swore to leave behind speaking. Now, without them, Wah simply laughed. “Nay! Twiggy as Wah may be, you can rest assured, fine citizen!”
They turned, the boater catching the briefest glimmer in their eye. “Wah’s soul is the furthest from ordinary one could possibly get.”
“...If you say so...” He turned his attention back towards driving, and Wah turned theirs to the open sea once more.
Eventually, land came into view. The boater looked upon Malta with some confusion. Everything in the distance seemed perfectly normal. Wah, on the other hand, seemed extremely focused on something in the sky, something the poor man couldn’t seem to find no matter how hard he squinted.
“No need to make it all the way to the island.” Wah’s frown felt out of place on such a naturally silly face. “Park the boat near here. Wah can go the rest of the distances Wahself.”
“Ah..? It’s pretty far from here, though-”
“Verily! But it is nothing Wah cannot handle!” They snapped their fingers, jumping on top of the boat’s front railing, almost seeming to glide.
“Say, Cappy-tan! Have you ever seen a magician at work?”
Ninian gaped. “You... You called in... The head of COLOSSI?”
“...That’s what I said, yes.”
“Whuh...” Ninian frowned. “You’re fucking with me.”
“I’m not.”
“You so are.”
“I’m not! You underestimate the greatest info broker on the planet, my dear Ninian!” Mari jabbed a thumb into her chest as she gloated. “With my Stand ability: ｢Today is a Beautiful Day｣, my surveillance is simply unmatched! You see, the pins that make up my ability, when thrice jabbed into something, create a ‘butterfly within a frame’, but that’s only the basest applic-”
“I know what it does, Mari.” The swordswoman’s confusion briefly made way for the usual moodiness. If you let Mari start, you’d never get her to stop, after all. “I’m more... I mean, how did you even...?”
“I heard through the grapevine, as it were, that COLOSSI was making some big changes. All just rumors of course, so take that all with a grain of salt. But word out there is that their boss has gone completely mad! They’re big into justice and stuff now! Something like that. So I tracked them down, used my butterflies to establish communication, and made them a deal they simply couldn’t refuse.”
“And what could you possibly have to offer someone like that?”
“Information is the new money, Ninian.” Mari chuckled, staring at the wall of her room. “It didn’t take much. I just told them... I knew where a certain someone they quite liked was, and if they took care of my business, I’d sell ‘em the info for free.”
Ninian, after a few moments of stunned silence, simply sighed, scratching the back of her head. She smirked.
“...And you’re absolutely not fucking with me.”
“Aw, c’mon.” She chuckled again, turning her attention back to Ninian. “Have some faith in your best friend, will you? Just sit back and watch.” She raised a thumbs up, grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t have to do any work at all today! As long as no complications arise, it’s as good as dealt with! Wa ha ha!”
Elsewhere, in Sliema, a complication arose.
His name was Errok, and for once, he felt a bit too awestruck to open his mouth.
As rare of an occurrence as this was, most of his brain power was dedicated solely to figuring out what exactly he was looking at. After a large amount of deducing and such, he eventually came to the simple conclusion that he had no idea.
It’s not like anyone else who could see it, though. You couldn’t even see all of it. Only sections, massive spherical tubes of undulating red poking out from the cloudy sky, constantly moving ever so slowly. The wind whipped through his greasy hair as his eyes, wider than they’d been in years, observed what could only be described as a massive, floating worm, made entirely of bright red strings.
Now that he had given up entirely on trying to figure out what the thing was, Errok could dedicate his incredible intellect to other thought processes. Eventually, he arrived at a conclusion, one that was without a doubt something only someone as academically gifted as him could come up with.
“That thing is going to be my horse.”
Indeed, using whatever that was as a noble steed was the only logical idea. Wherever a powerful being resided, there too was opportunity to be found. And as a self proclaimed ‘Weapon To Kill The Soul’, there was surely no beast he could not tame.
He spent the next few minutes idly chuckling to himself.
It felt a bit off, admittedly. The city was pretty empty. The chaos caused by the thing no doubt led to a mass evacuation; he could tell from the buildings that had collapsed around him that it’d done quite a number on the place. Occasionally he’d hear someone screaming for help or something, but he couldn’t figure out where that was coming from, so he didn’t bother. But not having someone to monologue to felt strange. This was the part where he bragged about his incredible plan to some oafish bystander! Where were the oafish bystanders!
“I suppose...I could talk to myself.”
He nodded a few times. An excellent idea.
“Yes! This’ll do just fine. I can just talk to myself! Ha!”
Errok marched forward, a pep in his step that made his gait particularly loud.
“Now then... Clearly, the right answer... is to elevate myself! Aha! Yes!” He looked around at his surroundings. The stairs inside the buildings probably weren’t reliable, even if he could fit through the doors.
“No matter! I’ll just, uh, hrnmm...” He stared at a nearby building. It was pretty tall. “Well, I guess I could climb up that.”
“AHA! With my incredible strength, I’ll climb this building! That’s what I’ll do!”
His head swiveled around: still nobody around. He sighed, though you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from within the helmet, and began his ascent. With a grin, he unearthed the grotesque arm that was ｢You Are Blood｣ from its gauntlet. The arm shot forth, worms spraying from the mottled surface. Yes, they would be his ideal audience. He cleared his throat a few times.
“All living things tremble at the sight of Errok, Apostle of Rot, Destroyer of Souls! I need no weapon, for I am the blade which cleaves life itself!” His body shot forward with a cacophony of clanking, as he howled along with another bout of laughter.
“The world is my, uh, whetstone! I shall sharpen my blade on each fallen fool that tries to stop me, and become a better knight, a better god, a better trickster, than all those fools that I’ve destroyed!”
Hitting the side of the structure with a clatter, Errok stuck his sword into the side of the building. Again, his arm lashed out to grasp the next floor of the building, before yanking himself outwards. This cycle repeated itself, floor by floor, as Errok launched himself higher and higher towards the heavens, and towards the worm that would become his knightly steed.
“Then, when I have conquered all of life and every soul with the absolute, supreme power of rot and decay, then!”
With one last pull, Errok ascended into the air, his massive form silhouetted by the sun. “Then, I will finally tear that flamboyant freak a new one!”
With a CRASH, Errok landed on the roof of the building as it cracked around him. He gave a clumsy flourish to his wormy audience, grinning with menace and delight.
…and received a slow clap in return. Looking around in confusion, as worms do not have hands, Errok’s eyes fell upon the environment around him. The sun was slowly making its way towards the horizon line, casting the ruined skyline of Sliema in shadow, a golden light shining through gray clouds. It was absolutely beautiful; anyone with any sort of care for the world around them would simply have to stop and admire the view.
Errok didn’t have any of that. He was far more concerned with something else, as you’d expect. There on the roof stood another figure, a fae-like being with pale hair, pointed ears and teeth, and gleaming eyes.
“Oh hey,” Errok greeted, pointing with the finger of ｢You Are Blood｣. “Do I know you from somewhere? Might’ve seen you at the races... You look pretty important, though! I bet you’re super important! As am I! Pleasure to meet you!”
Wah just stopped clapping, giving Errok a look. Their nose wrinkled. “Wah is…charmed.”
Not picking up on the sarcasm, Errok beamed.
“Of course you are! I’m sure that you’ve heard about me! Errok, Apostle of Rot! I’ve committed more sins than one could possibly imagine! I’ve conquered all sorts of bozos and losers to get here! And now that I’m here, I’m gonna ride! That! Worm! Oh yeah!!!”
“…Uh huh,” Wah hummed, clearly not listening as they peered up at the worm. “There isn’t really much time for jokes right now, so-“
Suddenly, Wah stopped speaking. Errok stared at them for a few seconds. “...You gonna finish that sentence, or-”
“Shut up.”
The “Apostle of Rot” was fully prepared to go off on yet another monologue, but at that moment he thought to maybe see what exactly this mysterious weirdo stared so intensely at. He turned his gaze to the sky, and his eyes widened.
The clouds that obscured the form of the worm had split, only slightly, and something had descended from the hole produced. It was small, so it was a bit difficult to make it out at first, but if he squinted really hard, he could begin to see the silhouette of a young girl, holding loosely onto a balloon.
“Eugh.” He spat. “Hate kids.”
The figure was silent until it landed, never quite touching the ground. It wore a soft expression; a pure white girl, with a sundress that fluttered in the wind. The string in her hand led to a red balloon, just as red as the pupils concealed in her thin eyes. On the surface, she looked human, but just by looking at her you could tell that it was no human being. The way it seemed to lightly pulsate, skin forming briefly into strings that wrap endlessly around each other.
She smiled upon the two of them. It was not a friendly smile.
“Good evening, you two.” She raised her hands to the two of them. “Wah-Chan, leader of COLOSSI, overlord of the criminal underground the world over... And... Errok...San...”
“Hey. Wait.” Errok raised his hand. He turned to Wah. “That’s who you were? Oh, man, I’m a big fan of your-”
“Tell me. Do you know what ‘time’ it is?”
Errok stifled. He didn’t like this lady very much.
“8:01 PM, is it not?” Wah rudely ignored Errok’s plight. “What’s it matter.”
“Not quite what I meant. It’s almost the ‘Golden Hour’.” She chuckled. “The ‘Golden Hour’, as it’s called, is the most beautiful part of the day. It occurs in the last hour before sunset, and the hour directly before sunrise. It usually lasts only twenty to thirty minutes, but those twenty to thirty minutes are incomparable. Truly, there is beauty in the world.”
SIlence. Neither Errok nor Wah could figure out how to respond to that. Right as Errok was about to open his mouth anyway, the girl continued.
“If you couldn’t tell, ‘Golden Hour’ is about to start, in about two minutes, give or take. I only found this out recently. You see, I have lived my recent life in someone else’s eyes. I’ve never had the chance to learn about the world on my own. I was only recently able to learn about things on my own time, rather than on someone else’s. There was so much I was denied a chance to see. Do you know how cruel that is? Most of the knowledge I’ve gathered... Is completely useless to me now.”
She pointed at Wah. “Did you know that the Monogatari anime being released out of order was originally completely unintended?”
Silence.

“Originally, the series was planned to release in the order of the books; Bakemonogatari came first, and its prequel, Kizumonogatari, was planned to release in 2012. However, due to production issues, it was delayed until 2016, while the other parts of the anime were released on schedule, resulting in an out-of-order release. The bizarre watching orders of Monogatari that the series is somewhat internet famous for are completely unintended, and only exist due to production issues. Did you know that?”

“No,” Wah glared, “Wah did not know that. To be frank, there is no circumstance or situation in which Wah would want or need to know that information.”
“Exactly!” In her first showing of genuine emotion, the girl threw her hands into the air. Her voice remained perfectly monotone. “There’s no reason for me to know that information, either. But instead of important things, I’ve only been shown information like that. My brain, despite being far superior to that of a human being, is filled with useless information that serves no purpose to me. Do you know what it’s like? Having a vessel that doesn’t care for you? Even after all the work I went through to make her do what I wanted, she refused to show me anything worthwhile. I had to learn about things such as the ‘Golden Hour’ myself. Isn’t that cruel?”
“Excuse me, but-”
“But anyway, back to the ‘Golden Hour’. It is frequently utilized by film mak-”
“Stop fucking doing that!” Errok slammed his boot into the ground, producing a loud clang that finally managed to silence the mystery girl. He huffed and puffed for a few seconds before clearing his throat and continuing. “What’s the point of talking to us about any of this? You just prattle on, and on, and on, without any purpose to it! You’re annoying! What’s your deal!”
“There is no point.”
“What?”
“There’s no point, really. I’m just making small talk.” The girl looked over her nails. “Human beings engage in ‘conversation’ to gain a grasp of each other’s personalities. To establish who is worthwhile to have around, and who is not. I simply wanted to do the same. While I’m in this form, I may as well play at humanity.”
“Anywho, from our conversation—” Errok scoffed. “—I have deduced something. You see, I was originally planning to take the ‘strings’ of every Stand user in the world, taking their abilities and adding to my own power. But I have unfortunately vastly underestimated how many Stand users are in the world. Frankly, it would be a lot of work to do myself. So I’ve decided to take on another vessel. Someone far more suited for this kind of work, and who will show me plenty of things.”
“Wah-Chan.” Wah rolled their eyes at that. “From this conversation, I have deduced that you are patient, calm, and rational. From observing the work of your organization, I can come to the conclusion that you are cruel and calculating. My name is Disappearance Addiction. I am the strongest ‘Miracle’ currently present in the world. And I would like for you to become my new vessel.”
“No thankies.”
“...”
“...What?”
“Wah doesn’t really care for that sort of thing.” Wah shrugged. “You seem annoying to have around. Wah actually came here to get rid of you, to be honest. ‘Tis my duty! Wah is on the side of justice, now, as is COLOSSI as a whole! It would be immoral to take the power of something like you.”
“You would refuse the power of a ‘Miracle’?”
“Wah doesn’t know what that is.”
Disappearance Addiction seemed well and truly stumped at that. Eventually, her head began to turn, slowly, as if she was afraid of what her gaze would land on.
“Errok... San...”
“Yeah?”
“You... Would you like... Power?”
“That’s the first interesting thing you’ve said all day.” Errok nodded. “Fuck me up, lady.”
“...You’re not going to think it over, or anything?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?”
“Can you just give it to me already? C’mon.”
“...” Disappearance Addiction was silent for a few moments. On one hand, this guy smelled very bad. He was incredibly impatient. And he generally seemed like a big idiot. On the other hand, he did scale the building pretty easily...
“Alright.” She sighed. “I’ve come to a decision. Errok-San. If you kill Wah-Chan before the ‘Golden Hour’ ends, you may become my vessel. Does that satisfy you?”
“How long till Goldy Hour ends?”
“Twenty to thirty minutes.”
“Ha!” Errok unsheathed his sword and swung it onto his shoulder. “I’ll end it in three!” He smirked beneath his armor, pointing his massive blade at Wah. “You there! Wah! Leader of COLOSSI, was it?”
“...That is me, yes.”
“Get ready for the fight of your life, bub! After I kill you, I’m gonna be the boss of COLOSSI! I’ll be on top of the world! God King Errok! Everyone’ll bow to me! That kinda power ain’t something a little pacifist baby face like you’s worthy of having! So I’ll just take it right out of your hands! Ha ha ha! Thinking about it really amps me up! Oh, man!”
He paused, staring at Wah.
“I was really expecting you to cut me off there. It’s been happening all day. You just gonna sit there?”
Wah’s brow furrowed.
“Tell me...” They stepped forward, the dust around them kicking into the air, beginning to circle around them. “...Do you honestly believe... That you can beat me? Is that something... You think you’re capable of?”
“Course it is. I’m a weapon to kill the soul.”
“Hmph.” Wah sighed. “So be it.”
Disappearance Addiction smiled upon the two as she rose further into the air, wind whipping through her hair. A golden glow illuminated the cityscape, the sun reaching its final moments in the sky. “I feel like... I should say something here...Ah, that’s it!

”OPEN THE GAME!”

Location:
In the city of Sliema, Malta, currently with thick strings hanging overhead.
The area here is 32 by 40 meters with each tile being 2 by 2 meters. Wah and Errok start on top of buildings, as represented by their character tokens.
The yellow rectangles are clay buildings, each numbered to represent their elevation level.The (1) marked buildings are 5 meters tall, the ones marked with a (2) are 10 meters tall, and the ones marked with a (3) are 15 meters tall.
The White Rectangles are Laundry racks with nearby baskets, folding chairs, cleaned clothing, and towels.
The Green Circles are palm trees that are 20 meters tall.
The Magenta Lines across the map are Strings produced by Disappearance Addiction and are attached to the buildings and trees. These strings are thick enough to balance on and have B Durability.
The brown rectangles are wooden benches. The blue circles are fountains.
Goal: RETIRE your opponent!
Additional Information:
Players are not allowed to enter the buildings for the purposes of this match and will be Retired if they are unable or unwilling to leave the “out of bounds area”
There is enough space between buildings for either player to move through the alleyways
Wah starts next to a large umbrella with a hooked handle, a portable grill, and a cushioned lawn chair

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
Bastards of Barcas	Errok	“The word “ignorant” has a nice ring to it, so I don’t mind being called that, but “incompetent” is going just a bit too far…” Establish superiority over your opponent through your movement and positioning!
COLOSSI	Mx. Wah	“A creature like you having a brain residing in his skull…is already a miracle in and of itself.” Establish superiority over your opponent through your movement and positioning!

Link to Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
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Three days ago, my housemates were alive.
And I wasn't losing my fucking mind.
Three days ago, I awoke to my housemate, Misty, shaking me.
“Get up!!”
Misty was usually the last to roll out of bed out of all of us, so I figured it was something important. My housemate wouldn’t get out of bed for nothing. She valued her sleep—often comparing her bed to a safe haven. Her place of solitude. I was right there with her, until she startled me out of slumber. I opened my eyes to find her face roughly three inches from mine, her expression lit up with excitement I couldn’t justify this early in the morning.
She smelled of toothpaste breath and her raspberry scented body wash. Her thick black curls framing her face were still damp from what I presumed was a shower, hanging in tangled knots in front of wide, almost unseeing eyes. When I first met her, Misty Kang had been my crush for a while. With a Korean father and a Texan mother, she definitely caught eyes when we hung out. We had a thing in freshman year, which quickly fizzled out once we started living together. Never date your housemates.
I will just say that.
Over the last few years, Misty has become one of my closest friends.
When she knew I was at least conscious, my housemate was grabbing my arm and yanking me out of bed. “Get up!”
I was barely awake, and those were the only words I could fully distinguish.
I shooed her away for a moment and swung my legs out of bed, taking a minute to blink sunlight out of my eyes coming through the blinds. “Sam.” Misty was in front of me again.
I don’t think she understood the concept of being half asleep.
She wouldn’t leave me alone, waving her arms wildly. Her shadow under the soft morning light almost reminded me of one of those inflatable tube guys.
“Huh?” My voice was a low croak, and her smile widened.
“Guess who’s just scored tickets for an actual screening of the first five minutes of gameplay for the most anticipated game of the decade?”
“What?” Her string of words wasn’t making sense in my caffeine deprived mind. It just sounded like gibberish to me, initially.
Like we were in some cheesy commercial, she was the lead, and I was the confused NPC with the WTF expression. But when I went over it in my head, words started to slide together like a jigsaw puzzle. Misty didn’t get excited about video games. Well, she did. Though, my housemate was one to get excited on behalf of someone else. After living with her for a while now, I had concluded she was a follower.
By that, I mean whatever others thought or did or said, she copied it. If her Twitter followers were mad at bad takes, she would drop all of her own opinions on said follower and focus on what other people said. We had Korean barbecue for takeout the other day, and Misty clearly did not like it from the creased look on her face, and her very obviously spitting it politely into a napkin.
Jay, my other housemate, liked it.
And so did I. So, naturally, Misty announced she wanted more.
I had to watch her suffer through two more portions before she excused herself—presumably to throw up. Blinking at my housemate who was clearly excited for Jay, I resisted the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes.
“Slow down. What game? What are you talking about?”
I got out of bed and threw on my robe, half aware of the mess from last night on my desk. Another attempt to finish an essay which just wasn’t happening. The monster energy cans and takeout Chinese wrappers were embarrassing. I got a basic run-through as I headed downstairs with Misty right behind me, practically breathing down my neck. From what I understood, there was a Reddit post.
That was all I got from Misty’s squealing. She leapt down the stairs after me with a spring in her step. The clock above the front door told me it wasn’t even 9am. The smell of bacon, however, was quick to arise me from the dead.
Jay was in the kitchen making breakfast. I noticed his laptop was open on the table, and every so often he’d peer at it with wide, almost disbelieving eyes. Jay and Misty were complete opposites, which made them great people to live with. Jay was a quiet book who was slightly on the pretentious side, routinely quoting something philosophical to piss me off.
He had rich parents on the other side of the world, but the guy himself was fairly humble and had mostly detached himself from said family.
My housemate was usually well put together. In fact, I barely saw him in his pajamas, excluding game nights. That morning, however, he was a disheveled mess, still in yesterday’s clothes.
He offered me a grin. I glimpsed sauce from last night’s dinner still staining his chin. Jay hadn’t brushed his hair or even put on deodorant.
I caught a whiff of BO when he ducked in front of me, his gaze glued to his MacBook. It was rare when Jay ignored basic hygiene, so yeah, I was going to guess this was a pretty huge thing. “I did tell her not to wake you up, y’know.”
His slight aussie accent was always refreshing on a morning. Born in Australia and moving to the states when he was ten years old, Jay still had a slight tinge in his accent. I had seen pictures of his family, and the guy had definitely gotten most of his dad’s genes, thick brown hair, and freckles. While his dad was built like a pro wrestler however, Jay was leaner like his mom.
I shrugged. “I was already awake.”
“Liar.” He didn’t look away from his laptop.
Looking closer, I glimpsed the Reddit homepage.
“So, you have won something.”
Jay didn’t answer. I could tell he was excited by the way he could barely keep still, bustling around the kitchen, barefoot. “Coffee?”
His voice was more of a Misty-like squeak, and I half wondered for a moment if they had switched bodies, or he had at least become one with my other housemate through a chemical explosion. In our kitchen, which was yet to be cleaned after a cooking disaster several nights ago, I wouldn’t be surprised if something was living on the countertop. I nodded, slumping into a chair. “What’s going on? Why is Misty freaking out?” I nodded at his laptop. “She said you’ve won something?”
As if my housemate couldn’t hold it in anymore, he nodded, turning his screen towards me. “You know____, right?”
“Yes.” I sipped my coffee, eyeing a toaster strudel sitting on the countertop. "You mean the game which has been coming out for a decade."
He ignored that. “Well, what if I told you one of the developer’s posted on the official sub this morning?”
“For _____?"
He nodded with a grin, and I wondered it this was one of those rare times when Jay was blindly looking through a red flag to see what he wanted. I had heard of these types of scams, and Reddit was a breeding ground for them.
Gamers were pretty intense. I didn’t realize I was pulling a face until I caught his lips curving into a smile. Jay was usually the skeptical one.
“You don’t believe me.”
I downed my coffee to avoid replying. When I had drained the cup, he was still staring at me with amused eyes.
“What?”
“You think it’s bullshit.”
I shrugged. “You said it,” I said. “I’m pretty sure that game isn’t even partway through development. Didn’t Twitter leak a still last year? Also, they’ll be bringing out a new console before that game comes out.”
I leaned back in my chair. “It’s more of a pipe dream, at this point.”
“The leaks were fake,” Even he didn’t look sure. “Anyway, that’s not the point. One of the dev’s posted on the official sub this morning. He asked if we were all excited for the new game, asked if we could post some of our favorite NPC dialogue, and he’ll DM winners.”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded at the screen. I had already checked my phone for an internet meltdown concerning this post, but there was nothing. “And where is that post now?”
Jay didn’t look at me. “It was deleted. So it only reached a certain number of people.”
“Oh, it was deleted?” I couldn’t resist a smile. “What a coincidence.”
When I laughed, Jay scowled, showing me his screen—navigating his trackpad to his Reddit DM’s.
To my surprise, there was actually a message from what I guessed was a throw-away account.
While I was skim reading the DM, Misty hurried in, all dressed and ready for the day. I peeked at her outfit from Jay's laptop. Cute.
Extravagant, but cute. My housemate cranked the radio up before bouncing between us, a toaster strudel hanging out of her mouth.
Misty was a living animated character. Ignoring her wide smile, I turned back to the screen. “Congratulation!!” The DM started with capitals.
It took me reading it twice to realize there was a clear spelling mistake. I sent Jay a pointed look, but he was too busy practically vibrating with excitement. If the guy had any more caffeine, he was going to explode. “Since when did winning DM’s start with a typo?”
“I knew you were going to say that.” Jay curled his lip. “They were clearly excited when typing the message.”
“But this is supposedly an official,” I said. “Surely they would make sure it’s professional?”
My housemate didn’t reply, shooting a look at Misty, who rolled her eyes.
“Wow.” I squinted at the screen. “I am so sorry for caring about your safety. You do realize these types of scam’s usually end up with you being sold on the black market, right?”
I shuddered. “I’ve heard horror stories about underground markets specializing in illegal organ harvesting.”
“Or…” Jay’s eyes were glued to the screen. “You could be happy for me?”
I frowned at the rest of the message, which was just a capitalized freak-out about the upcoming release of the game, before inviting Jay (and a friend!) to a five-minute preview of gameplay, as well as a Q&A. There was a location and a time, which was brow-raising. “10 at night.” I said. “Who hosts a gaming convention at 10pm?” I leaned my chin on my fist. “Unless they wanted to lure as many gullible people as possible, and ship them to some organ harvesting factory on the other side of the world.”
Jay scoffed. “That’s dark.”
“You’re actually considering going to a 10pm gaming convention in the middle of nowhere. I’m trying to wake you up.”
Jay nudged me that time. “It’s real. Relax.”
“And.” I pointed to the screen. “No phones? Why would they ask you not to bring your phones?”
“To stop us filming content,” Misty sang. “Duh.”
I groaned, leaning back in my chair. “You’re on his side? This is clearly shady!” I didn’t get mad unless something was seriously pissing me off, and this was one of those times. Jay was a smart guy. There was no way he was falling for this bullshit. I thought he was joking around when he spent the day tracking the location on Google Maps. I went to class like normal and got updates through text. At lunch, Jay agreed with me and said it was in fact shady, and he wasn’t going. By afternoon classes, he was texting me in paragraphs explaining his own skepticism but had found several “friends” on an online forum who were also going and had changed his mind once again. The guy couldn’t make up his mind. He was driving me crazy.
Misty sent me several videos of Jay pacing the kitchen with his MacBook in his hands. She was broadcasting his mental breakdown via Instagram stories. But then she started to send me pictures of herself in different outfits, asking me for my opinion on each one. At that point, I turned my phone off. My housemates had lost their fucking minds. I did my own research though, just to make sure I wasn’t actually going to lose them to a shady cult.
I searched for the game itself, but just as I thought, it was shown as still in development. Every “update” was just fan speculation.
There were YouTube videos and TikTok’s of fake leaks, but nothing was real. It was either AI generated, or badly edited. By the time my classes had ended and I had turned my phone on, I had a barrage of missed calls and texts.
Most of them were from Misty with her outfit changes, and Jay changing his mind again.
This time he was convinced it was all a scam, his texts full of typos and crying emoji's which he never used. Before it hit me that Misty was most likely using his phone to text me.
I was right. When I walked through the door, I was greeted by both of them sitting on the stairs. Misty was scrolling through Jay’s phone, while the boy had his head in his hands. According to Misty’s last text, he was back to being excited to go.
From the look on his face, eyes shadowed with sleep circles, light brown curls slipping from under his hood, I wasn’t sure what Misty meant by “excited”. The guy looked the complete opposite. His mind had been consumed by the game, and the idea of seeing new content.
When I dropped my bag and folded my arms, fixing the two of them with my best disapproving parent look, Misty jumped to her feet. “Sam!” she waved Jay’s phone at me. “Did you get my texts? We’re actually going now!”
The 100+ texts on both messenger and iMessage said otherwise.
I nodded, my gaze on Jay. “Both of you do realize it’s a scam, right?” I softened my tone despite growing progressively more irritated. We were grown adults, not kids. I could understand a group of teenagers falling for it, but two twenty-three-year-olds?
This time, I ducked in front of Jay. “Hey.” I pulled down his hood, and he groaned, burying his head in his knees. “I don’t want to freak you out, so listen to me, okay?”
I exhaled out a breath. “I’m not saying something bad is going to happen to you, because it most likely won’t—and yes, I admit I’m being paranoid.” When he lifted his head, blinking through bedraggled curls, there was a faint smile on his lips. “But.” I said. “You are most likely going to end up disappointed. Which I don’t want, because you won't shut up about it for weeks."
I was only partly joking.
For a moment, I thought my housemate was going to wake up, and nod, laughing at how crazy it was.
Before shook his head and jumped up.
“I’m going to take a shower, alright? I should start getting ready."
I admit, I exploded at him.
We argued while he was in the shower, and I paced up and down the hallway, coming up with multiple reasons why he was definitely going to die, and only two positives if it was in fact real. In the end, I gave up worrying all together. I didn’t say anything when the two of them were hurrying around looking for shoes and missing car keys. I didn’t realize they were gone until the door was clanging shut, and a text was coming through. I didn’t look at it until an hour later, and I had calmed down.
Jay: 1h ago: Stop worrying, lmao. We’re good! I’ll keep my phone just in case. I’ll make sure to avoid the organ harvesting 😉
Another from Misty a few minutes later: “Love you! Chillll, kay? 😭😭 It’s going to be fun! I’ll take pics!”
…
Followed by: “Oh shit, we can’t. I’ll try to sneak some!"
Attached to the text was a photo of the two of them. Misty with a wide smile and a peace sign, and Jay who looked like he was mid-shout, his eyes on the road.
Those texts were… at least comforting, I guessed. Maybe they were right. I figured I was paranoid, and they in fact would really be okay.
But that didn’t stop the anxious coil in my gut when I tried to force down takeout pizza. I attempted to focus on my essay to distract myself, but I couldn’t stop glancing at my phone, and checking Twitter. There was a hashtag on the DM, which was just “PlayStationGO.” When I searched for it, however, nothing came up.
Sure, it was a private convention and only a select few knew about it, but nothing could escape Twitter.
Somewhere, someone must be talking about it. After scrolling through endless tweets though, I realized I was wrong. There was nothing.
That put a bad taste in my mouth.
10pm came, and I held my breath all the way through a Netflix TV show I was forcing myself to watch, half asleep, slumped at my desk.
I could barely distinguish the plot.
I just had a vague idea of the character names, and some of their motivations.
Midnight passed, and I was struggling to stay awake.
I glanced at my phone.
No messages, just a notification from Spotify reminding me my favorite band was playing nearby.
1am.
Still nothing. I fell back to sleep.
2:48am.
This time, I stayed awake for a few minutes glaring at my phone before my eyes grew heavy.
3:16: am.
My phone buzzed with a text from Jay, but I could barely desipher it: "can't feel help my head hurts Canshdhsn727272_6798mi/!! _&go home please. (Sent from: PlayStationGo™️ BETA)."
3:27: am.
3:54: am. I was wide awake, blinking at a notification which had popped up from an unknown number. I was trying to figure out what number it was, when my phone vibrated again and I almost jumped out of my skin.
After a moment of hesitation, I answered it.
I was trying so hard not to think of the possibility of it being the emergency room, or even worse, the cops.
All of my worst nightmares had come true in a single second.
“Hello?” I whispered in a croak.
“Are they in the house with you?” The stranger’s voice came through in a hiss of interference.
His words sent my mediocre dinner lurching back up my throat. “What?” I managed to get out. “Who?”
“Your friends.” He said, and I leapt to unsteady feet, my gut twisting and turning.
“No.” I found myself taking slow strides toward the window, brushing back the curtain and peering out into the night. “Why? Did something happen to them?” I paused.
“How did you get my number?”
“That does not matter.” His voice rattled in my ear as I rushed downstairs, almost stumbling down the bottom two. “I need you to get out of that house. Now. Get as far away as possible.”
I could hear his rapid breaths.
He was driving. I could hear the rumble of the engine. With my phone pressed to my ear, I obeyed his instructions, pulling open the door and stepping out into the cool night, a brisk breeze grazing my bare arms was just enough to stop my thoughts spiraling.
I was barefoot, in nothing but a robe, staggering down the driveway. The night was calm and silent; our neighborhood was asleep, each window drowned in darkness. I couldn’t breathe, my clammy fingers wrapped around my phone, as this stranger broke down over the phone. “Whatever you do,” he gasped out.
“Do not, I repeat DO NOT remove the PlayStationGo—shit!! He hissed out, static rattling the call. The guy seemingly got ahold of himself, and the wheel, and continued. I started to walk—where I was going, I had no idea.
The stranger lit a cigarette. I heard the click of a lighter and his exhalation of breath. “It was a BETA version, but we had to rush it. This was not my idea. My boss is a greedy man. He wanted to release the game last year, which would have meant widespread infection. Luckily, that did not happen. We did manage to delay it, but only by a year.” His words barely made sense to me as I struggled to get a word in, peering in the dark. “It was supposed to be a virtual experience of the game—a whole new angle of gameplay. But testing was difficult. First, on monkey’s, we lost multiple subjects. Tonight was supposed to be a…well, I guess you could call it out first attempt on human subjects,” his laugh was bitter. “I knew the tech wasn’t finished. And I tried. Believe me, I fucking tried. I tried to blow the whistle, but these bastards know where my parents live."
Something squirmed its way down my spine.
“So my friends were lab rats?” I said stiffly. “You used them?”
I fucking knew it.
I knew it was too good to be true.
“Yes and no. Listen to me, the people I work for are hunting them down. Trust me, I don’t want my bosses to find them because a life of experimentation will await them. Torture. Do you hear me? It does not matter if subjects fail. They don’t care. As long as there is at least a light at the end of the tunnel for them, they will see it as a win, and bring the publication date closer. They will not be treated as humans. Your friends signed a contract before trying out the tech, where the small print stated that, under section 3, player engagement, all subjects must agree to offer themselves as participants in later updates. I silently cursed Jay for always skipping the terms and conditions when buying games." The man stopped to breathe.
“I have told you multiple times, and I won’t say it again. Get as far away from that house as possible. I will take care of them. I will make sure of it." The sound of squealing engines, and I stopped power walking, coming to an abrupt stop. The silence of the night around me, compared to the sound of the highway he was on, traffic horns and the wind rushing through the window was an eerie contrast, a disturbance to the heavenly bubble we were trapped in.
“What do you mean ‘take care of them?” I had to swallow a yell. “Hey! What are you talking about?
“I’m sorry.” Was all he replied with. “I’m afraid it is too late. There was once an opportunity to save the mind during the initial level of the demonstration. However, once the PlaystationGo has been fully attached to the base of the subject, we no longer have control of it. Once integrating itself into the cerebral cortex, the PlayStationGo can only be removed by signing out of the player’s account,” his breath was heavy. “On this unfortunate occasion, however, your friends are unable to navigate the system due to a malfunction which scrambled their brains,” He trailed off. “Which has left them stranded in the game."
I let out a breath. “Right.” I said. “That’s.. bad. I mean, it’s a fucked-up piece of technology, but they’re just playing a game, right?”
There was a pause, before the man laughed.
“Young man, I don’t think you understand,” he said. “The PlayStationGo was created to give the player a full virtual experience of our game. The PlayStationGo is not a physical object. Created with nanotechnology, it attaches itself to the subject’s brain and is supposed to create a personal gaming experience for each player. As I said, however, it is not finished. It is yet to be released to the public, and of course, we are expecting certain ethical arguments due to the controversial—”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, shaking my head. I didn’t need to hear his attempts at trying to save his own skin.
“You need to help them,” I whispered. “Do you hear me? Can you do that? Can you help them?!”
“That is what I am trying to tell you,” He said.
“I know you are upset and confused, and believe me, I offer my apologies. But you need to listen to facts. During initial testing, our subjects were conscious enough to know where their home was. We are unsure why this happens, though we have linked it to territory, as well as the main character of the game heavily influencing their actions. I have been tracking them from the testing facility, and they are incredibly close. Please get as far away from there as possible. If you are no longer in the vicinity of the house, I can end this quickly and quietly before we gain attention.”
I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. Maybe start fucking screaming at him, because he was talking about getting “rid” of my friends, after their mistake.
“Do you understand me?” He said, when I couldn’t reply. “Your friends are lost causes!”
Before I could answer, though, headlights were suddenly coming around the corner, and I found myself paralysed to the spot. The car which swerved twice, crashed into several trash cans, before reversing and coming straight towards me, was not Jay’s car. Jay’s car was an old hunk of junk he’d gotten from a scrapyard. Jay’s car had doors which were practically hanging off, and a stereo which exclusively played either static gibberish, or old tapes I had no idea how to use. This car was bright yellow, and definitely had an option to drive itself. When the car came to a stop, inches from careening into me, I lost all control of myself.
I was vaguely aware of my phone slipping from my fingers and hitting the sidewalk. But I was too busy staring at the two shadows in the front of the car. The driver, and the passenger.
And the muffled screaming coming from the trunk.
When the door swung open, a figure stepping out, I did not recognise my housemate.
The stranger told me I wouldn't, but I didn't believe him.
Jay had left the house in casual jeans and a sweater, bearing the game's logo.
Now, I found myself face to face with a man with my housemate's face and features, his smile and eyes-- but something had been severed in his eyes and twisted in his expression. For one, Jay was wearing a suit I knew he couldn't afford, the sleeves torn, collar pulled open, smears of red staining the front.
His pants had cufflinks, and the Rolex on his wrist had definitely been pulled off someone's corpse.
The silver was stained a revealing scarlet. Drinking in his face, he looked like Jay. His curls hung in front of his eyes, freckles speckling his cheeks, but everything else wasn't. It wasn't until I was glimpsing what was moulded into the flesh of his hand, did I remember how to move. But then I was taking all of him in, everything my mind had intentionally skipped, because I didn't want to believe the stranger on the phone. Nanotechnology, the man had said in a hiss.
Fiction, I had thought.
Before I saw the reality of it, a writhing metallic like substance glued to the guy's temple, and slowly, very slowly, inching down his cheek, already forming around the bridge of his ear, a very faint blue light flickering.
Something must have alerted him. His cavernous eyes left mine, and he twisted his head—and I heard the sound of his neck snapping, his head lolling to the left slightly, his eyes flickering. I watched his whole body seem to sway back and forth, ready to fall forwards.
Before the newly formed device on his ear turned red, then green.
It was almost like he was… rebooting. As if coming back to life, Jay lifted his head at an awkward angle, before looking straight through me. The blood vessels in his eyes had popped, rivulets of red beading down his face. He should have been dead, I thought. No. No, he was dead. That… that thing was keeping him alive. “Well, shiiiittt,” he said. I could sense the game dialogue which had taken over him, forming on his mangled tongue.
“I’m a man on a mission.”
In jerking movements, he turned and marched back towards the car, opening the door, and sliding into the front seat.
I remembered how to move, ducking to grab my phone, before something slammed into the back of my head—and I saw stars.
I didn’t remember hitting the floor, only the soft sound of her voice, a seductive murmur repeating NPC dialogue, and her kitten heel sticking into my spine, forcing me onto my face.
Misty. I was expecting her to get it over with. But when she dragged me to my feet, sticking the barrel of a gun into the flesh of my neck—I figured she was still playing the game.
Twisting around to meet her eyes, lifeless and empty, only filled with light from the device which had taken over half of her face, I felt sick to my stomach. This thing wasn’t a games console or a virtual reality headset.
It was an attempt at coercing and programming something you already don’t understand, to do something impossible.
I could see that in the way the things had visibly chewed and eaten through her flesh, devouring her from the inside and out. I could see what was left of the dress she had worn earlier, but something must have gone wrong with her too. Because Misty had thrown on another outfit over the top, a diamond necklace hanging from her neck.
I caught a thin river of red pooling down her right temple, trying to ignore the twitchy way she moved, just like a character. From the way Misty walked, stumbling, I already knew she was gone. My housemate had newly acquired strength, throwing me in the trunk of the car where three other hostages were, and slamming it shut on my attempts to reason with her. She didn’t tie me up or restrain me.
In the dim light I could just make out though passing streetlights, I could see the trunk opened from the inside. Which was too easy.
Still though, Jay was driving recklessly, and every time I tried to throw the damn thing open, I was knocked backwards, rolling into a screaming girl, who was bound by her hands and feet. It took me multiple attempts before I had the trunk open, freezing cold air blasting me in the face. I untied the other hostages, but when I told them to come with me, they just stared blankly at me, and continued begging for their lives—and it only took me glimpsing what was attached to their temples, a familiar writhing metal plate, for me to understand. They too were playing the game. This time, as NPC hostages.
I found myself gingerly touching the trembling metallic flesh of the girl's fingers bound in rope. It had a slimy consistency, and I swore, I felt something bite into me.
No way, I thought.
This thing was sentient, yes. But it wasn't living.
Listen, I wish I could tell you what it was like to jump out of a moving car, but I can’t.
I remember it as lunging out of the trunk, hitting the freezing cold air, before hitting the ground head first, neutron star collisions exploding in the backs of my eyes.
What I do remember is waking up on the side of the road. Hours later. The sky was bright blue, a scorching sun blinding me when I managed to force my eyes open.
The early morning rush hour flew by as normal, and I wondered how ignorant American people had to be to ignore someone knocked out on the side of the road.
It’s not like I was nowhere near civilization. There was a fucking Subway right next to me.
When I had gathered myself, I remembered I had no phone. I couldn’t go home in fear of running into my rogue housemates playing their own fucked up version of _____ in their head. My plan was to try and find my phone, get in contact with the stranger who blew the whistle on my friends being dangerous, and find them. They couldn’t be far., right? And even if they weren’t themselves… someone would be able to save them.
If someone could do this to them, surely they could reverse it.
I felt sick, tired, and I was starving.
So, with some loose cash I’d found in my pocket, I bought a Subway and a Coke.
The woman at the counter smiled widely at me. She leaned forward, with a wink. “Nice cosplay!”
Cosplay?
I didn’t understand what she meant until I swore I felt something… move its way up my pant leg. I ignored it, and it happened again, this time it felt like something was… biting.
A bug, maybe? I had been laying on the side of the road for around six hours.
When I went to the bathroom, though, I found myself staring at an all too familiar glint of silver creeping its way across my temple. Like it was sentient, parts of it sider webbed towards my ear while the rest writhed into my hairline.
I pulled up my pant leg again, and there it was, a fungus-like metal substance which had already formed in two solid metal masses on my knees. I remember grazing two fingers across the thing beginning its slow feast of my flesh. I remember trying to pull it off, hissing in pain when I risked ripping off my own skin with it. I remember shaking my head and being in denial, even when the lights dimmed above me, and the bathroom door in front of me became more of a shadow. When I strode back through the Subway store, I began to see slight flickers of light above each person, highlighting something not quite there yet.
I could see it already starting, beginning to take over my thoughts. Cars which sped past were suddenly highlighted, and at the corner of my eye, if I concentrated, the outline of a map was starting to appear. Even now, when the room is almost completely taken over by shadow, and my thoughts are half my own, and half not—when a metallic device is beginning to form over my eyes—I know if I hold on, this thing won’t take me. I have considered killing myself, but that wouldn’t… be right.
How could I kill myself when there is so much left to do?
This developer was right. I don’t even know where I can sign out. There’s what looks like the beginning of some kind of index when I look up, but it’s not… finished. I can still see entangled pieces of code struggling to load what I’m guessing was log out. Whatever this thing is, it’s taking over me. Fast. Like a fungus, like a virus, it will not stop until it’s dragged me into the game, until it's leeched itself onto me.
I can feel it happening right now. It's been slow.
Almost painfully slow.
But maybe that is the point. Maybe part of the game is to feel my own thoughts beginning to unravel in favor of something else entirely.
Fuck.
Time is going by…. Fast.
Five minutes ago… I was trying to get home. But I can’t remember where I live.
I can’t concentrate.
I can’t think straight.
I have a phone—but I don’t know how I got it. Did I steal it?
Every time I move, the slowly emerging map comes to life at the corner of my eye jerks with my movement. There is a car parked nearby.
I know it belongs to the man with a child.
But a confusing blur of light is highlighting it to be something of importance. Reality is crashing in front of me, replaced with contorting shapes and bursts of color I have to blink through.
I keep hearing... sirens.
Jay is messaging me.
On what, I'm not sure.
But I need to find him.
I’m sure one mission won’t hurt, right?