Hi everyone! My first post here.
I´ve been thinking about creating a simple system that would handle some time-based resources. Specifically: air. I`ve been thinking of the players having to use a gasmask to cross radioactive or toxic areas, kind of like how the METRO Games series handles it: you put on your mask and a timmer for the air filter starts running. Once is out you either change it if you have spare ones or you need to reach a safe zone.
I´ve been searching some reddits for experiences with timmers but most of them only refer to using timmers for combat situations or for forcing the party to concentrate on the game. Haven´t found anything regarding resource management.
I know it can be a risky play and the implications it may have, but wanna know if anything like this exists and if it has been succesfully implemented. I`ve been scratching my head to try and recreate that tension between exploring and being conscious about aifood/other resources, but couldn´t come to anything besides using timmers.

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Memory transcription subject: Illia, Federation Communications Technician
Date [standardized human time]: October 21, 2136
Kiran and I embraced for what seemed like forever, idly sitting on the rainbow grass that colored the forest floor while huddled together in the darkness. The campfire near us was still full of life somehow, and provided a good amount of illumination throughout the campsite.
It was quite difficult to sit on my haunches upright, with nothing supporting my back. Despite that, It was well worth it and I would sympathize with her for as long as was needed. I remained alert, with my weapon still in my grip in case the human decided to return for round two. I gently massaged the girl’s back with one of my forehooves, hoping that my attempts at soothing her would ward away the trauma she had experienced.
“Illia..” Kiran sobbed into my chest, drenching the fabric of my jumpsuit. “T-thank you, thank you. I was scared that you didn't m-make it.. I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t. P-please don’t leave me.” She pleaded.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart, don’t worry.” I replied, my voice a faint whisper. “The only thing that matters now is that you’re safe. You don’t have to worry about that.. thing anymore. It’s gone.” I consoled her, wiping the still-wet tears off of her ruffled feathers. “More importantly, are you hurt?” I checked her over, examining her lithe body from multiple angles.
She thought about that for a little while, then sat up, stretching a wing. She let out a cry of pain once it was half-way extended and brought it back down gingerly, wrapping a wing around her upper shoulder. I reached forward out of sympathy, my maternal instincts moving me to comfort her.
“Oh, Jild.. L-Let me see, honey.” I crooned. She heavily reminded me of my eldest, only daughter, and it was amusing how alike they were, despite being of different species.
I tenderly prodded the dull side of my hoof-paw against her supposed injured appendage, trailing it up towards her shoulder, which earned a startled chirp from her, followed by a slight jump away from my touch. The area of where her wing met her shoulder was bruised a deep purple, visible even beneath her feathers from where she collided with the tree. I was beyond grateful that nothing had broken, or even shattered. That would require extensive care, and we were lightyears away from the nearest hospital.
“How d-does it look, Illia? W-Will I be ok?” She sniffled, caressing her discolored limb while being mindful of its positioning. Sadness etched itself across my face, but I forced a hopeful look in Kiran’s favor. Thankfully, the bruising was the extent of her injuries, none of which were life threatening, though were still in need of urgent medical attention. The most I would be able to do would be to give her painkillers and make a sling for her.
Our best option now is to find Orsik and the rest of the crew.
“It’s.. fine, honey. Don’t you worry. I’ll get you fixed up, and you’ll feel all better, ok?” I said while rummaging through my bag for my first aid kit. I had a thorough understanding of how to dress wounds, as well as the proper medical procedures that came with it. Kiran would need her arm immobilized so that any further injury could be avoided. We’d better find help soon, I can only help her so much. I internalized.
Pulling out the kit, I took out a bottle containing the painkillers and a small, square-shaped piece of cloth, which unfolded into a much longer strand of fabric. I cautiously draped the cloth along her shoulder, positioning her arm along her abdomen much to her discomfort, and tied it off. Her arm was now fully supported, and the risk of worsening the injury had decreased. Feeling satisfied with my work, I grabbed the vial of painkillers, urging her to take one. I then grabbed one of the large bottles of water from my pack, holding it a distance away from her beak. “Drink, sweetie.” She welcomed the fluid into her mouth, tilting her head back as I poured the bottle. She eagerly chugged down the substance in record time, unmistakably parched. It had probably been a while since her last drink of water.
I leaned back and returned the now empty bottle to my bag, and observed her checking out my handiwork. Her gaze met the ground suddenly, and she froze, her eyes glossing over. I waited for her to say something, anything. Her abrupt silence was starting to worry me.
“Sweetie?” She gazed off into the distance, no doubt reliving her near-death experience. “Are you alright?” I nudged her, snapping her attention back to me. Tears began to bubble in those wide eyes of hers again; her grip on my jumpsuit tightened, and her hackles raised. She was visibly shaking.
“It.. it came out of n-nowhere. I could feel it w-watching m-me, even before I s-saw it. It.. I knew it w-was there, and th-then.. She whimpered. T-there was so m-much blood, and I-I.. Her voice was hoarse, describing her contact with the predator. “I-I was.. Was so s-scared.. I-I’ve never been more scared b-before in my life..” She choked the words out. “I didn’t know what to do, I-I couldn’t m-move.”
I lay my head gently on top of her own. “That’s just your instincts kicking in, honey.” I assured her. “Everyone has them.” I felt her rapid heartbeat slow gradually as she listened to my words. “You’re safe. Relax, my sweet.” The corners of my mouth turned up in a smile. “I am very proud of you, setting up camp all by yourself. You’ve proven to be very strong and capable out on your own.” My smile died down a bit. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come sooner, but I didn’t forget our promise.”
She released her tight grip on me, reeling back and looking at me with one eye. She swallowed. “Neither did I. I-I knew you would come, so I w-waited.” There was a pause after that, the both of us glad to be in each other's presence. “Thank you, Illia.”
I flicked my ears toward her, and my grin grew wider. “Of course. Let’s get out of here.” I stood up on my hind hooves with a grunt, stretching out my tired muscles. I extended my paw downward towards her, and she took it with her uninjured wing. I helped the virtually weightless girl to her talons, and hefted my backpack over my shoulders. My poor spine ached in protest, practically begging for a break. “Ready?” I turned my head towards her.
“Illia?” She spoke after a moment, craning her neck up towards me.
“Yes, Kiran?”
“That thing, the h-human.. Did you k-kill it? Where did it go?” A worried look crossed her avian features, waiting for my response. I wouldn’t want to worry the poor girl, but I don’t want to lie to her, either.
I inhaled sharply after a moment, inadvertently giving away the answer to Kiran even before my admission. Her brows upturned slightly with worry. My own eyes latched onto hers, and I breathed a sigh, confirming her suspicion.
“Y-you.. You didn’t kill it?! It’s still out there?! Oh, Inatala..” Her feeble legs wobbled, and I kept her from falling over. “W-why? Illia.. Y-you should have killed it when you had the chance! How is it e-even here? Did it f-follow us?!” The distraught avian squawked in alarm, and my ears flattened in response from the sudden change in pitch.
The loud krakotl girl was likely to attract unwanted attention, with how boisterous she was currently. I gently clasped a hoof-paw around her beak, attempting to silence her. “Hey! Calm down, sweetie. Deep breaths. We’re not on Nishtal, or anywhere else. Remember? There’s bound to be predators around here, so we have to be quiet.” That silenced her instantly. “Please, for both of our sakes.” I concernedly whispered. Her frantic chirping died down, and I released my paw.
I inhaled deeply, my lungs pulling in the night’s chilly air. I’d have to answer the many questions that she has bombarded me with now, lest her little heart stops.
A long breath escaped my lips. “I hesitated. I.. I couldn’t pull the trigger, knowing that I would be ending the life of a sapient, living creature. Killing is wrong, regardless of whether it’s prey or predator. I refuse to stoop down to its level.” I explained my actions. “As to how it got here, we must have picked it up somewhere around the time when we boarded the bomber ship. I had a suspicion earlier, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” I was sorely tempted to put the murderous bastard out of its misery then and there, but it didn’t sit right with me.
She clicked silently to herself, the gears slowly turning in her head.
“I-I thought something was wrong, on the ship, with how you were staring at the door. I was w-worried..” She nervously fidgeted, her talons puncturing the surface she stood on. “Uhm, why.. W-why does the human want to k-kill me? What d-did I do?” She timidly met my gaze again, glancing up at me with watery eyes.
I snorted, raising a four-digit paw and setting it down gently on her uninjured shoulder.
“It isn’t you, Kiran. Killing is in a predator’s nature, their bloodlust drives them crazy. They can’t help it even if they tried, that’s why we can’t live in peace.” I snorted, angering myself over my own rant. “I just wish that we had finished the job.” I muttered, referring to erasing humanity from existence.
Something else was plastered on her face now, something not dissimilar to a look of betrayal. “Illia?” She gulped. “D-do.. do you have predator disease?” Her voice was unsteady, but at the same time, nothing but a faint whisper.
Those words rekindled a flame in me that I thought to be snuffed out a while ago. I snorted angrily, outraged that she would even ask me such a thing, after I had saved her life. She would be dead if I hadn’t intervened, but here she was, accusing me of being the very thing that I had saved her from.
The adrenaline in my system dissipated as I stared into her frightened eyes, and I restrained myself from throwing a fit. Kiran was young, and couldn’t comprehend that predator disease wasn’t an actual illness, but instead was a way for the Federation to retain its chokehold over its citizenry. Though, I wasn’t about to berate the girl over flawed conspiracy theories. She clearly knew nothing of the pain it caused, as naive as she was.
But I knew it well.
She was as stiff as the trees surrounding us, eyeing me expectantly. I felt a pang of sadness as I noticed that she even stepped back a few paces, away from my reach. The Federation had indoctrinated her far beyond the point of recovery with their nonsensical rhetoric. It was insane to think that one misguided accusation was all it took to break apart the bond between two people. There was no use reasoning with her, but I could try.
Is that how she saw me? A predator? That caused me more pain than any weapon could physically inflict, especially coming from her. Where did this even come from? I was nowhere close to matching the Humans’ brutality, or even the Arxurs’, and yet, she still regarded me as one of them.
I released a snort, dismissing the indirect insult. “No.” I said sternly, clearly heartbroken, as much as I tried to mask it. “Honey, we’ve known each other for quite a while. If I truly had.. ‘Predator disease’, don’t you think I would have shown signs of it by now?” I left the question in the air as Kiran attempted to make sense of my reasonable statement. “Well?”
“T-That makes sense..” Her voice cracked.
“Don’t you trust me, Kiran? Why would you ask such a thing?” My own voice wavered as my heart split down the middle, waiting for her reply. Although, I knew what it would be.
“I do.” She squawked a little while after, catching me completely off-guard. “It’s just.. I-I heard you, threatening the p-predator. Y-You were so b-brave, and instead of running the other way, you just.. held it at gunpoint, and shooed it away from me. You weren’t s-scared at all, even when it wanted to kill you.” She gulped.
“Of course I was scared. I was terrified.” I pleaded. “But I couldn’t just stand back and do nothing, not while your life was at stake. I had to be strong, whatever the cost. It would forever haunt me if I had left you to die, to save myself. I would n-never, I c-couldn’t..” I whimpered through ragged breaths, a dam of emotion bursting through my guise of strength. “I have known nothing but pain and anguish since I set hoof on this planet. I’ve already lost so much, and losing you would absolutely destroy me.” I sobbed, gasping for air. I felt embarrassed, having Kiran see me in my current state. I had tried so hard to be strong for her, but the events of this past week have finally caught up to me.
I wept, hiding my tears in the crook of my elbow. I felt a warm touch caress my upper arm, and I moved my arm away from my eyes. Looking down, Kiran had moved closer to me with a comforting smile on her face. It would seem that she had discarded the ‘sulean predator’ claim after witnessing the humiliating waterworks display in front of her.
“I believe you.” She smiled with her eyes. Relief washed through me instantly. She was the one person in the Federation who had wanted to be my friend, let alone even talk to me. Despite being on a mystery planet with a slim chance of escape, she was a light in the darkness. I hope she knows what she means to me.
I grew a smile of my own and latched onto her in another embrace, being careful not to disturb her shoulder. I snorted through my nose contentedly. “Thank you.” I sniffed. Although startled at first, she returned the hug, squeezing me tightly. While embraced, for a brief moment all of my worries had faded away, replaced by a feeling of adoration and hope. We departed from each other, our bond reinstated.
“See? I’m not foaming at the mouth, am I? Guess I’m not a predator after all.” I joked, hoping it would be well received. I gently tickled her side with my hooved manipulators, causing her to giggle.
“Ok, ok! I trust you! The little one laughed, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes. Her breathing returned to a calm pace. “So. Where to now?”
“What do you mean, little one?” I inquired. “It’s pitch black out there, surely you’re not thinking of heading out now, are you? The human is still out there, and it probably isn’t the only thing we have to worry about.” Wandering through the wilderness in the dead of night wasn’t the best idea, with the looming threat of predators. We’d have to make do here, where our chances of surviving the night were slim enough as it was.
“O-Oh, yeah, you’re right. I-I’m just.. scared that it may come back.” She sheepishly admitted.
“Listen to me.” I met her frightful gaze. “I will not let that thing hurt you ever again. Not while I’m still here.” A motherly tone painted my words, although sounding a bit too harsh.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I smiled. “Is there only one tent?” I switched the subject.
“Uh, y-yeah, sorry. Is it ok if we share?” She asked while walking up to the circular formation, opening it up.
“Of course.” The exchange was awkward, but we had to make do with what little we had. I climbed inside of the tent after her after taking out my floodlight, switching it on and setting it down directly in front of the tent’s flap, facing towards the shadowy trees. That’d provide us extra security, I hoped. I set my bag down onto the tent’s floor, feeling much better now without it weighing me down.
I plopped down onto my natural state on all fours. I had been ambling on my hind hooves for most of my stay on this planet, and had forgotten the comfort of having my weight equally distributed throughout my body. The muscles in my back ached, and I slid down and rolled onto my side, being able to relax at long last. I scooted my backpack towards me, intending to use it as a makeshift pillow. I released a snort of contentment as I rested my skull on the surprisingly comfortable rucksack. , the tent floor being surprisingly comfortable. A tired yawn escaped me, and my tongue lolled out of my mouth on autopilot as I felt my eyelids droop.
As much as I had wanted to sleep, I wouldn’t be able to, not with the threat of danger still lurking in the forest. We were most vulnerable while sleeping, especially while it was still dark outside. The fire was still going and was fairly close to our tent, but I wouldn’t trust that it would completely protect us from predators. I groggily sat up from my makeshift restplace and shook myself awake, followed by a tired groan. I grasped my forehooves around the weapon that I had clumsily discarded onto the tent’s floor, checking the railgun’s ammunition. Dread hit me with the realization that I was down to a singular bolt. That didn’t make me feel entirely secure, but it was better than nothing at all.
I looked to Kiran, who was already tucked in and ready for the next day. She lay down on a blue sleeping bag, completely enveloped inside of it, except for her head. I chuckled to myself while watching the adorable child snuggle inside of the bag that was far too big for her size.
She caught me staring at her. “Illia?” She spoke, cutting out the crackling of burning wood for a moment.
“Yes, dear?” I yawned again, the tiredness taking over me became unbearable at this point.
“W-What’s the plan for tomorrow?” She asked me with an inquisitive inflection in her voice.
“Well, I would imagine that we’d try to find Orsik. That’s really the only option we have right now. That way, you can be treated by an actual doctor, and not a silly sulean.” I quipped.
“I-I don’t think you’re s-silly..” She admitted meekly.
I faced her, flattered by her comment. I smiled. “Thank you, sweetie. That is very nice of you to say.” A light in the darkness. I crawled over to her, resting on my side next to where she lay. I had my weapon at the ready with a forehoof resting on top of it. I looked down at her adoringly as she shuffled inside of her covers. “Sweet dreams. I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll go looking for everyone else tomorrow.”
“What about the ship? Shouldn’t we go there?” One of her blue eyes studied me.
“I came from there, it’s nothing but a smoking heap of metal now.” I yawned. “We shouldn’t move too far away, Orsik said he’ll come to us. Besides, we’re safer here than out in the dark, right?”
Kiran whimpered, not satisfied with my answer. “Remember our promise?” I asked.
Her deflated look withered away. “Y-yes, I do..” She breathed. “O-ok, only if that means that we can leave as soon as they f-find us.”
“Of course. We won’t stay here longer than is absolutely necessary. I’ll get a signal started in the morning.”
“A-Aren’t you worried about predators? What if they come while w-we’re sleeping?”
I lay my head down onto my satchel. “I am.” I admitted. “And I would prefer not to meet them anytime soon. I think it’s a great sign that we haven’t already.” I gave a dismissive snort, hoping that was the last of her questions. “They won’t bother us, at least not tonight. The floodlight should keep them away, no worries.” I reassured her.
“Oh, ok. Good night, Illia.” She chirped.
“Good night. Sweet dreams, little one.” I caressed her feathers, then committed myself to watching the tent’s opening for the rest of the night.
- - -
I awoke, cursing after realizing that I had been asleep. I didn’t expect myself to be awake for the entire duration of the night, but I was still upset with myself for giving in to my fatigue. Something could have happened, but I was glad nothing did. I was still tired, having stayed awake for most of the night watching over Kiran. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes with a forepaw. My railgun was still grasped in my other forepaw, and I brought the gun up to my hip, holstering it.
Some of my worries over the human still being out there somewhere had faltered; perhaps it lost interest after witnessing my display of superior strength? Predators preferred a challenge when hunting, but their small brains understood when the odds were not in their favor. This human in particular probably saw our small group as easy pickings, and had developed a taste for krakotl flesh. That’d explain the blood spattered all over it, almost as if it were a trophy.
I looked at Kiran, who was still sound asleep. The beautiful orange of this planet’s sun filtered in through the translucent barrier surrounding us; its angelic rays permeated throughout the tent and casted a wondrous shine onto her dull blue feathers.
I yawned, standing up on all fours and leaned into a stretch. The soreness had worn off, and I was ready for another long journey, this time with the presence of my avian friend. I had another long day of strengthening my hind legs, no doubt. I just hope that the rest of the crew were close.
I unzipped my dirty jumpsuit, checking my small cuts. They seemed to be in relatively good shape and had scabbed over, leaving a soreness behind. After confirming that the wounds weren’t infected, I zipped my uniform back up.
I gently shook the sleeping Kiran awake. “Good morning, sleepy. It’s time to head out.” I whispered softly. She stirred and sat up. “Are you hungry? I have some rations.” I reached for my pack, snatching two cans of processed vegetable bars and handed one to her. “You need to eat to keep your strength up, honey.” I dug into my own helping quite quickly, stowing away the empty can. It wasn’t the best tasting thing in the galaxy as it was made specifically for the krakotls’ sophisticated palate. “How did you sleep?” I spoke between mouthfuls. She ate hers bit by bit, to the best of her ability. I imagine it would be difficult to eat something with a beak as narrow as hers was, so I patiently waited for her to finish.
“I slept well, actually.” She faced me, full of youthful vigor. It was almost as though her self confidence had drastically improved overnight. She stretched her good wing out, and checked the sling on the other. Once she was done with her helping, she got up, brushing her manipulators through her feathers. “How about you, Illia?”
“Good! I’m glad. Me, I slept like a fawn.” I fibbed, stifling another yawn. “Oh, let me take that from you, sweetheart.” I motioned to her empty vegetable bar container. I collected the tin from her, tossing it along with the other. I reached for my bag, leaving the heavy non-essentials inside the tent. I slugged it over my shoulder once more, my spine thanking me for lightening the load. The pack’s weight felt far more manageable than it did before. I might even be able to actually walk around with it this time. I wondered.
“Are we ready to go?” I stood in front of the tent, raising a forehoof to unzip us to freedom. The krakotl girl chirped her affirmative after checking herself over, and we both exited the tent, ready for another adventure. Upon leaving, I was extremely surprised to see that I didn’t even have to reignite the fire, as it was still burning, although not as strong as yesterday. The crimson tree that Kiran had made the campfire out of was highly flammable, if I had to guess. That would explain the randomly scorched trees throughout the landscape that I saw earlier. I was relieved that none of them combusted while we were asleep.
“Alright. Let’s head this way, shall we?” I plucked some of the damp yellow moss from a neighboring tree with a spare piece of fabric in between my hooves in case it was an irritant, which was smart thinking on my behalf. I chucked the large bundle into the blaze, smothering the few flames that remained. The fire choked for a moment, then began eating away at the moss, emitting a white column of smoke that snaked towards the light orange of the morning sky.
We checked if we had everything, then started on our expedition. I wasn’t sure where we’d go first, but it would have to be relatively close to where the campfire was in case anyone was nearby. I eyed the skyline before us, the mountains in the distance were a wonderful gradient of bright reds, purples, and yellows, perfectly blending together.
I breathed in the fresh morning air. This would have been a delightful trip, were we on a civilized planet. It still was, to an extent. The native organisms of this untouched wonder of a planet were truly a sight to behold, regardless of its many dangers. From the vivid colors of the flora to the deep red sky watching overhead, everything about this world was eye-catching.
We ventured throughout the crimson woods, encircling the campsite while keeping an eye on the smoke signal so that we wouldn’t veer off-course too much. I also was wary of the tall grass and dense shrubs around us, concentrating on even the slightest noise or movement. Today was particularly windy, so my efforts were in vain. We kept to the more open areas, even if that meant making sharp detours around areas where a predator could be concealed in.
Every now and then we would stop for a break, as I had done before. Kiran fared well during our hike, if not even better than I. We stopped underneath the shade of some crimson trees for another rest after a long while. I unpacked one of our water bottles, taking a small swig before handing it to Kiran. We rationed our supplies as best as we could, but we were quickly running out of food. We would soon have to resort to checking if the local flora were edible.
The smoke signal was still in my sight, and we only had a small distance to go in order to complete our full circle. I had thought about calling out into the woods, but decided against it, as it was likely that we would attract unwanted attention. I felt extremely uncomfortable within the dark woodland, despite having a firearm in my possession.
I lay on the grassy floor on my side, attempting to cool myself off. Kiran was doing much of the same, though in a sitting posture. I lifted my head up, snorting through my nostrils to get her attention.
“Having fun?” I smirked playfully. She clicked her beak together with amusement.
“I would be, if the sun wasn’t burning into my feathers.” She squawked between pants. She rested her head against a rock that put even the brightest of rainbows to shame.
“It’s not all bad, is it? It's all about perspective; look at the positives! You have to learn to appreciate the little things in life.”
“Ok, I appreciate..” She glanced around her surroundings, looking for something of value. “I appreciate this rock, does that count?” She gestured behind her. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It is quite the rock, isn’t it?” She giggled in response. I adored bonding with the girl, she was almost an extension of my own child, in a way.
I didn’t find it odd or strange at the time to fawn over the beauty of an inanimate object, as we both admired its various colors. “Alright, that’s enough geology for me, I think.” I stood, dusting myself off. I heard a faint snapping sound, and my eyes traveled back to the avian, who now looked absolutely petrified, a lone eye focusing on me. She looked almost as scared as she had been when the human attacked her, but this is far worse. Is she looking at me?
I tilted my head in confusion. “Honey? Y-you’re scaring me.” I chuckled nervously. “What’s wrong?” She gave no response. I suddenly felt a massive surge of anxiety wrack my brain, and my ears perked up. The same feeling that haunted me on the ship returned for a comeback, and this time, my question didn’t have to be answered. I heard shuffling a good distance away from me, and I whipped my head in that direction, following her blank stare. My ribcage tightened as I struggled to breathe. I watched the tall grass adjacent from our position, waiting for something to happen.
The first thing I saw were its horrible forward-facing eyes with slit pupils, instantly recognizing it as a predator. They both were dilated, intent on feasting on our bloody flesh. The feral predator observed me with its piercing golden orbs as it slunk closer. It stalked towards us with its head low to the ground, stray droplets of drool spilling out of its long, gaping maw of which were lined with dozens of razor-sharp teeth capable of effortlessly crushing bone.
I didn’t know what exactly I was looking at, but I knew it was there. The beast prowled out of the tall grass in short strides with its ghastly head low to the ground, drooling over our new and alien scent. The lengthy blades of grass combed over its rainbow-colored hide as it revealed itself. Both it and the grass were a near match in terms of coloration, as I strained my eyes to focus on its appearance.
As it moved further into the light, I was able to get a better glimpse of it. The creature itself was covered in skin instead of fur, which was odd. The upper body of the animal was speckled with various bright colors that mimicked the grass, only for it to darken as the pattern stretched towards its underbelly, and morphed into a full jet black where it reached its clawed feet. I had never feared death before as much as I did right now.
I snapped myself out of my terrified stupor, jumping up to my hind hooves and quickly yanking my railgun out of its holster, jabbing it towards the thing with shaky hooves. I gasped for air as my lungs felt heavy, staring down the freak of nature. My heart sank even further and nearly burst out of my chest as I saw two other predators just like the first emerge from behind it. Oh, fuck. The weapon in my hoof suddenly seemed insignificant.
My eyes widened. We have to leave, now. I grabbed Kiran without a word, pulling her along rather roughly. I dashed as fast as my legs could take me while gripping around the length of Kiran’s wing. I didn’t look back once, only focused on making it back to the tent. There was no guarantee that the fire at the campsite would dissuade them from indulging in their hunger at all, but what other option did we have? I glanced back, and was horrified to realize that the reason why they didn’t already tear us apart was because they were giving us a head start. The monstrous things were playing with their ‘food’, for fun.
I looked down to Kiran, then up to the smoke rising from the campsite. We wouldn’t make it in time. I had to make a choice. I swallowed with teary eyes. ‘’G-go.” I flicked an ear towards the campsite. “Now!” I squealed. She obeyed my order without hesitation, and fluttered over that way.
I was not at all prepared for what I was about to do, and doing so would most definitely result in my death. Weeping, I stood in place as the grayish-blue feathered girl escaped to safety.
“H-hey!” I bleated at the top of my lungs while hopping around vigorously, doing everything in my power to attract the predator’s attention towards me. “Over here!” My voice was hoarse, filled with a mixture of emotions. I hope Kiran will be able to forgive me.
All three of their large heads whipped towards me, my diversion evidently working. I holstered my weapon and turned tail, speeding the opposite way and galloping wherever my legs would take me. I leaped through twisted trees only large enough for me to fit through, and hopped over large rocks, hoping it would slow the monsters down.
Just when I thought I was clear, my hind leg unfortunately latched underneath a root peeking out of the ground, forcing me into a halt. I stopped moving instantly as my momentum ceased, and a sharp pain shot through my ankle. I yelped in distress, my upper body smacking onto the dirt with a hard thud. I whined as my weapon was flung out of its holster, landing in front of me. I crawled towards the weapon with all of my remaining strength.
The predators sauntered over, a threatening growl reverberating through the pack’s leader. I crawled towards my last chance at living, finally reaching it. I fitted my fumbling fingers around the weapon as the predator leader charged toward me while I turned around, leveling the weapon with the rainbow demon’s skull. I expelled a single and final shot as the round soared through its nose, expelling a fountain of brain matter behind it as it fell limp, a couple of feet away from me. The other two creatures were taken aback at first, but were now furious that I had dispatched their leader. I was hit with the horrific realization that I had just used the last of my ammunition.
They slowly pressed onward as I lay on my back, a hideous expression of hunger plastered on their flesh-eating faces. I shut my eyes tight, bracing for an excruciating death. Is this it? Is this how I die? At least I can rest well knowing that Kiran is safe. Please, don’t let my death be for nothing. I prayed to whatever deity was listening. Let my family I lo-
My thoughts were interrupted by a sickening crack, followed by the predator closest to me snapping its head back and toppling over, painted by its own viscous blood that spilled out of a gaping wound in its skull. It had taken a clean shot to the side of the head, dying as soon as the projectile had landed. The third predator scampered away after hearing the loud noise, staring daggers into whatever it was that ended the life of its friend. It tucked its tail between its legs in submission, hissing towards my savior before retreating back to where it came from. What on Jild just happened?
I turned my head to my side slowly, still wary of my surroundings. Right next to me was the same human whom I had spared earlier, with its signature metal pipe still strapped to its back. Its arm was outstretched towards the dead predator, with a terran-made weapon grasped in its paw. It lowered the gun down to its side, and I screamed as it began stomping towards me, intending to claim its stolen kill. “O-Oh, Jild, no! P-please, don-don’t eat me!” I cried, trying to reason with the predator. Without thinking, I mindlessly raised the spent railgun up to the thing in an attempt to shoot it, and it retaliated, wrapping its gloved fingers around the weapon. It effortlessly ripped the useless gun away from my grasp with a mighty paw, tossed it to the side, and wrapped its paw around my body.
My nightmares were coming true. I would be eaten alive, without remorse. I would much rather have died at the fangs of the feral predators instead of the human’s. The human would take its time as it stripped me of my flesh, feeding on my suffering.
I was lifted up slightly with incredible strength while screaming my head off, struggling to worm away from its mighty grasp. I squirmed violently, not having enough air in me to continue screaming. The murderer held the gun’s muzzle up to my neck and uttered a single sentence with a deep, growling rumble: “Stop fucking moving.”
My translator implant belted out the meaning to me and I stupidly followed its orders and froze. I shut up, both terrified and surprised that it could understand me or even articulate comprehensive words. I was fully expecting it to sink its fangs into me, but instead the masked figure slipped the straps of my bag off of my shoulders, dropping me onto the ground and taking my satchel. It began to search through it diligently, tossing out what wasn’t to its liking. The human took out the last of my water supply along with my medkit and interestingly enough, a few of my vegetable bars. It tossed my near-empty bag back to me and slung its own massive bag around, stuffing the supplies inside.
I could only watch as it stole what little supplies I had left. For a moment, I was filled with pure, unbridled rage, replacing my fear with anger. “You m-monster!” I stood on my hind hooves, ignoring the pain burning through my right ankle and attempted to make myself appear as big as I could. “Y-you killed them!” I shouted at the emotionless predator. It had ripped my colleagues to shreds until they were unrecognizable, and it would pay. It in turn slightly tilted its mask towards me, unimpressed. I shrunk back down as its gaze fell upon me, and my ears flattened to my skull.
A low rumble came from it, which my translator picked up on as a chuckle. It was laughing. How dare you?! I snorted angrily. “You.. you’re.. Laughing? Wh-What is wrong with you?!” I yelled at the deranged predator. At that moment I wished I could go back in time and pull the trigger.
“I’m the monster. That’s funny.” It sadistically remarked. “I’m not the one who bombed an entire planet full of billions of innocent women and children.” It turned to face me fully, stalking over to me in angered steps. My posture tightened as I cowered in fear; its hulking shadow blocked out the sun above me. This was the closest I had ever been to the human, or any predator, really. It could probably smell the copious amount of fear that my body was producing.
“I should kill you right fucking now.” It growled with its deep, venomous tone. It held its weapon tightly to its side, threatening to break it. The being relented, apparently deciding against it. Wasn’t it going to eat me?
It stood there, staring down at me, unmoving. “W-why?” I whined. “Why did you.. k-kill them?!”
“You’ll have to be more specific.” It taunted me. My anger only grew.
“The.. the forest. Admit it! You killed them! I s-saw, I was there! Only a predator can do what you d-did!” I gasped, not meeting its gaze.
“Forest?” It scoffed. “What the fuck are you going on about?”
What?! That made no sense.. Assuming it really didn’t know what I was referring to.. Had it not killed that group of krakotl? No, that can’t be. Is this a case of predatory deceit?
“Wh-wha..” I stammered, confused.
“If you’re talking about the ship, that was me.” It boasted, speaking of the murderous act almost as if it were proud of it, which sickened me to the core. “I enjoyed every second of watching those featherfucks gasping for air, pawing at the airlock. I’d do it again, if I could.” Its grating voice resonated through my bones.
"Monster!" I exclaimed in agony, with a red hot rage coursing through my veins. I was furious over the monster’s admittance of murdering the bomber ship's crew.
The murderer cut me off as I breathed to speak, instantly shutting me down. "I may be a monster, but know this:" It leaned forward until I could see my own reflection in its bloodstained mask. "I am a monster of your own making." It spoke harshly, sending shivers down my spine.
I felt a wealth of various feelings welling up inside me, none of which I could openly express. I could only stand there, waiting for its next move.
It spoke again, “I’ll give you one last chance: you stay far away from your friends, especially that fucking bird, unless you want to die. Next time I won’t hesitate to kill you.” It proclaimed with a gravelly voice. It unfolded upward, straightening its spine. It then turned, walking away with its bounty into the wilderness once again, leaving me alone and confused.
Why on Jild did it save me? That made no sense whatsoever, and went against everything I had been taught. Did it really hold back its bloodlust just to taunt me over how much it loved killing? Why didn’t it eat me while I was vulnerable?
Multiple questions flooded my mind, and I had developed a headache that was worsening by the second.
With the human gone, I was left to my own devices. I picked up the scattered contents of my pack, recollecting them.
I heard the rustling of leaves across from me and I whipped around, facing the source of the noise. I was too spent emotionally to even process fear with my body mass producing adrenaline. I could do nothing but lean against a lone stump as I accepted my fate.
I had a good run.
- - -
V V V [STORY IS CONTINUED IN THE COMMENTS!!!] V V V
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please read the article in full here:
https://www.propublica.org/article/toxmap-poison-in-the-air
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The EPA allows polluters to turn neighborhoods into “sacrifice zones” where residents breathe carcinogens. ProPublica reveals where these places are in a first-of-its-kind map and data analysis.
by Lylla Younes, Ava Kofman, Al Shaw and Lisa Song, with additional reporting by Maya Miller, photography by Kathleen Flynn for ProPublica Nov. 2, 2021, 5 a.m. EDT
Leer en español.
From the urban sprawl of Houston to the riverways of Virginia, air pollution from industrial plants is elevating the cancer risk of an estimated quarter of a million Americans to a level the federal government considers unacceptable.
Some of these hot spots of toxic air are infamous. An 85-mile stretch of the Mississippi River in Louisiana that’s thronged with oil refineries and chemical plants has earned the nickname Cancer Alley. Many other such areas remain unknown, even to residents breathing in the contaminated air.
Until now.
ProPublica undertook an analysis that has never been done before. Using advanced data processing software and a modeling tool developed by the Environmental Protection Agency, we mapped the spread of cancer-causing chemicals from thousands of sources of hazardous air pollution across the country between 2014 and 2018. The result is an unparalleled view of how toxic air blooms around industrial facilities and spreads into nearby neighborhoods.
📷 The Most Detailed Map of Cancer-Causing Industrial Air Pollution in the U.S.
At the map’s intimate scale, it’s possible to see up close how a massive chemical plant near a high school in Port Neches, Texas, laces the air with benzene, an aromatic gas that can cause leukemia. Or how a manufacturing facility in New Castle, Delaware, for years blanketed a day care playground with ethylene oxide, a highly toxic chemical that can lead to lymphoma and breast cancer. Our analysis found that ethylene oxide is the biggest contributor to excess industrial cancer risk from air pollutants nationwide. Corporations across the United States, but especially in Texas and Louisiana, manufacture the colorless, odorless gas, which lingers in the air for months and is highly mutagenic, meaning it can alter DNA.
In all, ProPublica identified more than a thousand hot spots of cancer-causing air. They are not equally distributed across the country. A quarter of the 20 hot spots with the highest levels of excess risk are in Texas, and almost all of them are in Southern states known for having weaker environmental regulations. Census tracts where the majority of residents are people of color experience about 40% more cancer-causing industrial air pollution on average than tracts where the residents are mostly white. In predominantly Black census tracts, the estimated cancer risk from toxic air pollution is more than double that of majority-white tracts.
After reviewing ProPublica’s map, Wayne Davis, an environmental scientist formerly with the EPA’s Office of Chemical Safety and Pollution Prevention, said, “The public is going to learn that EPA allows a hell of a lot of pollution to occur that the public does not think is occurring.”
Our analysis comes at a critical juncture for the fate of America’s air. After decades of improvement, air quality has, by some metrics, begun to decline. In the last four years, the Trump administration rolled back more than a hundred environmental protections, including two dozen air pollution and emissions policies.
The EPA says it “strives to protect the greatest number of people possible” from an excess cancer risk worse than 1 in a million. That risk level means that if a million people in an area are continuously exposed to toxic air pollutants over a presumed lifetime of 70 years, there would likely be at least one case of cancer on top of those from other risks people already face. According to ProPublica’s analysis, 74 million Americans — more than a fifth of the population — are being exposed to estimated levels of risk higher than this.
EPA policy sets the upper limit of acceptable excess cancer risk at 1 in 10,000 — 100 times more than the EPA’s more aspirational goal and a level of exposure that numerous experts told ProPublica is too high. ProPublica found that an estimated 256,000 people are being exposed to risks beyond this threshold and that an estimated 43,000 people are being subjected to at least triple this level of risk. Still, the EPA sees crossing its risk threshold as more of a warning sign than a mandate for action: The law doesn’t require the agency to penalize polluters that, alone or in combination, raise the cancer risk in an area above the acceptable level.
In response to ProPublica’s findings, Joe Goffman, acting assistant administrator for the EPA’s Office of Air and Radiation, said in an emailed statement, “Toxic air emissions from industrial facilities are a problem that must be addressed.” Under President Joe Biden’s administration, “the EPA has reinvigorated its commitment to protect public health from toxic air emissions from industrial facilities — especially in communities that have already suffered disproportionately from air pollution and other environmental burdens.”
ProPublica’s reporting exposes flaws with EPA’s implementation of the Clean Air Act, a landmark law that dramatically reduced air pollution across America but provided less protection to those who live closest to industrial polluters.
The 1970 law resulted in outdoor air quality standards for a handful of widespread “criteria” pollutants, including sulfur dioxide and particulate matter, which could be traced to exhaust pipes and smokestacks all over the country and were proven to aggravate asthma and lead to early deaths. But 187 other dangerous chemicals, now known as hazardous air pollutants or air toxics, never got this level of attention. At the time, the science demonstrating the harms of these compounds, which primarily impact people in neighborhoods that border industrial facilities — so-called fence line communities — was still in its early stages. The EPA did not receive enough funding to set the same strict limits, and industry lobbying weakened the agency’s emerging regulations.
In 1990, Congress settled on a different approach to regulating air toxics. Since then, the EPA has made companies install equipment to reduce their pollution and studied the remaining emissions to see if they pose an unacceptable health risk.
The way the agency assesses this risk vastly underestimates residents’ exposure, according to our analysis. Instead of looking at how cancer risk adds up when polluters are clustered together in a neighborhood, the EPA examines certain types of facilities and equipment in isolation. When the agency studies refineries, for example, it ignores a community’s exposure to pollution from nearby metal foundries or shipyards.
Matthew Tejada, director of the EPA’s Office of Environmental Justice, told ProPublica that tackling hot spots of toxic air will require “working back through 50 years of environmental regulation in the United States, and unpacking and untying a whole series of knots.”
Top Polluters
T​​he cancer-causing air emissions from these five corporations cover more populated square miles than the emissions from any other companies, according to our analysis.

• The Dow Chemical Company
• Huntsman Corp.
• Eastman Chemical Co.
• BASF
• LyondellBasell Industries

Most of these companies did not comment; Eastman said, “Not all risk is due to industrial activity, however, we continue to do our part to reduce risk and emissions to ensure the safety of our local community.”
“The environmental regulatory system wasn’t set up to deal with these things,” he said. “All of the parts of the system have to be re-thought to address hot spots or places where we know there’s a disproportionate burden.”
The Clean Air Act rarely requires industry or the EPA to monitor for air toxics, leaving residents near these plants chronically uninformed about what they’re breathing in. And when companies report their emissions to the EPA, they’re allowed to estimate them using flawed formulas and monitoring methods.
“These fence line communities are sacrifice zones,” said Jane Williams, executive director of California Communities Against Toxics. “Before there was climate denial, there was cancer denial. We release millions of pounds of carcinogens into our air, water and food and act mystified when people start getting sick.”
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please read the full article here:
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The cancer risks from industrial pollution can be compounded by factors like age, diet, genetic predisposition and exposure to radiation; the knock-on effect of inhaling toxic air for decades might, for example, mean the difference between merely having a family history of breast cancer and actually developing the disease yourself. While the cancer and asthma rates in Houston’s Harris County are comparable with those in the rest of the state, Texas officials have identified cancer clusters in several of the city’s neighborhoods.
Large swaths of the Greater Houston area make up the third-biggest hot spot of cancer-causing air in the country, according to our analysis, after Louisiana’s Cancer Alley and an area around Port Arthur, Texas, which is on the Louisiana border. For many homes closest to the fence lines of petrochemical plants in cities like La Porte and Port Neches, Texas, the estimated excess risk of cancer ranges from three to six times the level that the EPA considers acceptable.
But because of the way that the EPA underestimates risk, the true dangers of living in a toxic hot spot are often invisible to regulators and residents.
The agency breaks things down into the smallest possible categories “to avoid addressing what we call cumulative risk,” said John Walke, an attorney at the Natural Resources Defense Council who formerly worked as an EPA lawyer advising the Office of Air and Radiation. “But our bodies do not parse out air pollution according to rule labels or industrial equipment or industrial source categories.” The cancer risk from each facility or type of equipment may be at levels the agency considers “acceptable,” but taken together, the potential harms can be substantial.
The EPA initially sent ProPublica a statement saying that it “ensures that risks from individual source categories are acceptable and that the standards provide an ample margin of safety to protect public health.”
In another statement sent after an interview, the agency added, “We understand that communities often confront multiple sources of toxic air pollution and face cumulative risks greater than the risk from a single source.” The EPA added that it was working both to better harness the science on cumulative risks and “to better understand risks for communities who are overburdened by numerous sources of multiple pollutants.”
Madison can’t help but notice that when her family travels, K’ryah’s asthma improves. “The first chance I get, I’m moving far away from Texas and never looking back,” she said. “I love being outside. I love seeing the stars. I don’t want to feel like someone is pumping gas onto our front porch.”
The locations of the hot spots identified by ProPublica are anything but random. Industrial giants tend to favor areas that confer strategic advantages: On the Gulf Coast, for instance, oil rigs abound, so it’s more convenient to build refineries along the shoreline. Corporations also favor places where land is cheap and regulations are few.
Under federal law, the EPA delegates the majority of its enforcement powers to state and local authorities, which means that the environmental protections afforded to Americans vary widely between states. Texas, which is home to some of the largest hot spots in the nation, has notoriously lax regulations.
Between 2008 and 2018, lawmakers cut funding for state pollution-control programs by 35% while boosting the state’s overall budget by 41%, according to a report by the Environmental Integrity Project, an advocacy group founded by former EPA staffers. A Texas Tribune story from 2017 found that during the prior year, the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality had levied fines in fewer than 1% of the cases in which polluters exceeded emission limits. Even when penalties are issued, many polluters see these fines as part of the cost of doing business, said Craig Johnston, a former lawyer at the EPA and a professor of environmental law at Lewis and Clark Law School.
Gary Rasp, a TCEQ spokesperson, told ProPublica that the agency “has taken actions to monitor, mitigate, and improve the air quality in fence line communities.” The agency runs dozens of stationary air toxics monitors across the state, he added, and “by continuously evaluating air monitoring data, which is more accurate than modeling, TCEQ can identify issues.” The agency also inspects industrial facilities and “has an active enforcement program, referring particularly egregious cases to the Texas Office of the Attorney General.”
That the people living inside these hot spots are disproportionately Black is not a coincidence. Our findings build on decades of evidence demonstrating that pollution is segregated: People of color are exposed to far greater levels of air pollution than whites — a pattern that persists across income levels. These disparities are rooted in racist real estate practices like redlining and the designation of low-income neighborhoods and communities of color as mixed residential-industrial zones. In cities like Houston, for example, all-white zoning boards targeted Black neighborhoods for the siting of noxious facilities, like landfills, incinerators and garbage dumps. Robert Bullard, a professor of urban planning and environmental policy at Texas Southern University, has called the practice “PIBBY” or “Place In Blacks’ Back Yard” — a spin on the acronym “NIMBY” (“Not In My Back Yard”).
📷 How We Created the Most Detailed Map Ever of Cancer-Causing Industrial Air Pollution
Many of the neighborhoods that border chemical plants are low-income and lack the same resources, access to health care and political capital that wealthier neighborhoods can bring to fights against intrusive commercial activities. In places like Baytown, working-class people depend on the very companies that sicken them to earn a living. Over the years, the shadow of industry can permanently impair not just a neighborhood’s health but also its economic prospects and property values, fueling a cycle of disinvestment. “Industries rely on having these sinks — these sacrifice zones — for polluting,” said Ana Baptista, an environmental policy professor at The New School. “That political calculus has kept in place a regulatory system that allows for the continued concentration of industry. We sacrifice these low-income, African American, Indigenous communities for the economic benefit of the region or state or country.”
Tejada, the EPA’s director of environmental justice, said that the Biden administration and the EPA are focused on confronting these disparities. “These places didn’t happen by accident. The disproportionality of the impacts that they face, the generations of disinvestment and lack of access are not coincidences. These places were created. And it is the responsibility of everyone, including the government — chiefly the government — to do something about it.”
The federal government has long had the information it would need to take on these hot spots. The EPA collects emissions data from more than 20,000 industrial facilities across the country and has even developed its own state-of-the-art tool — the Risk-Screening Environmental Indicators model — to estimate the impact of toxic emissions on human health. The model, known as RSEI, was designed to help regulators and lawmakers pinpoint where to target further air-monitoring efforts, data-quality inspections or, if necessary, enforcement actions. Researchers and journalists have used this model for various investigations over the years, including this one.
And yet the agency’s own use of its powerful modeling tool has been limited. There’s been a lack of funding for and a dearth of interest in RSEI’s more ambitious applications, according to several former and current EPA employees. Wayne Davis, the former EPA scientist, managed the RSEI program under the Trump administration. He said that some of his supervisors were hesitant about publishing information that would directly implicate a facility. “They always told us, ‘Don’t make a big deal of it, don’t market it, and hopefully you’ll continue to get funding next year.’ They didn’t want to make anything public that would raise questions about why the EPA hadn’t done anything to regulate that facility.”
Nicolaas Bouwes, a former senior analyst at the EPA and a chief architect of the RSEI model, recalled the occasional battle to get colleagues to accept the screening tool, let alone share its findings with the public. “There’s often been pushback from having this rich data sheet too readily available because it could make headlines,” he said. “What I find annoying is that the EPA has the same information at their disposal and they don’t use it. If ProPublica can do this, so can the EPA.”
In its statement, the EPA said that it plans to improve its approach for sharing air toxics data faster and more regularly with the public. “EPA has not published calculated cancer risks using RSEI modeled results,” it continued. “RSEI results are not designed as a substitute for more comprehensive, inclusive, or site specific risk assessments,” but as a potential starting point that should only be used “to identify situations of potential concern that may warrant further investigation.”
Indeed, our map works as a screening tool, not as a site-specific risk assessment. It cannot be used to tie individual cancer cases to emissions from specific industrial facilities, but it can be used to diagnose what the EPA calls “situations of potential concern.”
Our analysis arrives as America faces new threats to its air quality. The downstream effects of climate change, like warmer temperatures and massive wildfires, have created more smoke and smog. The Trump administration diluted, scuttled or reversed dozens of air pollution protections — actions estimated to lead to thousands of additional premature deaths. In 2018, then-EPA Administrator Scott Pruitt created a massive air toxics loophole when he rolled back a key provision of the Clean Air Act, known as “Once In, Always In,” allowing thousands of large polluters to relax their use of pollution-controlling equipment.
Biden has yet to close this loophole, but he has signaled plans to alleviate the disproportionate impacts borne by the people who live in these hot spots. Within his first few days in office, he established two White House councils to address environmental injustice. And in March, Congress confirmed his appointment of EPA administrator Michael Regan, who has directed the agency to strengthen its enforcement of violations “in communities overburdened by pollution.”
https://www.propublica.org/article/toxmap-poison-in-the-air
Over the years, Sullivan Ramirez herself has struggled with nerve degeneration and scleroderma, a rare condition that involves the tightening of the skin and connective tissues. While it can be difficult to link specific cases of disease to pollution exposure, the evidence in Mossville has accumulated: In a 1998 health survey conducted by the University of Texas, 84% of Mossville residents reported having headaches, dizziness, tremors and seizures. An EPA study from the same year found that the average level of dioxins in the blood of Mossville residents was dangerously high — triple that of the general U.S. population. Even small amounts of dioxin, one of the most poisonous chemicals released by facilities, can cause developmental problems, damage the immune system and lead to cancer. A 2007 report found that the types of dioxin compounds in the blood of Mossville residents matched those emitted by local industrial facilities.
In an emailed statement, Sasol noted that its property buyout stemmed from direct requests from Mossville residents and that the company offered owners more than the appraised value of their homes. “Sasol and its predecessor have produced or handled chemicals at our Lake Charles complex for more than 60 years. We understand the science and have controls in place to ensure our operations are safe, protective of the environment, compliant with regulations and sustainable over the long term,” wrote Sarah Hughes, a spokesperson for Sasol. “Sasol is proud of our engagement with our neighbors in Mossville and the positive impact it has had on many of its residents.”
📷 Can Air Pollution Cause Cancer? What You Need to Know About the Risks.
Sullivan Ramirez is wary of too much talk. She knows that the new administration has promised something more for communities like hers, but she doesn’t want to get her hopes up. The presentations from captains of industry, the listening sessions with earnest bureaucrats, the proposals from slick attorneys, the promises tossed off by politicians — over the years, she’s heard it all.
The people of Mossville are right to be skeptical, the EPA’s Tejada acknowledged. “I would be skeptical if I was from Mossville,” he added. “They should be skeptical until we actually show up and do the things that they’ve been asking us to do for a long time. But there’s now a level of commitment to actually tangling with these issues in a really serious, substantive way.”
After years of activism in Mossville, Sullivan Ramirez moved to Lake Charles, just a short drive away. But she worries the industrial sprawl will one day overtake her new home. To Sullivan Ramirez, Mossville is “the key” — a warning of what the future holds for America’s other hot spots if business continues as usual.
“This is the 21st century,” she said. “The act of polluting our lands and robbing our communities — when will enough be enough?”
​
please read this article in full here:
https://www.propublica.org/article/toxmap-poison-in-the-air

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Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. The Tent. Local Time: 0500 Hours.
Emma Booker
I fucked up.
Big time.
And I had no one else but myself to blame.
You know that feeling when you dive head-first into a project that you had zero doubts would somehow work itself out in the end?
The sudden surge of confidence that comes when you let the indomitable human spirit take the wheel?
Well that was me at 0300 hours when my eyes landed upon the hygiene module, and pictured the inevitable outcome of a steaming hot shower after an entire day of nonstop grinding.
I couldn’t help myself but to fall into the same trap as every other would-be DIY-er. I couldn’t stop the excitement, the sudden surge of energy, and the absolute hyperfixation that came with completing a project that promised nothing but endless positives, at the expense of some time and effort that would prove minimal in the grand scheme of things.
And just like every would-be DIY-er, I was this close to completing the task at hand, before finally reaching a roadblock that inevitably brought everything to a screeching halt.
FINAL STEP: REFER TO [UNDESIGNATED WATER SOURCE] FOR ATTACHMENT OF INTAKE PIPE [EIP23] TO EXTERNAL PUMPING MODULE [EPM-1].
That one, final instruction, decimated me.
Especially as I got to that final step at just shy of 0500 hours, when I finally had the entire damn module set up, only to realize that I had missed out on a vital pre-procedure checklist that I’d purposefully skipped because I’d assumed it would be a non-issue.
ENVIRONMENTAL PREREQUISITE: LOCATE, EVALUATE, AND SECURE A RELIABLE WATER SOURCE.
And that’s why I only had myself to blame for this fiasco.
Because I’d assumed that the availability of a water-source in the dorms would’ve been an open and shut case. It only made sense for me to make that assumption though, as I saw that Thacea had clearly used the dorm’s en-suite to shower just the night before.
It was because of this that I didn’t even bother checking the bathroom to begin with. I thought that whatever was in there could’ve easily fit the hyper-modular fittings of the source-intake pipe.
Things couldn’t have been further from the truth however, as what I saw within that bathroom made me question the very fabric of my own reality.
As within those four marble walls, was nothing.
Nothing, but a series of dull flat marble surfaces, and some strange wall-fittings that looked like something out of a 21st century ‘modern’ art exhibit.
There was nothing here that resembled a tap, or even hinted at the fact that there were even any pipes carrying running water behind those four bare walls.
The only other thing of note here was an unseen light source keeping the bathroom lit.
Aside from that, there was literally nothing else here.
This meant I had only one option available to me.
The most logical and straightforward option, of simply nudging the avinor princess awake just so I could ask where I could find a fucking tap.
Whilst it was the most straightforward thing to do, I just couldn’t get myself to do it.
I’d thought about going up those stairs to nudge the avian awake, to then apologize profusely for disturbing her sleep… but given everything Thacea had done for me thus far, and considering the fact that I was responsible for almost all of the headaches we were currently experiencing, it just felt wrong for me to disturb here at that hour.
So I was left with the inconvenient truth of my circumstances, and decided to just embrace the suck, toughing out the folly of my hubris…
At least, until morning came around.
At that point, I could rest easy in actually asking the princess for pointers on the enigmatic machinations of the bathroom.
Until then, I would sleep.
And hopefully, my shortsighted adventure would bear some fruit when morning rears its ugly head around.

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1000 Hours.
Emma Booker
Good news: Half of my hard work actually paid off.
Bad news: Only half of my hard work actually paid off.
Upon waking up three hours later, forcing my carcass up and back into the suit, I’d managed to flag down Thacea just as she was getting out of bed.
The princess’ reactions to my questions were nothing short of the politeness I’d expected from her.
Which managed to put me at ease as I was getting worried I was starting to get on her nerves with my constant flurry of questions.
The bathroom turned out to be yet another demonstration of the Nexus’ completely unhinged philosophies. As it relied entirely on a mana user’s manipulation of the room to operate. Apparently, whoever designed this place took the whole concept of a modular, personalized room, and just ran with it. Making it so that every aspect of the room relied solely on the mana user to work, as they had to shape, form, and structure the otherwise blank slate before use. This was supposedly done so that the room could be made to fit the precise criterion of a person’s liking. To me however, it just felt like another bizarre concept pulled straight out of the Nexus’ seemingly endless idea-pool of zany, overkill, and mana-addled solutions to problems that sort of existed.
Thankfully, the bathroom didn’t require constant intervention from a mana-user to operate, as certain elements could be permanently turned on.
This included the water mains, which I immediately hooked up the pipes to, as the mana-contaminated water was quickly siphoned into a series of filtration units, all with the express purpose of extracting and removing every ounce of mana present within the water.
This process took about two hours to do.
But by the end of it, I was rewarded for all my troubles by one of the best showers I’ve ever had.
All of the stress, even the constant ticking of the bomb which constantly gnawed at the back of my mind, seemed to fade away for a few short minutes as the warm water washed everything away.
But that about wrapped up the good news.
The bad news however, came in the form of the little MREDD experiment from the previous night.
As I opened the triple-airlocked compartment on my side of the tent, I was met with what could only be described as ‘food’ in name and aesthetics alone.
The soft, white, fluffy loaf of bread had literally become a baton. Whilst the pancakes were now more reminiscent of a mini-frisbee that cracked and crumbled the moment I laid my fingers on them.
My immeasurable disappointment grew the longer I stood there next to the MREDD, and the longer I stared at the small stack of dust that was once a perfectly cooked stack of pancakes.
Beyond this however, I could feel a bit of anxiety seeping in, as the results of the experiment did make me a bit anxious as to the long-term food security of this mission.
Then again, I should’ve expected this result.
It was the first calibration test after all.
“I should’ve expected this, shouldn’t I?” I spoke to no one in particular, but quickly garnered the attention of the EVI who remained within the power armor that currently stood imposingly just a few feet away from me.
“That is correct, Cadet Booker. As you are already aware, the MREDD is designed with multiple calibration protocols in-effect, each which correspond to the type and densities of the foodstuffs to be desaturated. In addition to this, the systems are designed to test the maximal extraction threshold against the subjective palatability gradient with the food safety variable as an integral aspect of these tests. Thus, the first-round extraction procedures dictate that the MREDD will attempt maximal extraction settings, in order to both stress-test the components and systems, as well as to garner data on the mana-extraction process at the maximal setting.”
I blinked rapidly upon hearing the EVI’s explanation being blasted from my suit’s speakers. It felt somewhat jarring turning around to face my armor talking to me. But then again, I should’ve expected it, as I’d yet to set up any other speaker systems within the tent for it to speak through.
“I know, EVI. They already ran everything by me during the briefings. Though I would be lying if I didn’t say I sort of hoped that putting the food under full blast for 7 hours would’ve somehow miraculously resulted in something edible.” I managed out with a sigh.
“Cadet Booker, it is logical to assume that since the extraction of mana from both food and water is indeed viable, that the only point of contention is now the palatability of the foodstuffs rendered through the MREDD.”
“Yeah, well…” I trailed off as I began tapping on the loaf of bread that sounded like styrofoam when I hit it against the armor. “I think you and I have different definitions of palatable.”
“I am confident that the mana-extraction process can be optimized, Cadet Booker. It is at this point that I must ask that you assess the palatability of the designated foodstuff marked CONSUMABLE GROUP A, ITEM 1, for the purposes of data-gathering and analysis.” The AI spoke in a no-nonsense fashion, as I turned around, giving it a look of utter incredulity.
“You want me to try to eat this?” I shot back, tapping on the styrofoam bread for added effect.
“I require data on the palatability of foodstuff A-1 [BREAD] as it is a subjective dataset relying entirely on the input of the human subject.” The AI continued.
I couldn’t help but to shudder at that last line, especially with how it was delivered.
Popular media back home was currently going through another AI-apocalypse phase, with a lot of movies, both immersive and traditional, diving deep into the uncomfortable topics of human-AI relations post AI-takeover.
Being stuck in a bare, white tent, with a monotone, somewhat disgruntled-sounding VI talking to me through a suit of armor several heads taller than me all the while suddenly referring to me as subject really wasn’t doing my movie-binging gremlin brain any favors.
I hesitated for a few seconds, tentatively staring at the bread, then the armor, then back to the bread again, before finally just going for it...
CRUNCH
It did not end well.
“Cadet Booker, I did not require that you actively consume a foodstuff you consider inedible or are uncomfortable eating. I merely needed a dataset for the purposes of this experiment, even if that data-set is a refusal to consume the foodstuff in question.”
I stared back at the VI with unamused eyes and a mouthful of hard-tack currently turning my mouth into the Greater Sahara.
“Damnghit Aeevi.” I managed out with a mouth full of bland, stale bread, before reaching for the water dispenser which thankfully still had some mana-free water inside of it.
“Shall I log A-1 down as unpalatable then, Cadet?” The AI spoke with a hint of disappointment in its voice.
Though I was probably just imagining the actual tone of its voice.
Projection was a heck of a thing after all.
“Yes. And make sure you clarify your intent next time.” I snapped back, as I finished up what limited bits of housekeeping I needed to for now. Which included punting the balled-up undersuit into the washer, getting the wash and dry cycle started, before grabbing a fresh undersuit from the cargo airlock and quickly putting it on.
“I guess the next test with the MREDD includes extracting mana at a slow, sustained rate?” I spoke as I began recalibrating the different electronic components within the undersuit.
“Correct, Cadet Booker. Provided of course, that the foodstuffs are of a similar type, and contain similar properties to GROUP A.”
“Acknowledged.” I responded promptly, shuddering a bit as the haptic feedback finished its calibration cycles. “Alright then, we got a lot of work ahead of us, so let’s get going. System status, SRR?” I asked as per protocol, steadying my hand on the suit’s ‘backpack’.
“Diagnostics running… pending… All systems nominal, Cadet Booker. Status: Ready for standard operations.”
“Operator acknowledges system status after pre-mission diagnostics.” I replied dryly, and with a few final breaths I pulled myself back into the armor. “Current objectives? Preferably the ones I listed before dozing off last night?” I continued, as my eyes quickly readjusted to the constant assault on the senses that was the HUD.
“Priority Objective: Locate and Secure Container 10. Current time remaining until activation of the Denial of Sensitive Assets to Unauthorized Parties Protocols… 36 hours, 34 minutes, and 47 seconds.”
“Alright then, let’s pay a visit to our dear old friend… hopefully she’s alive and lucid enough to get us to the bottom of this little predicament.”

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Thacea and Emma’s Bedroom. Local Time: 1020 Hours.
Emma Booker
Transitioning from the tent to the marble and cobblestone world of the Academy was always jarring. Opening those external protective flaps to reveal something that wasn’t more bare white paneling and drab gray composalite would probably be something I’d need to get used to.
I got into the swing of things quick enough, as I was met with the likes of Thacea who was busy reading on one of the many ornate seats that formed the mini-living room within our loft.
“Was the water to your liking, Emma?” Thacea asked with a clack of her beak.
“I managed to squeeze in a couple minutes worth of a shower, so that’s a win in my book!” I beamed out. “But with a constant stream of filtered water filling up my reservoirs now, I should be able to get something more substantial later tonight.”
The princess nodded slowly at that. “The lengths to which you need to go, just to attain what we take for granted on a daily basis, is quite remarkable Emma.”
“It is what it is, Thacea.” I shrugged in response. “The very air I breathe needs to be filtered. This whole world, or heck, even your worlds are actively hostile to human life. These measures are something that are cumbersome, and seriously draining to deal with, but it’s necessary. Besides, it’s not as if these measures are something new where I come from. My people have had a history of intrepid explorers, brave pioneers, and foolish thrillseekers who all surge forward into inhospitable domains just so they can crest the next wave, or see what’s over the next hill.” I paused for a moment, as I was tempted to strike a pose, but quickly decided against it. “I’m just furthering a legacy that’s already been established. Or at least, I hope I’m doing that. Heck if I know if I’m actually doing things right. Nine times out of ten, I feel like I’m just making the best of my situation.”
“I can’t say I can understand the appeal of this legacy of actively seeking hostile-domains.” Thacea responded with an equal mix of curiosity and genuine concern. “And I do not know what manner of civilization would result from such a culture, though I do harbor a morbid curiosity to inquire further… However, I can most certainly resonate with your latter statements, Emma. Half of the court politics I contend with simply amounts to making do with the hand you’ve been dealt, of making best of one’s situation, and doing whatever it is in your limited scope and power to maintain life, security, and perhaps some waning semblance of your own personal liberty. It’s a great game, where doubt comes naturally as a result of being a player and not the host.”
There was a small pause that followed Thacea’s response as one point in particular caught my attention more than any other.
It was unfortunate that it was so topical as well, given how if things had turned out any differently, this conversation would’ve moved right on into an hours-long exchange of life and culture.
Thacea mentioning the concept of a great game, immediately brought me back to the conversation with Ilunor the previous night.
“Thacea… would you mind if I consulted you on something?” I began, as the gears in my head began turning now at the first major issue of the day.
The princess seemed to catch on as she leaned forward in her seat intently, and nodded. “By all means.”
“Something happened last night at the workshop, and it wasn’t anything to do with the armorer… though, we can talk about that later.” I took a deep breath as I shelved that topic for another time. “Did you happen to pay any attention to Ilunor’s whereabouts after I left for the workshop?”
“Not particularly, no. Lord Rul-, erm, Ilunor had seemingly remained in his room until Thalmin and I retired to our respective rooms. After that, I simply have no recollection of anything beyond my own domicile.”
“Well, Ilunor followed me to the workshop.” I stated plainly, pausing for a moment to gauge Thacea’s reaction. Of which there really was none as she managed to keep that signature poker-face that was probably second nature to her by now.
“And I’m assuming since you managed to uncover this, that his meddling had failed in some way shape or form?” Thacea shot back coolly.
“Correct. However, here’s where things get complicated. I’ll save the bulk of the events for later, but long story short, that discount kobold decided to use some sort of a projection spell to spook me just as I was in the middle of the weapons inspection with the armorer, and the projection used wasn’t just something a random monster or anything… he purposefully chose to bring out a carbon-copy version of the null.”
Thacea’s face shifted at this, which given how difficult it was to phase her, probably meant her mind was going through the full implications of this revelation.
I pressed on as Thacea urged me to continue with a single nod. “Well, I shot it. And, no, nobody was hurt. Fast forward a chase sequence later, and the armorer eventually managed to corner and capture Ilunor. However, when we pressed him for answers about why he was there to begin with? Well… I think it’ll be better for you to see for yourself.”
It was with this that I brought out my data-pad, and began replaying the relevant scenes for Thacea to see.
Starting from the brief spats between Ilunor and the armorer, all the way to my confrontation with the diminutive lizard, Thacea’s gaze remained completely transfixed. She did flinch a bit when the footage finally went over my dealings with the lizard, and Ilunor’s sudden shift in persona as I pulled out the library card and began talking his language.
Yet despite being inundated with this sudden flood of information, with a completely unexpected tangent, she soon responded cooly and without much in the way of a delay. “This complicates matters.” She began slowly. “This entire situation calls for a complete reevaluation of the dynamics of this peer group, and how we need to approach Lord Rul-, Ilunor.” Thacea promptly corrected herself before continuing. “There’s a great number of layers to this unexpected development, each of which hints at a greater game being played here, and points at the fact that there are a great number of interested parties beyond just Ilunor.” The princess took a moment to let out an exasperated coo, her eyes finally moving away from the tablet and back to me. “You must understand as well as I, that Ilunor’s actions do not constitute a scheme of his own making, correct?”
“That I do.” I nodded simply. “The fact that he’s even bothering to do this in the first place is outside of his whole I’m above you persona. I’m not sure if the same rings true here, but where I come from, becoming a spook is not something that most people in high and mighty positions would ever stoop down to. Besides, I think we have a lead. I don’t think a student would actively defer a bit of punishment from a lower level administrator, in order to fast-track it to the highest authorities if they weren’t in cahoots with them.”
“This coincides with my observations of these developments as well, Emma.” Thacea responded with a resonant chirp. “To add to this, his knowledge of the null is most certainly not circumstantial, and considering he was absent from our adventures the previous day, his knowledge of this creature would hint to either the feeding of information via a higher benefactor, or a direct observation of our activities from afar. Either way, this does not bode well.”
“This leads me to what I wanted to consult you on, Thacea. If Ilunor’s out there waiting for us right now, would it be best if we confronted him outright in front of Thalmin or-”
“No.” Thacea interjected sharply, and with a certainty that was almost uncharacteristic of her. “Confronting Ilunor out in the open, in front of others not privy to you and the Vunerian’s current game, would be outright suicide to the dialogue you’ve managed to broker with him the previous night. You’ve managed to prove yourself as not just another pawn, but a player in the game, at least in Ilunor’s eyes. It would be wise to maintain that momentum, Emma. By continuing this line of dialogue with him in private, there is a higher likelihood the Vunerian will divulge more information as he speaks to you frankly, beyond what his current facade will allow. This is now a matter between you and the Vunerian, as Thalmin and I are not privy to these political transactions.”
I couldn’t help but to mimic the princess by gripping my forehead as well, letting out a sigh as the dread of complex court politics had begun seeping in faster than I expected. “That shouldn’t be too hard to do. I’ll just let that situation slide for now, making sure not to mention my dealings with Ilunor when he’s around, and focus instead on our other problems. It’s not like we have a shortage of other things to worry about after all.” I sighed sharply.
“That is an acceptable plan. ” Thacea responded promptly as she stood up and began straightening out her uniform. “Right then, shall we proceed?”

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 1025 Hours.
Emma Booker
As we exited the bedroom, we were once more met with a similar sight reminiscent of the previous day’s. As there, on the couch, were the bickering pair that had seemed to have carried over their arguments from the previous night.
Except this time, the context seemed to have thankfully shifted to something new.
“Every minute I waste in this room for the sake of that Earthrealmer is another minute that I grow increasingly more famished. It is unbecoming of a noble to sit in waiting for a commoner. In fact, it should be the other way around. Or perhaps this is yet another one of your Havenbrockian reforms that test the Nexus’ patience, Prince Thalmin?” I could hear Ilunor snapping at Thalmin just as we made our way into the living room proper.
Thalmin, amazingly, resisted responding in kind as he got up as soon as we made our way towards the pair.
“We were waiting for the both of you, but it should be fine. Should we miss the breakfast, there is always an a la carte menu we can-”
“I have met the criterion for your unlawful detainment, mercenary. Thus, I shall take my leave.” Ilunor promptly jumped off from the couch and began trotting his way over to the door, his little legs were clearly attempting to generate some sort of a forceful series of thumps as he did so, but only resulted in a light series of taps given his diminutive size.
“Hold on a minute there! That wasn’t our agreement! You agreed to-”
“I agreed to wait for the Earthrealmer and the tainted one. I have no other reason to be here. Now, I must resume my extracurriculars. You lot can do whatever it is you get up to. I will be having none of it.” Ilunor turned to face the Lupinor one final time, before slamming the front door shut, and skittering off.
This made things so much simpler as it meant we were in the clear for now.
“I’m sorry princess.” Thalmin turned to face Thacea. “I thought we might be able to squeeze something out of him yet, but the Vunerian continues to be as squirmy as a prairie rodent.”
“It’s quite alright, Thalmin.” Thacea began, as she turned towards me as if to confirm whether or not I wanted her to proceed on my behalf. To which I did. “There are a few matters we must address regarding Ilunor, which I suggest we do over a short breakfast, as we have even more pressing matters following this.”
After a reluctant pause, the lupinor prince nodded in agreement, leading to both of us sitting down-
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
-and a privacy screen being brought down soon after.
“So, shall we talk about this over a brunch platter?”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to the Healing Wing. Local Time: 1050 Hours.
Thalmin’s reactions were nothing short of what I’d expected.
There was absolute outrage, followed by an unrepentant series of growls, capped off with barks of seething anger at the same clips I’d played for Thacea earlier.
The mercenary prince was perhaps even more uncomfortable than I was at my entry into this game, as it was clear Thalmin despite his noble heritage, wasn’t really one to dabble in it at all.
“I’m telling you Emma, this is a dangerous path forward. Are you certain you are making the wisest choice?” He spoke once again, continuing the conversation from earlier, underneath yet another privacy screen Thacea was maintaining as we approached the medical wing.
“I don’t like it either, Thalmin. There’s nothing more I hate than playing politics, but it’s unfortunately a pill I have to swallow if we’re going to get to the bottom of the issues surrounding Ilunor. I mean, I overheard you guys arguing late into the night. I really don’t think confronting him normally is going to get us anywhere.”
The lupinor let out a sigh of defeat at that, as he lowered his head in my general direction. “I can’t fault that logic, Emma. Perhaps… speaking his language, as you put it, would bring us some resolution to this frankly irritating problem. However…” The Lupinor’s voice lowered, just as we were about to reach the doors to the healing wing proper. “I know how these games work, Emma. It’s dangerous, so make sure you tread lightly, and just know that I, as part of your peer group, am here to support you should the need arise.” The prince reassured me with a smirk, as we pushed past the double doors and into the medical wing proper.
Or at least, that’s what I thought, as we entered what looked to be a massive circular room with multiple branching hallways connected to it like spokes on a wheel. In typical Academy-fashion however, the room really wasn’t at all modest with its size. As it went up a solid twenty or so stories, with high pillars piercing straight up into a marble-lined rotunda with moving murals painted on it like some grand cathedral. Between these pillars were little outcroppings where several gargoyles were perched.
Gargoyles which I could swear were looking straight at us.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 425% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
My gut was proven right again, as it only took a few seconds after our entry for these stony beasts to come to life, with multiple bursts of mana-radiation accompanying what could only be described as the sounds of cracking concrete.
Soon enough, several large gargoyles made harsh, heavy landings right in front of us. The two closest to us held out their arms, before zapping two stony spears into existence, crossing them in a clear display to stop us from going any further.
“Halt!” A voice commanded from above, as a shadowy figure landed right in front of the two gargoyles blocking our path. The figure’s face was hidden underneath an unnatural shadow casted by his hood, revealing just two trapezoidal lights where his eyes should be. “The healing wing is currently off-limits to visitors. So state your ailment, or leave where you came from.” The voice boomed, echoing throughout the large open space, as all eyes within the room now landed squarely on us.
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(Author’s Note: Hey guys! We see more glimpses of Emma's quality of life getting set up here, and we're now making our way over to the apprentice! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 33 of this story is already out on there!)]

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Today's Reading, via Project Gutenberg:
Borde could not enlighten him on that point, and I suggested that he should make application to the publisher of his Prayer-Book and get his money back. There is nobody. I said, like him. He is more wonderful than anything in literature. I prefer him to Sancho who was untroubled with a conscience and never thought of running to the Bishop of Toledo. All the same he is not without the shrewdness of his ancestors, and got the better of Archbishop Walsh, and for the last five years Vincent O'Brien has been beating time, and will beat it till the end of his life; and he will be succeeded by others, for Edward has, by deed, saved the Italian contrapuntalists till time everlasting from competition with modern composers. He certainly has gotten the better of Walsh. And I thought of a picture-gallery in Dublin with nothing in it but Botticelli and his school, and myself declaring that all painting that had been done since had no interest for me.... A smile began to spread over my face, for the story that was coming into my mind seemed oh! so humorous, so like Ireland, so like Edward, that I began to tell myself again the delightful story of the unrefined ears that, weary of erudite music, had left the cathedral and sought instinctively modern tunes and women's voices, and as these were to be found in Westland Row the church was soon overflowing with a happy congregation. But in a little while the collections grew scantier. This time it couldn't be Palestrina, and all kinds of reasons were adduced. At last the truth could no longer be denied—the professional Catholics of Merrion Square had been driven out of Westland Row by the searching smells of dirty clothes, and had gone away to the University Church in Stephen's Green. So if it weren't Palestrina directly it was Palestrina indirectly, and the brows of the priests began to knit when Edward Martyn's name was mentioned. Them fal-de-dals is well enough on the Continent, in Paris, where there is no faith, was the opinion of an important ecclesiastic. But we don't want them here, murmured a second ecclesiastic. All this counterpoint may make a very pretty background for Mr Martyn's prayers, but what about the poor people's? Good composer or bad composer, there is no congregation in him, said a third. There's too much congregation, put in the first, but not the kind we want! The second ecclesiastic took snuff, and the group were of opinion that steps should be taken to persuade dear Edward to make good their losses. The priests in Marlborough Street sympathised with the priests of Westland Row, and told them that they were so heavily out of pocket that Mr Martyn had agreed to do something for them. It seemed to the Westland Row priests that if Mr Martyn were making good the losses of the priests of the pro-Cathedral, he should make good their losses. It was natural that they should think so, and to acquit himself of all responsibility Edward no doubt consulted the best theologians on the subject, and I think that they assured him that he is not responsible for indirect losses. If he were, his whole fortune would not suffice. He was, of course, very sorry if a sudden influx of poor people had caused a falling-off in the collections of Westland Row, for he knew that the priests needed the money very much to pay for the new decorations, and to help them he wrote an article in the Independent praising the new blue ceiling, which seemed, so he wrote, a worthy canopy for the soaring strains of Palestrina.
Unfortunately rubbing salt into the wound, I said. A story that will amuse Dujardin and it will be great fun telling him in the shady garden at Fontainebleau how Edward, anxious to do something for his church, had succeeded in emptying two. All the way down the alleys he will wonder how Edward could have ever looked upon Palestrina's masses as religious music. The only music he will say, in which religious emotion transpires is plain-chant. Huysmans says that the Tantum Ergo or the Dies Irae, one or the other, reminds him of a soul being dragged out of purgatory, and it is possible that it does; but a plain-chant tune arranged in eight-part counterpoint cannot remind one of anything very terrible. Dujardin knows that Palestrina was a priest, and he will say: That fact deceived your friend, just as the fact of finding the Adeste Fideles among the plain-chant tunes deceived him. For of course I shall tell Dujardin that story too. It is too good to be missed. He is wonderful, Dujardin! I shall cry out in one of the sinuous alleys. There never was anybody like him! And I will tell him more soul-revealing anecdotes. I will say: Dujardin, listen. One evening he contended that the great duet at the end of Siegfried reminded him of mass by Palestrina. Dujardin will laugh, and, excited by his laughter, I will try to explain to him that what Edward sees is that Palestrina took a plain chant tune and gave fragments of it to the different voices, and in his mind these become confused with the motives of The Ring. You see, Dujardin, the essential always escapes him—the intention of the writer is hidden from him. I am beginning to understand your friend. He has, let us suppose, a musical ear that allows him to take pleasure in the music; but a musical ear will not help him to follow Wagner's idea—how, in a transport of sexual emotion, a young man and a young woman on a mountain-side awaken to the beauty of the life of the world. Dujardin's appreciations will provoke me, and I will say: Dujardin, you shouldn't be so appreciative. If I were telling you of a play I had written, it would be delightful to watch my idea dawning upon your consciousness; but I am telling you of a real man, and one that I shall never to able to get into literature. He will answer: We invent nothing; we can but perceive. And then, exhilarated, carried beyond myself, I will say: Dujardin, I will tell you something still more wonderful than the last gaffe. II gaffe dans les Quat'z Arts. He admires Ibsen, but you'd never guess the reason why—because he is very like Racine; both of them, he says, are classical writers. And do you know how he arrived at that point? Because nobody is killed on the stage in Racine or in Ibsen. He does not see that the intention of Racine is to represent men and women out of time and out of space, unconditioned by environment, and that the very first principle of Ibsen's art is the relation of his characters to their environment. In many passages he merely dramatises Darwin. There never was anybody so interesting as dear Edward, and there never will be anybody like him in literature ... I will explain why presently, but I must first tell you another anecdote. I went to see him one night, and he told me that the theme of the play he was writing was a man who had married a woman because he had lost faith in himself; the man did not know, however, that the woman had married him for the same reason, and the two of them were thinking—I have forgotten what they were thinking, but I remember Edward saying: I should like to suggest hopelessness. I urged many phrases, but he said: It isn't a phrase I want, but an actual thing. I was thinking of a broken anchor—that surely is a symbol of hopelessness. Yes, I said, no doubt, but how are you going to get a broken anchor into a drawing-room? I don't write about drawing-rooms. Well, living-rooms. It isn't likely that they would buy a broken anchor and put it up by the coal-scuttle.
There's that against it, he answered. If you could suggest anything better—What do you think of a library in which there is nothing but unacted plays? The characters could say, when there was nothing for them to do on the stage, that they were going to the library to read, and the library would have the advantage of reminding everybody of the garret in the Wild Duck. A very cruel answer, my friend, Dujardin will say, and I will tell him that I can't help seeing in Edward something beyond Shakespeare or Balzac. Now, tell me, which of these anecdotes I have told you is the most humorous? He will not answer my question, but a certain thoughtfulness will begin to settle in his face, and he will say: Everything with him is accidental, and when his memory fails him he falls into another mistake, and he amuses you because it is impossible for you to anticipate his next mistake. You know there is going to be one; there must be one, for he sees things separately rather than relatively. I am beginning to understand your friend.
You are, you are; you are doing splendidly. But you haven't told me, Dujardin, which anecdote you prefer. Stay, there is another one. Perhaps this one will help you to a still better understanding. When he brought The Heather Field and Yeats's play The Countess Cathleen to Dublin for performance, a great trouble of conscience awakened suddenly in him, and a few days before the performance he went to a theologian to ask him if The Countess Cathleen were a heretical work, and, if it were would Almighty God hold him responsible for the performance? But he couldn't withdraw Yeats's play without withdrawing his own, and it appears that he breathed a sigh of relief when a common friend referred the whole matter to two other theologians, and as these gave their consent Edward allowed the plays to go on; but Cardinal Logue intervened, and wrote a letter to the papers to say that the play seemed to him unfit for Catholic ears, and Edward would have withdrawn the plays if the Cardinal hadn't admitted in his letter that he had judged the play by certain extracts only.
He wishes to act rightly, but has little faith in himself; and what makes him so amusing is that he needs advice in aesthetics as well as in morals. We are, I said, Dujardin, at the roots of conscience. And I began to ponder the question what would happen to Edward if we lived in a world in which aesthetics ruled: I should be where Bishop Healy is, and he would be a thin, small voice crying in the wilderness—an amusing subject of meditation, from which I awoke suddenly.
I wonder how Dujardin is getting on with his Biblical studies? Last year he was calling into question the authorship of the Romans—a most eccentric view; and, remembering how weakly I had answered him, I took the Bible from the table and began to read the Epistle with a view to furnishing myself with arguments wherewith to confute him. My Bible opened at the ninth chapter, and I said: Why, here is the authority for the Countess Cathleen's sacrifice which Edward's theologian deemed untheological. It will be great fun to poke Edward up with St Paul, and on my way to Lincoln Place I thought how I might lead the conversation to The Countess Cathleen.
📷
A few minutes afterwards a light appeared on the staircase and the door slowly opened.
Come in, Siegfried, though you were off the key.
Well, my dear friend, it is a difficult matter to whistle above two trams passing simultaneously and six people jabbering round a public-house, to say nothing of a jarvey or two, and you perhaps dozing in your armchair, as your habit often is. You won't open to anything else except a motive from The Ring; and I stumbled up the stairs in front of Edward, who followed with a candle.
Wait a moment; let me go first and I'll turn up the gas.
You aren't sitting in the dark, are you?
No, but I read better by candle-light, and he blew out the candles in the tin candelabrum that he had made for himself. He is original even in his candelabrum; no one before him had ever thought of a caridelabrum in tin, and I fell to admiring his appearance more carefully than perhaps I had ever done before, so monumental did he seem lying on the little sofa sheltered from daughts by a screen, a shawl about his shoulders. His churchwarden was drawing famously, and I noticed his great square hands with strong fingers and square nails pared closely away, and as heretofore I admired the curve of the great belly, the thickness of the thighs, the length and breadth and the width of his foot hanging over the edge of the sofa, the apoplectic neck falling into great rolls of flesh, the humid eyes, the skull covered with short stubbly hair. I looked round the rooms and they seemed part of himself: the old green wallpaper on which he pins reproductions of the Italian masters. And I longed to peep once more into the bare bedroom into which he goes to fetch bottles of Apollinaris. Always original! Is there another man in this world whose income is two thousand a year, and who sleeps in a bare bedroom, without dressing-room, or bathroom, or servant in the house to brush his clothes, and who has to go to the baker's for his breakfast?
We had been talking for some time of the Gaelic League, and from Hyde it was easy to pass to Yeats and his plays.
His best play is The Countess Cathleen.
The Countess Cathleen is only a sketch.
But what I never could understand, Edward, was why you and the Cardinal could have had any doubts as to the orthodoxy of The Countess Cathleen.
What, a woman that sells her own soul in order to save the souls of others!
I suppose your theologian objected—
Of course he objected.
He cannot have read St Paul.
What do you mean?
He can't have read St Paul, or else he is prepared to throw over St Paul.
Mon ami Moore, mon ami Moore.
The supernatural idealism of a man who would sell his soul to save the souls of others fills me with awe.
But it wasn't a man; it was the Countess Cathleen, and women are never idealists.
Not the saints?
His face grew solemn at once.
If you give me the Epistles I will read the passage to you. And it was great fun to go to the bookshelves and read: I say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost, that I have great heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart. For I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh.
Edward's face grew more and more solemn, and I wondered of what he was thinking.
Paul is a very difficult and a very obscure writer, and I think the Church is quite right not to encourage the reading of the Epistles, especially without comments.
Then you do think there is something in the passage I have read?
After looking down his dignified nose for a long time, he said:
Of course, the Church has an explanation. All the same, it's very odd that St Paul should have said such a thing—very odd.
There is no doubt that I owe a great deal of my happiness to Edward; all my life long he has been exquisite entertainment. And I fell to thinking that Nature was very cruel to have led me, like Moses, within sight of the Promised Land. A story would be necessary to bring Edward into literature, and it would be impossible to devise an action of which he should be a part. The sex of a woman is odious to him, and a man with two thousand a year does not rob nor steal, and he is so uninterested in his fellow-men that he has never an ill word to say about anybody. John Eglinton is a little thing; AE is a soul that few will understand; but Edward is universal—more universal than Yeats, than myself, than any of us, but for lack of a story I shall not be able to give him the immortality in literature which he seeks in sacraments. Shakespeare always took his stories from some other people. Turgenev's portrait of him would be thin, poor, and evasive, and Balzac would give us the portrait of a mere fool. And Edward is not a fool. As I understand him he is a temperament without a rudder; all he has to rely upon is his memory, which isn't a very good one, and so he tumbles from one mistake into another. My God! it is a terrible thing to happen to one, to understand a man better than he understands himself, and to be powerless to help him. If I had been able to undo his faith I should have raised him to the level of Sir Horace Plunkett, but he resisted me; and perhaps he did well, for he came into the world seeing things separately rather than relatively, and had to be a Catholic. He is a born Catholic, and I remembered one of his confessions—a partial confession, but a confession: If you had been brought up as strictly as I have been—I don't think he ever finished the sentence; he often leaves sentences unfinished, as if he fears to think things out. The end of the sentence should run: You would not dare to think independently. He thinks that his severe bringing-up has robbed him of something. But the prisoner ends by liking his prison-house, and on another occasion he said: If it hadn't been for the Church, I don't know what would have happened to me.
My thoughts stopped, and when I awoke I was thinking of Hughes. Perhaps the link between Hughes and Edward was Loughrea Cathedral. He had shown me a photograph of some saints modelled by Hughes. Hughes is away in Paris, I said, modelling saints for Loughrea Cathedral. The last time I saw him was at Walter Osborne's funeral, and Walter's death set me thinking of the woman I had lost, and little by little all she had told me about herself floated up in my mind like something that I had read. I had never seen her father nor the Putney villa in which she had been brought up, but she had made me familiar with both through her pleasant mode of conversation, which was never to describe anything, but just to talk about things, dropping phrases here and there, and the phrases she dropped were so well chosen that the comfort of the villa, its pompous meals and numerous servants, its gardens and greenhouses, with stables and coach-house just behind, are as well known to me as the house that I am living in, better known in a way, for I see it through the eyes of the imagination ... clearer eyes than the physical eyes.
It does not seem to me that any one was ever more conscious of whence she had come and of what she had been; she seemed to be able to see herself as a child again, and to describe her childhood with her brother (they were nearly the same age) in the villa and in the villa's garden. I seemed to see them always as two rather staid children who were being constantly dressed by diligent nurses and taken out for long drives in the family carriage. They did not like these drives and used to hide in the garden; but their governess was sent to fetch them, and they were brought back. Her father did not like to have the horses kept waiting, and one day as Stella stood with him in the passage, she saw her mother come out of her bedroom beautifully dressed. Her father whispered something in his wife's ear, and he followed her into her bedroom. Stella remembered how the door closed behind them. In my telling, the incident seems to lose some of its point, but in Stella's relation it seemed to put her father and his wife before me and so clearly that I could not help asking her what answer her father would make were she to tell him that she had a lover. A smile hovered in her grave face. He would look embarrassed, she said, and wonder why I should have told him such a thing, and then I think he would go to the greenhouse, and when he returned he would talk to me about something quite different. I don't think that Stella ever told me about the people that came to their house, but people must have come to it, and as an example of how a few words can convey an environment I will quote her: I always wanted to talk about Rossetti, she said, and these seven words seem to me to tell better than any description the life of a girl living with a formal father in a Putney villa, longing for something, not knowing exactly what, and anxious to get away from home.... I think she told me she was eighteen or nineteen and had started painting before she met Florence at the house of one of her father's friends; a somewhat sore point this meeting was, for Florence was looked upon by Stella's father as something of a Bohemian. She was a painter, and knew all the Art classes and the fees that had to be paid, and led Stella into the world of studios and models and girl friends. She knew how to find studios and could plan out a journey abroad. Stella's imagination was captured, and even if her father had tried to offer opposition to her leaving home he could not have prevented her, for she was an heiress (her mother was dead and had left her a considerable income); but he did not try, and the two girls set up house together in Chelsea; they travelled in Italy and Spain; they had a cottage in the country; they painted pictures and exhibited their pictures in the same exhibitions; they gave dances in their studios and were attracted by this young man and the other; but Stella did not give herself to any one, because, as she admitted to me, she was afraid that a lover would interrupt the devotion which she intended to give to Art. But life is forever casting itself into new shapes and forms, and no sooner had she begun to express herself in Art than she met me. I was about to go to Ireland to preach a new gospel, and must have seemed a very impulsive and fantastic person to her, but were not impulsiveness and fantasy just the qualities that would appeal to her? And were not gravity and good sense the qualities that would appeal to me, determined as I was then to indulge myself in a little madness?
I could not have chosen a saner companion than Stella; my instinct had led me to her; but because one man's instinct is a little more clear than another's, it does not follow that he has called reason to his aid. It must be remembered always that the art of painting is as inveterate in me as the art of writing, and that I am never altogether myself when far away from the smell of oil paint. Stella could talk to one about painting, and all through that wonderful summer described in Salve our talk flowed on as delightfully as a breeze in Maytime, and as irresponsible, flashing thoughts going by and avowals perfumed with memories. Only in her garden did conversation fail us, for in her garden Stella could think only of her flowers, and it seemed an indiscretion to follow her as she went through the twilight gathering dead blooms or freeing plants from noxious insects. But she would have had me follow her, and I think was always a little grieved that I wasn't as interested in her garden as I was in her painting; and my absent-mindedness when I followed her often vexed her and my mistakes distressed her.
You are interested, she said, only in what I say about flowers and not in the flowers themselves. You like to hear me tell about Miss —— whose business in life is to grow carnations, because you already see her, dimly, perhaps, but still you see her in a story. Forget her and look at this Miss Shifner!
Yes, it is beautiful, but we can only admire the flowers that we notice when we are children, I answered. Dahlias, china roses, red and yellow tulips, tawny wallflowers, purple pansies, are never long out of my thoughts, and all the wonderful varieties of the iris, the beautiful blue satin and the cream, some shining like porcelain, even the common iris that grows about the moat.
But there were carnations in your mother's garden?
Yes, and I remember seeing them being tied with bass. But what did you say yesterday about carnations? That they were the—
She laughed and would not tell me, and when the twilight stooped over the high trees and the bats flitted and the garden was silent except when a fish leaped, I begged her to come away to the wild growths that I loved better than the flowers.
But the mallow and willow-weed are the only two that you recognise. How many times have I told you the difference between self-heal and tufted vetch?
I like cow parsley and wild hyacinths and—
You have forgotten the name. As well speak of a woman that you loved but whose name you had forgotten.
Well, if I have, I love trees better than you do, Stella. You pass under a fir unstirred by the mystery of its branches, and I wonder at you, for I am a tree worshipper, even as my ancestors, and am moved as they were by the dizzy height of a great silver fir. You like to paint trees, and I should like to paint flowers if I could paint; there we are set forth, you and I.
I have told in Salve that in Rathfarnham she found many motives for painting; the shape of the land and the spire above the straggling village appealed to me, but she was not altogether herself in these pictures. She would have liked the village away, for man and his dwellings did not form part of her conception of a landscape; large trees and a flight of clouds above the trees were her selection, and the almost unconscious life of kine wandering or sheep seeking the shelter of a tree.
Stella was a good walker, and we followed the long road leading from Rathfarnham up the hills, stopping to admire the long plain which we could see through the comely trees shooting out of the shelving hillside.
If I have beguiled you into a country where there are no artists and few men of letters, you can't say that I have not shown you comely trees. And now if you can walk two miles farther up this steep road I will show you a lovely prospect.
And I enjoyed her grave admiration of the old Queen Anne dwelling-house, its rough masonry, the yew hedges, the path along the hillside leading to the Druid altar and the coast-line sweeping in beautiful curves, but she did not like to hear me say that the drawing of the shore reminded her of Corot.
It is a sad affectation, she said, to speak of Nature reminding one of pictures.
Well, the outlines of Howth are beautiful, I answered, and the haze is incomparable. I should like to have spoken about a piece of sculpture, but for your sake, Stella, I refrain.
She was interested in things rather than ideas, and I remember her saying to me that things interest us only because we know that they are always slipping from us. A strange thing for a woman to say to her lover. She noticed all the changes of the seasons and loved them, and taught me to love them. She brought a lamb back from Rathfarnham, a poor forlorn thing that had run bleating so pitifully across the windy field that she had asked the shepherd where the ewe was, and he had answered that she had been killed overnight by a golf-ball. The lamb will be dead before morning, he added. And it was that March that the donkey produced a foal, a poor ragged thing that did not look as if it ever could be larger than a goat, but the donkey loved her foal.
Do you know the names of those two birds flying up and down the river?
They look to me like two large wrens with white waistcoats.
They are water-ouzels, she said.
The birds flew with rapid strokes of the wings, like kingfishers, alighting constantly on the river, on large mossy stones, and though we saw them plunge into the water, it was not to swim, but to run along the bottom in search of worms.
But do worms live under water?
The rooks were building, and a little while after a great scuffling was heard in one of the chimneys and a young jackdaw came down and soon became tamer than any bird I had ever seen, tamer than a parrot, and at the end of May the corncrake called from the meadow that summer had come again, and the kine wandered in deeper and deeper and deeper herbage. The days seemed never to end, and looking through the branches of the chestnut in which the fruit had not begun to show, we caught sight of a strange spectacle. Stella said, A lunar rainbow, and I wondered, never having heard of or seen such a thing before.
I shall never forget that rainbow, Stella, and am glad that we saw it together.
In every love story lovers reprove each other for lack of affection, and Stella had often sent me angry letters which caused me many heart-burnings and brought me out to her; in the garden there were reconciliations, we picked up the thread again, and the summer had passed before the reason of these quarrels became clear to me. One September evening Stella said she would accompany me to the gate, and we had not gone very far before I began to notice that she was quarrelling with me. She spoke of the loneliness of the Moat House, and I had answered that she had not been alone two evenings that week. She admitted my devotion. And if you admit that there has been no neglect—
She would not tell me, but there was something she was not satisfied with, and before we reached the end of the avenue she said, I don't think I can tell you. But on being pressed she said:
Well, you don't make love to me often enough.
And full of apologies I answered, Let me go back.
No, I can't have you back now, not after having spoken like that.
But she yielded to my invitation, and we returned to the house, and next morning I went back to Dublin a little dazed, a little shaken.
A few days after she went away to Italy to spend the winter and wrote me long letters, interesting me in herself, in the villagers, in the walks and the things that she saw in her walks, setting me sighing that she was away from me, or that I was not with her. And going to the window I would stand for a long time watching the hawthorns in their bleak wintry discontent, thinking how the sunlight fell into the Italian gardens, and caught the corner of the ruin she was sketching; and I let my fancy stray for a time unchecked. It would be wonderful to be in Italy with her, but—
I turned from the window suspicious, for there was a feeling at the back of my mind that with her return an anxiety would come into my life that I would willingly be without. She had told me she had refrained from a lover because she wished to keep all herself for her painting, and now she had taken to herself a lover. She was twenty years younger than I was, and at forty-six or thereabouts one begins to feel that one's time for love is over; one is consultant rather than practitioner. But it was impossible to dismiss the subject with a jest, and I found myself face to face with the question—If these twenty years were removed, would things be different? It seemed to me that the difficulty that had arisen would have been the same earlier in my life as it was now, and returning to the window I watched the hawthorns blowing under the cold grey Dublin sky.
The problem is set, I said, for the married, and every couple has to solve it in one way or another, but they have to solve it; they have to come to terms with love, especially the man, for whom it is a question of life and death. But how do they come to terms? And I thought of the different married people I knew. Which would be most likely to advise me—the man or the woman? It would be no use to seek advice; every case is different, I said. If anybody were to advise me it would be the man, for the problem is not so difficult for a woman. She can escape from love more easily than her lover or her husband; she can plead, and her many pleadings were considered, one by one, and how in married life the solution that seems to lovers so difficult is solved by marriage itself, by propinquity. But not always, not always. The question is one of extraordinary interest and importance; more marriages come to shipwreck, I am convinced, on this very question than upon any other. In the divorce cases published we read of incompatibility of temper and lack of mutual tastes, mere euphemisms that deceive nobody. The image of a shipwreck rose up in me naturally. She will return, and like a ship our love for each other will be beaten on these rocks and broken. We shall not be able to get out to sea. She will return, and when she returns her temperament will have to be adjusted to mine, else she will lose me altogether, for men have died of love, though Shakespeare says they haven't. Manet and Daudet—both died of love; and the somewhat absurd spectacle of a lover waiting for his mistress to return, and yet dreading her returning, was constantly before me.
It often seemed to me that it was my own weakness that created our embarrassment. A stronger man would have been able to find a way out, but I am not one that can shape and mould another according to my desire; and when she returned from Italy I found myself more helpless than ever, and I remember, and with shame, how, to avoid being alone with her, I would run down the entire length of a train, avoiding the empty carriages, crying Not here, not here! at last opening the door of one occupied by three or four people, who all looked as if they were bound for a long journey. I remember, too, how about this time I came with friends to see Stella, whether by accident or design, frankly I know not; I only know that I brought many friends to see her, thinking they would interest her.
If you don't care to come to see me without a chaperon, I would rather you didn't come at all, she said, humiliating me very deeply.
It seemed to me, I answered, blushing, that you would like to see ——, and I mentioned the name of the man who had accompanied me.
If I am cross sometimes it is because I don't see enough of you.
It seems to me that it was then that the resolve hardened in my heart to become her friend ... if she would allow me to become her friend. But in what words should I frame my request and my apology? All the time our life was becoming less amiable, until one evening I nipped the quarrel that was beginning, stopping suddenly at the end of the avenue.
It is better that we should understand each other. The plain truth is that I must cease to be your lover unless my life is to be sacrificed.
Cease to be my lover!
That is impossible, but a change comes into every love story.
The explanation stuttered on. I remember her saying: I don't wish you to sacrifice your life. I have forgotten the end of her sentence. She drew her hand suddenly across her eyes. I will conquer this obsession.
A man would have whined and cried and besought and worried his mistress out of her wits. Women behave better than we; only once did her feelings overcome her. She spoke to me of the deception that life is. Again we were standing by the gate at the end of the chestnut avenue, and I remembered her telling me how a few years ago life had seemed to hold out its hands to her; her painting and her youth created her enjoyment.
But now life seems to have shrivelled up, she said; only a little dust is left.
Nothing is changed, so far as you and I are concerned. We see each other just the same.
I am no more to you than any other woman.
She went away again to Italy to paint and returned to Ireland, and one day she came to see me, and remained talking for an hour. I have no memory of what we said to each other, but a very clear memory of our walk through Dublin over Carlisle Bridge and along the quays. I had accompanied her as far as the Phoenix Park gates, and at the corner of the Conyngham Road, just as I was bidding her goodbye, she said:
I want to ask your advice on a matter of importance to me.
And to me, for what is important to you is equally important to me.
I am thinking, she said, of being married.
At the news it seems to me that I was unduly elated and tried to assume the interest that a friend should.

This one is admittedly an older write up that I never posted here, however I’ve worked on it so much that it's basically a different bit of text all together. I really had fun working on it. I will always stress that my words are never law! These are just my ideas, feel free to disagree with me.
In my opinion I see protection magic as a very fundamental building block to anyone trying to get into practice. This is for a few different reasons: A) its one of the easiest forms of energy manipulation. B) it is extremely difficult to harm yourself with. C) it quite literally uses basic shapes, colors, and symbols which can then be further developed into more complex workings. E) its a great first step into magic theory as a whole, in fact, I’d count it as just one step above blowing out a candle to make a wish or writing something in a journal to manifest.
It can also be one of the first steps to learning discernment. Protection magic as a starting point is just you molding your energy against a background of other collective unknown energy. Having such a simple black and white difference of “my energy” and “not my energy” is the first lesson of differentiating between subtle forms of matter(technically mental forms of matter). Simple “my energy” and “not my energy” are the bones of learning how to sense spirits, learning how to communicate spirits, how to tell spirits apart from one another, how to tell the difference between you and a spirit, and much much more.
And obviously the biggest reason for why its so great is that its- well protective. You are able to defend yourself, this builds up your confidence as a starting magician. Confidence and education are the best tools against fear.
Its funny because learning magic is like sending yourself back to kindergarten. You have to learn basic shapes, you have to learn simple visualization, you have to learn basic black and white before filling out the vast amount of complexities that exist within the occult/spiritual world. Its baby steps, and those steps are critical to someone's development as a magician. Especially if someone seeks to have the occult be a large part of their life. The occult is a marathon not a sprint. When starting out you have to treat things like learning a very new language, start simple.
While the following breakdown of protection magic is old I will vastly expand on it and break things down much more. Please remember that I am no master, I am no teacher, I am no King, I am just a Magician. My words are never law! This is just one Magician sharing their thoughts and opinions with other Magicians. That is it. Without further ado:
I am someone who stresses protection but not someone who jumps at every shadow or cries "i've been cursed" at every misfortune. I like to be as well informed as possible while being as practical as possible. Protection serves to not only defend yourself against possible threats but to ground yourself from personal thoughtforms.
With protection magic you have to understand the general concept you are working with. Protection is something primal. being kept safe, healthy, and secured away from things that wish to harm you is core to most animals. Humans are born with an innate fear of falling. we seek safety instinctually. We find the right means to protect ourselves with not matter if its physical, emotional, mental, and of course spiritual.
I am aware that some claim that protection is not needed however I would firmly disagree. Since the start of folklore and mythology there have been threats that humans wove tales about. These small rhymes, rules of thumb, and magical cures for angered spirits have become a staple in culture and collective understanding. So even if you are an atheist( or someone who doesn’t see the use or logic of protection magic) I find it interesting to at least go over the idea of spiritual protection and understand the reasons behind it.
First, you have to define what you are protecting, what you're protecting from, and how you are protecting it. You wouldn't wear deodorant to protect yourself from viruses. You don't wash your hands to protect yourself from getting robbed. The fact of the matter is that protection needs to be applied correctly against the correct threat. This is true for most magic as well.
The “what you are protecting” is simple enough. You can protect just about anything and everything but boiling it down to generals it will normally be:
1) Yourself
2) Your space
3) Your property
Things can of course be made more complicated! You can add protections on your finances. You can add protections to your job. You can ensure that your mind is protected from being swayed or influenced. You can secure your housing or living situation with protections. You can even add protections to your pets.
The “what” In protection magic is very easy to pick and is probably the easiest of steps in regards to this type of energy work.
If you feel that you’re missing some type of protection in an area of your life a good question that I generally ask is “how would I attack myself.” As outlandish as it may seem, putting yourself in the shoes of an attacking spirit can really highlight your weaknesses in defense. Think about how you would attack yourself. How would you bring you to ruin? Destabilize your mental state? Turn your vices sour? Cause arguments between your friend group? Really sit down and think about it.
If you were an enemy to you how would you take yourself down? Once you’ve written a list of your weaknesses or openings then its up to you to place protections on those weak spots. No one can ever be 100% on anything however you can get close.
But the above only applies to people who are slightly more advanced in their practice. If you are just starting in this field of energy work then focusing on the basics of Protecting Yourself, Protecting your space, or protecting your property will be enough.
No matter what the “what” is in your workings of protection magic once you have it you can move onto the next step.
Protection from What?
The way that I learned it there are three core "threats" that you'll be needing to protect yourself from:
Harmful entities
Other magicians
Negative spaces
These three core threats can again be more complex but overall most dangers can come from one of the three or a mix of them.
Protection from other magicians/ other people has two layers in it. Im sure everyone knows what the “evil eye” is. A classic tale of jealousy, hate, ignorance, and anger wrapped up into a single strong gaze that sends a nasty wave of energy aimed at one person in particular. People like this can also spread rumors which can be harmful in its own right. I would count this person as a threat just as much as I’d count another practiced magician as threat.
However if you keep to yourself magic wise and don't go around discord or reddit or Facebook occult groups then running into another magician to piss off is rather difficult. The second layer to this however is mundane people in mundane situations. The threat of robbery, toxic people, and backstabbing is equally a threat as is a magic or evil eye related one.
These layers to the threats of the “other magician/ harmful person” should be handled differently! Just as each method of attack is different, each method of protection from it needs to be different as well. This isn’t me suggesting that every protective ritual has to be miles different then another when you go to make protective items, just that each situation needs to be thought upon differently and carefully.
For all workings- not just defensive ones, I highly recommend you sit down with a type of divination and vet your ideas in regards to protection. Vet if the herbs you're adding to your protection bottle will actually align with the method of protection you want. Vet if the chants you found on the internet would actually be beneficial for the energy work you’re doing. Ask questions! And critically think. You might get a flood of inspiration with grand ideas of ancient circles or pentagrams however if it runs counter to the herbs you're adding then it will make the working muted. Everything has qualities, layers, associations, and aspects.
We all know the basic
Fire - expansion, light
Water - shrinkage, heavy
Air - light, flowing
Earth - heavy, solid
These qualities are important in magic. These qualities being used as measuring systems in the type of energy they bring to a practice are both subjective and objective. Objectively breaking down a plant like a dandelion into various qualities can tell us that its associated with the sun, strength, and air. Its associated with these qualities because of the color, it’s persistence, and the plant's natural cycle of spreading seeds. However breaking it down in a more subjective lens can tell us that its been associated with dreams, wishes, and the heart.
The basic theory behind the understanding of qualities is that nature comes in patterns and repeats. Its the simple as above so below. Learning qualities and how they relate to everything else is hard to learn at first however starting with basic elemental associations for things is a good bridge to start.
Personal associations can have more impact then objective ones in my opinion because its the filter that your energy is going through. How you understand something and how you interpret something will shape your energy. If that shape is the key to the result you want will depend and is why I suggest vetting ideas with divination.
Make sure to vet everything you do in a working. Ask if it effectively brings the change you want. See if there are ways to improve it. Above all make sure you understand the reasons for each step, each herb, each chant, and each everything.
Bringing back the focus to various threats leads me to focus on harmful entities. Harmful entities is a label that I apply to general hostile astral spirits, hostile spirits, or pissed off spirits. The core to this label is that it addresses non physical threats and more astral attacks that can bring harm to your physical body eventually. Technically if a magician were to astral project to you and attempt to cause harm, sow discord, destabilize, ect then they could fall under this label as well.
This is often the big bad that most people think about when they ask about protection magic. Horror movies show us that spirits are just itching to scam, steal, and trick us in some way or form. Setting up protections against this type of threat is good for peace of mind and can come in handy if you happen to cross paths with something thats less then happy.
The last “threat” in this section is negative spaces. This threat is something that I’ve rarely encountered but that I find important to mention. Places with “bad vibes”, spaces where intense violence occurred, some cemeteries, ect. This is where the threat is the area itself and it’s draining capabilities. Think of it like stepping into an old oil puddle that stinks. The stench clings onto your pants and soon you feel like it’s everywhere. The main danger with this type of threat is that it not only drains you but it can attract harmful spirits. These places can make you feel sick, dizzy, cause panic, and even nightmares after you’ve moved from the space.
Needless to say no one wants to experience that so its good to set wards against it.
Each of the sections build up to the final step of protection workings, the how. Just how do you go about protecting yourself? How do you know what qualities are best against certain threats? How do you go about putting it all together?
I am going to answer these questions but I hope not to lead away from the theory that I like to stress. I adore writing rituals and giving instructions but what I mainly like to use these posts as is basic theory. The idea behind the rituals and complex structures that are found within grimoires. The base formula that magic is set up on and that makes it work. I will go on about basic visualization but this how section is not a ritual instruction! This is not a herb recommendation list, or me giving invocations out. This is the base formula of how to use energetic protection. There will always be more complexities then I have time to write for. There will always be more ways to shape, twist, form, and mold energy in creative, efficient, and effective ways to strengthen the effect of a working.
With that out of the way the “how” is the most complicated and vast part of these types of workings. There are so many ways to mold energy, so many ways to call on herbs, gods, use planets, ect. There are so many rituals out there for people to find uncrossings, protection charms, and other protective items. This how section will focus on the black and white of “my energy” and “not my energy.” After you’ve identified what you’re protecting and what you’re protecting it from the how comes down to you.
It comes down to what you have available and what types of vetting you did in the other steps.

• Look at various herbs that have the protective correspondences that you need.
• Look at various stones that have the correspondences that you want
• think if the qualities that you want your protections to have are present in the materials that you have ( think about things like if a stone repels harm or absorbs it, does a herb chase spirits away or does it act like a fence to keep influences away from you)
• look at basic shapes

Most importantly of all, keep it simple. More does not always mean better. I can slap 50 herbs together in a jar but that doesn’t mean its stronger. The main action of the “How” is *How*ever you plan to weave the above steps together. You will need to raise the energy needed to activate the protection. You get to form your own puzzle of ideas and simple shapes to create as many walls around you as you want.
There are various mediums in which you can toss your herbs, stones, sigils, chants, and visualization together.
You can use candles
You can use jars
You can use waters
You can use oils
When putting everything together don't focus too much on how strong something is or how complex it is. Follow what feels right and practice. The occult is a grand place with many secrets and many voices. The best way to stretch yourself out and explore small steps into it is by practicing.
As said before I am no master. My words are never law and people will think differently then I do. Protection magic as a whole is a huge and in-depth study that I didn’t even scratch the surface of. This write up went past what my old one used to be and im kinda happy about that. I might post the old one if I ever feel called to but right now thats all I have! I’d love to hear other’s ideas about protection magic.
and ofc I didn't proof read this nor will I.

It’s that time of year again! Love is in the air along with all the plant jizz, and I am looking for the someone who is willing to venture out into this yellow, dusty mess with me, and then come home and just take a nap before our sinuses close up in anger and we cough ourselves to sleep. I am looking for someone to vent my mundane troubles too, someone that I know would be there to help with whatever may come up, and someone that I can laugh with, someone to cry with, someone that would just run with a crazy idea without hesitation.
Enough about me! Let’s talk about what you may be looking for! Are you looking for that special someone? You know, the one that laugh with on a daily basis. The one that you can have an entire conversation with using nothing but funny pictures? Are you looking for the creepy and the kooky? What about the mysterious and spooky? Would that someone be a person with a mohawk that is forever changing colors? How about a neatly trimmed beard that smells of sandalwood? What about the smell of Old Spice? Would that person also happen to have a few piercings and tattoos? Do you like the twang of a Southern accent? What if that accent was happen to be from a guy who is open minded? Do you enjoy a quick wit? How about being fluent in smartassary? How about a guy that is taking care of way too many fish? How about a guy who is starting to find grey hairs in his beard and is embracing the chance to become a silver fox?
Would you like for that person to be able to build a computer and change your oil all in the same day? How about having your tires rotated, breaks changed? I can even do headlights and air filters! Does the thought of helping turtles cross a busy road and helping tiny tadpoles stay safe with a pool of water during the summer tickle your fancy? Would you like to come home and have a pot roast and chocolate cake waiting for you? How about coming home to that random piece of IKEA furniture fully assembled? What about someone who would help while you built the IKEA? Does the idea of a guy who has reached the level of old that he enjoys puzzles intrigue you? How about if he has a love for cats that like to sit on said unfinished puzzles? Are you looking for a guy who can change your oil, replace your brakes, and cook you dinner in the same day? How about a guy who is good with his hands and knows it? If you answered yes to any of these questions, the nerdy home maker package is for you! Who doesn’t want help around the house, basic maintaince taken care of, and some good dick?
Do you have an endless supply of DIY ideas? Well look no further because I do too! Ever wanted a stylish bat house or raised garden bed? I have made both! Would you want a greenhouse? I have plenty of ideas for that! Do you like watching a guy get dirty restoring canoes or building trailers? Do you have a Mad Max fantasy you want to live out? Do you want a house straight from the shire? I have the skills and the 3d printers to make you swoon with possibilities! If you answered yes to any of these questions, the glistening geek package is for you! What’s not to love about watching someone you like getting sweaty while watching your ideas come to life?
For a limited time, if you pick both packages, I will add in the nerdy outdoorsman package for no extra charge! Want to stay in one weekend and marathon Doctor Who, Star Trek, or Futurama? Do you want to play Don’t Starve Together, DnD, or Civ 6? How about Nerf gun fight, or a game of Mario for bragging rights? Feel like staying up late bundled under a load of blankets watching B movies or playing all manor of video, board, or card games? Feel like getting outdoors instead? I can offer spontaneous adventures that may include wondering aimlessly, hiking, and floating blissfully down a river which singing the PACMAN theme song! Random acts of hilarity that could include striking poses and quoting pop culture references! Are you more of a night owl? I can offer you a view of the stars with my telescope!
How about it? Wanna get itchy eyes and a runny nose with me?

It’s that time of year again! Love is in the air along with all the plant jizz, and I am looking for the someone who is willing to venture out into this yellow, dusty mess with me, and then come home and just take a nap before our sinuses close up in anger and we cough ourselves to sleep. I am looking for someone to vent my mundane troubles too, someone that I know would be there to help with whatever may come up, and someone that I can laugh with, someone to cry with, someone that would just run with a crazy idea without hesitation.
Enough about me! Let’s talk about what you may be looking for! Are you looking for that special someone? You know, the one that laugh with on a daily basis. The one that you can have an entire conversation with using nothing but funny pictures? Are you looking for the creepy and the kooky? What about the mysterious and spooky? Would that someone be a person with a mohawk that is forever changing colors? How about a neatly trimmed beard that smells of sandalwood? What about the smell of Old Spice? Would that person also happen to have a few piercings and tattoos? Do you like the twang of a Southern accent? What if that accent was happen to be from a guy who is open minded? Do you enjoy a quick wit? How about being fluent in smartassary? How about a guy that is taking care of way too many fish? How about a guy who is starting to find grey hairs in his beard and is embracing the chance to become a silver fox?
Would you like for that person to be able to build a computer and change your oil all in the same day? How about having your tires rotated, breaks changed? I can even do headlights and air filters! Does the thought of helping turtles cross a busy road and helping tiny tadpoles stay safe with a pool of water during the summer tickle your fancy? Would you like to come home and have a pot roast and chocolate cake waiting for you? How about coming home to that random piece of IKEA furniture fully assembled? What about someone who would help while you built the IKEA? Does the idea of a guy who has reached the level of old that he enjoys puzzles intrigue you? How about if he has a love for cats that like to sit on said unfinished puzzles? Are you looking for a guy who can change your oil, replace your brakes, and cook you dinner in the same day? How about a guy who is good with his hands and knows it? If you answered yes to any of these questions, the nerdy home maker package is for you! Who doesn’t want help around the house, basic maintaince taken care of, and some good dick?
Do you have an endless supply of DIY ideas? Well look no further because I do too! Ever wanted a stylish bat house or raised garden bed? I have made both! Would you want a greenhouse? I have plenty of ideas for that! Do you like watching a guy get dirty restoring canoes or building trailers? Do you have a Mad Max fantasy you want to live out? Do you want a house straight from the shire? I have the skills and the 3d printers to make you swoon with possibilities! If you answered yes to any of these questions, the glistening geek package is for you! What’s not to love about watching someone you like getting sweaty while watching your ideas come to life?
For a limited time, if you pick both packages, I will add in the nerdy outdoorsman package for no extra charge! Want to stay in one weekend and marathon Doctor Who, Star Trek, or Futurama? Do you want to play Don’t Starve Together, DnD, or Civ 6? How about Nerf gun fight, or a game of Mario for bragging rights? Feel like staying up late bundled under a load of blankets watching B movies or playing all manor of video, board, or card games? Feel like getting outdoors instead? I can offer spontaneous adventures that may include wondering aimlessly, hiking, and floating blissfully down a river which singing the PACMAN theme song! Random acts of hilarity that could include striking poses and quoting pop culture references! Are you more of a night owl? I can offer you a view of the stars with my telescope!
How about it? Wanna get itchy eyes and a runny nose with me?

Respect Yangchen

" I presume you’ve heard of the waterbending saying, ‘A feather’s weight moves a wagon’s load’? This scheme, as you put it, is where I apply the feather."

History: Suffering powerful visions of her past lives from an early age, the Air Nun Yangchen discovered she was the Avatar before she was even 11. Her unprecedented spiritual attunement to her past lives allowed her to claim their endless wisdom and experience as their own. However, it had a cost.
Yangchen lost her companion Jetsun in the Spirit World during Yangchen's first journey there, and the emotional toll of exploring her past lives left her with the weight of unbelievable regret and anguish. Following her mastery of the elements and her duel with General Old Iron, Yangchen became an adept spymaster pulling strings in secret throughout the world to shape the balance she sought to restore. She left behind a greatly-revered legacy of hard fought peace among the Four Nations, but beneath her legend lurked mistakes and regrets of her own whose impact resounded through the centuries.

Source Key: Avatar: The Last Airbender Season # Episode # = ATLA S#E# The Rift = TR The Dawn of Yangchen = DoY The Shadow of Kyoshi = SoK Note: Chapter citations within image links 

Avatar RTs for Reference:

• Respect Avatar Wan
• Respect Avatar Kuruk
• Respect Avatar Kyoshi
• Respect Avatar Roku
• Respect Avatar Aang
• Respect Avatar Korra

Physicals

Strength

• Her grip around Kavik's wrist is described as iron-like, and he reflects that she is stronger than she appears ^DoY

Durability

• Takes a punch from Old Iron and gets back up to do battle with him evenly throughout the night ^{TR 2}

Speed

• Within half a second, interrupts Kavik' attempted escape by re-freezing ice around him he melted to pass through ^DoY
• Considers herself excellent at reacting to airflows, considering a fruit thrown at her as moving at a snail-sloth's pace before airbending it into her hand ^DoY
• Boosts her speed with airbending to run past guards, crossing a field in the blink of an eye while her feet barely touch the ground ^DoY
• Amplifies her speed as she races past an explosion, then leaps up to a balcony to land quietly ^DoY

Airbending

Mobility

• Flies herself out to sea on a column of air to speak with Old Iron ^{TR 2}
• Eavesdropped on conversations by air-spouting beneath windows at the age of 11 prior to mastering airbending ^DoY
• Uses her glider to fly discreetly over Kavik's head to follow him ^DoY
• Launches herself forward while crawling through a secret passageway, keeping herself from harm before stopping ^DoY
• Leaps from her bison over Kavik's head to the ground ^DoY
• Flies between islands on her glider ^DoY
• Slows her descent off a cliff with airbending before suspending herself in the air with the Avatar State ^DoY
• Boosts her speed to run past guards, crossing a field in the blink of an eye while her feet barely touch the ground ^DoY
• Amplifies her speed as she races past an explosion, then leaps up to a balcony to land quietly ^DoY
• Raises herself and a companion on columns of air, then joins them together to land both on a cliffside overhead ^DoY

Breath

• Amplifies her scream to alert guards, blowing out a nearby oil lamp and hurting Kavik's ears even through his hands ^DoY
• Whistles at a pitch too high for humans to hear that summons her sky bison ^DoY
• Raises herself onto her bison with a small tornado ^DoY
• Inflates a raft with a single breath ^DoY
• Shouts, sending papers in the surrounding room flying ^DoY

Air Blasts

• Blows her hair out of her face with a wave of her hand ^DoY
• Shoves Kavik out of her way with a wave of her fingers ^DoY
• Hurls several blasts in dance-like motions that keep her propelled in the air, floating between columns as she lets out her rage ^DoY
• Presses a man into the ground with a slice of her hand, holding him there with a gust of wind ^DoY
• Tears channels into the sea with slices of air to let out her rage ^DoY
• Creates a dust storm from loosened ground, bark, and splinters that blinds several guards, obscuring her infiltration of a city ^DoY

Control

• Sucks Kavik back into a building after he leaps out of it, attempting to escape ^DoY
  • Kavik did not realize Yangchen was the one resisting him until later ^DoY
• Reflects that she is not as adept at ignoring temperatures as other airbenders ^DoY
• Forms a small cyclone with a flick of her wrist that redirects a fruit thrown at her into her hand ^DoY
• Spouts a man upwards, then down into the ground to KO him ^DoY
• Scoops Kavik off her bison to drop him in nearby water ^DoY
• Catches a fainting person from across a room as they fall ^DoY
• Circles around a whirlwind of dust she creates ^DoY
• Drains the air from a room she stands outside, making it impossible for a combustionbender to bend and rendering he and another man incapacitated ^DoY
  • Repeats the process again, incapacitating another target from outside their room without alerting them ^DoY
  • The technique is said to render targets unconscious without them realizing it within ten seconds and threatens to kill them soon after if it continues ^DoY

Waterbending

General

• Freezes water back into ice as a waterbender passes through it, trapping him halfway through the barrier ^DoY
  • Kavik did not realize Yangchen was the one resisting him until later ^DoY
• Reflects that she can feel the faint tug of water from buckets nearby ^DoY
• Raises several bucketloads of water into the air to carry them upstairs ^DoY
• Condenses clouds into drinkable water ^DoY

Healing

• Heals Kavik after he suffers a beating, reducing swelling in his cheek and sealing a gash before repairing damage to his hands from frostbite ^DoY
• Heals a head injury bleeding profusely ^DoY
• Heals a woman who is sick and dying, utilizing extra water and Kavik's help to save the woman's life ^DoY
• When Kavik's broken nose is healed enough to reduce the swelling and allow him to smell he reflects that it still was not on the level of Yangchen's abilities ^DoY
• Yangchen is said to have treated "many gruesome injuries and illneses, seen the worst kind of physical damage" ^DoY
• Stabilizes a woman bleeding arterially from her collar to save her life ^DoY

Earthbending

• Creates a small shelter for herself beneath a storm ^{TR 2}
• Opens and seals brickwork beneath plaster to access a secret passageway ^DoY
• Catches several falling tiles in a tunnel collapsing around her, though there are too many to catch all of them ^DoY
• Tunneled herself out from beneath a building and emerged to the surface without anyone noticing ^DoY
• Slams her feet down, quickly bending a large amount of earth around she and a companion thick enough it keeps out the roar of the nearby ocean waves ^DoY
• Loosens the frozen dirt across a field so that she can blow up a dust storm ^DoY
• Pulls sod from log walls hard enough to KO two men while knocking over and disarming a third ^DoY
• Raises enough stone to block a door from being closed with a flick of her foot ^DoY
• Sledged 3 unconscious men across town, transporting them discreetly ^DoY
• Throws a huge chunk of a street that crashes through a wall ^DoY

Firebending

• Can warm herself with the Breath of Fire technique, those she finds it draining ^DoY
• Creates a candle's worth of flame for light ^DoY
• Snaps her fingers to create a flicker of flame for light ^DoY
• Burns paper in her hands into ash ^DoY
• Opens up her hand to create enough flame to light a small enclosure, which she maintains when her hand is grabbed and stokes as she breathes ^DoY
• Surrounding oil lamps row dim in connection with Yangchen's emotional state ^DoY

Avatar State

• The Avatar State overtakes her, forming a sphere of the four elements around her as she does battle with General Old Iron that includes blocking his blows with walls of earth and gusting him over with gale force winds ^{TR 2}
• Battled evenly with General Old Iron throughout the night, leaving the surrounding city in ruins ^{TR 2}
  • The city was considered the grandest of its time
  • Rumor's start that the city's destruction was due to a typhoon ^DoY
  • The destruction of the city was so thorough that the residents had nowhere to live ^DoY
• Suspends herself in the air while melting and clearing away a field of snow, accomplishing in minutes what would normally take an entire season's worth of change ^DoY
• Gusts the wind across an open field, blowing back grass, trees, and clouds surrounding her ^ATLA
  • Yangchen often used this exercise for practice ^SoK

Spiritual Abilities

Accessing past lives

• As a child, suffered visions of her past lives that left her incapacitated as she accessed their memories ^DoY
• Considers herself keen-eyed, and detects an oncoming threat her experience with her past lives assesses as troublemakers rather than assassins ^DoY
• Sudden panic while crawling through a secret passageway activates a past life's claustrophobia, though she manages to stifle the unbidden memories ^DoY
• Avatars in general are considered prodigious and fast learners, and Yangchen picked up on the skills of spycraft, trickery, and falsehoods ^DoY
• Yangchen is extremely well-read, though she has difficulty remembering which books she read herself and which ones she read in a past life ^DoY
• Attributes her deft understanding of commerce to being an accountant in a past life ^DoY
• Yangchen is exceptional among Avatars for her ability to commune with her past lives ^DoY
• Yangchen has combed through dozens upon dozens and dozens of her past lives' experiences ^DoY
• Past lives are incapable of forming new opinions, fresh predictions, or make decisions for Yangchen in the present world ^DoY

Spiritual Contact

• Meditated into the Spirit World on her first attempt ^DoY
• After mastering the elements, but before fully attuning to the Spirit World, senses General Old Iron approaching from the sea for an attack ^{TR 2}
• Communes with Kyoshi when Kyoshi meditates ^SoK
• Communes with Aang when Aang meditates to speak with his past lives ^{ATLA S3E19}
• Contacts Aang several times and gives him visions, though she is unable to speak. Aang honoring an ancient tradition in her honor allows her to communicate with him and explain that severing Roku's connection limited her ability to contact him, and when next she appears she is silent again ^{TR 1-2}

Skills/Equipment

• Despite Kavik utilizing his experience at evading people following him, Yangchen easily manages to do so by discreetly gliding overhead ^DoY
• Measures Kavik's pulse by grabbing his wrist to tell if he is lying ^DoY
• Quickly determines the best element to use in a fight, then misdirects her opponent with a feint ^DoY
• Flies her sky bison, Nujian, through a storm
• Nujian flattens a crowd with the wind from a paddle of his tail ^DoY
• Communicates with Nujian through subtle motions ^DoY
• Possesses a bison whistle so others can summon Nujian across the span of an island ^DoY

​
Re:
​
Over the past year and a half, following my complaint to the EEOC, I have continuously been subjected to harassment and retaliation by my former employer. The situation escalated when I came across an audiotape revealing the company's VP of Finance discussing financial fraud. I have attached my EEOC complaint and rebuttal to provide you with a better understanding of this situation. The company has embarked on a campaign of retaliation and attempts to cover up the truth. Recently, I discovered that my phone was under surveillance by private investigators hired by my previous employer, Socure Inc. As mentioned earlier, this harassment began at my local YMCA, where multiple individuals were instructed to participate in a planned campaign targeting me. Socure extended their actions beyond the YMCA by continuously tracking my cellphone's location wherever I went. Initially, I suspected I was being followed, but I later realized that my phone had been compromised. My messages and calls were being monitored, and even my home internet seemed to be tapped into. Furthermore, I have reason to believe that my bank transactions were being monitored as well. I am being targeted because I disclosed illegal activities involving the VP of Finance, which he was afraid to share. I’m one hundred percent certain that Socure hacked into my cellphone to eavesdrop on all conversations. Any and all things that I discuss with my wife would later be discussed amongst gym goers, at multiple Mosque, and random places I often visit. I have attached my EEOC compliant for further assessment of this situation.
​
The following individuals, whom I suspect were compensated, were involved in collecting information about me and fabricating false allegations:
* Sonia Atherly, the Director of the YMCA
* Stephin Roberts, a YMCA member who became a friend
* Ade A. (last name unknown), a YMCA member who became a friend
* Andre Nelson, a friend from Downtown YMCA Brooklyn whom I haven't spoken to in two years
* Austin Hill, a YMCA member who accompanied Andre Nelson
* Ethan, a YMCA member (last name unknown)
* Torell Taylor, a YMCA member
* Multiple neighbors: units 5A, 5F, and 2X PHE
* Serdar Cam, former neighbor and new neighbor at 322 Gates Ave
* Trevor (last name unknown), a YMCA member
* Justin (last name unknown), a YMCA member
* An unidentified female YMCA member who unexpectedly appeared at a restaurant where my wife and I were in Puerto Rico
* Gavin Tseng, a former friend who orchestrated a scheme involving real estate and a startup concept
​
Retaliations took place at the following locations:
* Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA: 1121 Bedford Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11216
* Brooklyn Mosque Khalifa: 120 Madison St, Brooklyn, NY
* Islamic Mission of America/Dawood Mosque: 143 State St, Brooklyn, NY 11201
* Airport Travels: JFK AirTrain
* Puerto Rico Vacation: Hilton Hotel
* Trip to Milwaukee: Airbnb rental at 1028 East Juneau Avenue, Unit 416, Milwaukee, WI 53202
* Supermarket in Brooklyn: 1420 Fulton St, Brooklyn, NY 11216
* Multiple Banking Institutions: Chase at 1380 Fulton St, Brooklyn, NY 11216 & TD Bank at 957 Marcy Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11216
* Multiple NYC Train Platforms: Hoyt–Schermerhorn Streets station & 125th Street Station
* Apartment Building: 322 Gates Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11216
​
Types of framing and allegations being built against me:
* Resume fraud
* Real estate fraud
* Influencing people to file lawsuits
* Influencing neighbors to complain
* False restaurant reporting
* False robbery attempt
* And more...
​
​
Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA Director, Sonia Atherly - Staged Office Phone Video Recording:
Sonia Atherly, the director of the Bedstuy YMCA, participated in a retaliatory campaign. On September 29, 2022, she requested a meeting with me in her office. During our conversation, she pulled out her phone and began recording from her work monitor, alleging that a masked individual had entered the gym. She even asked me to view the video footage. While I complied, her phone continued recording, capturing my voice in the process. This action appears to be an attempt to counter the accusations made by the VP of Finance regarding fraudulent activities and manipulate my voice recordings to paint a negative picture of my behavior. In response to my concerns, the YMCA director provided the following reply: "Hi Lou. I believe that it was on Tuesday, and I was actually taking photos, so no, your voice would not have been captured in any way. To be clear, we do not record conversations at the Y in any way, shape, or form unless we have signed event waivers. I hope this clarifies the matter for you." On September 30, 2022, Sonia orchestrated an incident where the same individual showed up at the front desk as I was leaving, hoping to provoke a response from me and involve me in their investigation. For months, non-members of the YMCA were allowed to come into the facility and harass me while surveillance cameras were purposely turned off to destroy any possible evidence.
​
Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA Program Coordinator, Jeff (Damian Best):
Upon my arrival at the basketball gym, Jeff, the program coordinator, and a parent with her child were already present. After requesting Jeff to wait a few more minutes, the parent engaged in a heated argument with him, demanding to know why her child couldn't participate since no one else was there. I reassured her that while I didn't mind, Jeff was responsible for setting the rules. She eventually left the gym in an angry state. Their intention was to have me report the incident to management and portray me as someone who constantly complains. On October 4, 2022, I sent an email to myself for record-keeping purposes.
​
Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA Member, Ade (last name starting with "A"):
On Saturday, October 8, 2022, Ade and I agreed to meet for a late lunch at "The Green Place" in Brooklyn. I noticed that he kept referencing financial figures related to specific people he worked with. I suspect he has also been recruited to participate in Socure's retaliation against me. Their goal is to capture recordings of me to use them against me, claiming that I habitually record people. Ade also expressed dissatisfaction with the YMCA's adult open gym times during Saturday's basketball hours. He mentioned having discussed it with the front desk. On October 9, 2022, Ade sent me a screenshot of the YMCA's response to his request. It's important to note that I never made any complaints. As someone who lives near the YMCA and often wakes up early, I told him, "I don't want to play." Once again, Socure is attempting to build a case portraying me as someone who incessantly complains and records people to divert attention from their own misconduct. Multiple members were instructed to complain to me so that my name can be implicated. I believe that individuals are being compensated to assist them. In early May 2023, both Ade and Stephin Roberts repeatedly interrupted my workout in an attempt to initiate a conversation with me.
​
Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA member, Stephin Roberts - Staged information gathering:
Stephin Roberts, a fellow YMCA member, unexpectedly called me after we crossed paths at the gym, which was an unusual occurrence. We exchanged brief greetings, and I proceeded with my workout. I suspect that his intention in calling me was to record our conversation and use it against me, falsely claiming that I frequently record people, which is entirely untrue. Given that my cellphone was being tracked, it seemed that whenever I left my home, I would coincidentally encounter Mr. Roberts. He had been instructed to fabricate a false DUI incident to elicit personal information from me regarding a case on my record that had been expunged. During our conversation, I shared a past experience of mine involving a car accident I had when I was younger while dating someone, as well as my advice on expungement, recounting a personal incident that happened to me. At the time, I thought Mr. Roberts was a genuine person with good intentions. I believe Socure will be attempting to coordinate and get me arrested for theft or burglary based on the previous expunged records, trying to paint a negative image of who I am. I believe Stephin Roberts has been recording me as a tactic instructed by Socure's private investigator.
​
Friend from Downtown YMCA Brooklyn whom I haven't spoken with in two years, Andre Nelson at Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA:
I haven't had any communication with Andre Nelson for more than two years. However, he unexpectedly appeared at the gym I regularly attend on a Wednesday evening, despite it not being in close proximity to his residence. Subsequently, Mr. Nelson started frequenting the gym with his friend Austin Hill. Together, they began coordinating with YMCA members, informing them about my situation with Socure. Within one week, one of Austin Hill's Facebook friends reached out to me, mentioning a potential collaboration with someone they knew, namely Austin Hill. As I stated, I've never met Mr. Hill nor had any connection with people he knew outside of Mr. Nelson. When I encountered Mr. Hill during the following open gym session, he acted as though nothing had transpired, and I played along. Additionally, Austin requested certain documents from me for his business, but I never fulfilled his request. To confirm my suspicions that Austin was attempting to set me up, I orchestrated an event by telling him, "Yeah, man, girls don't care if you have a ring on. They will approach you. Come to this bar tonight." Upon my arrival at the bar a few minutes later, a woman wearing a wedding band tried to get my attention. However, I sensed that it was a staged occurrence. When Andre Nelson and Austin Hill arrived, they infiltrated the group of members, instructing them to provoke me during the basketball game while secretly recording my reactions. At one point, a member named Justin threw a water bottle, and the situation escalated.
​
Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA member, Trevor - Staged information gathering:
Trevor started asking and mentioning multiple work-related questions. On October 7, 2023, he mentioned having a quarterly review and asked for suggestions. Within weeks later, Trevor asked me if I knew any lawyers as he was dealing with a housemaid who was suing him. This same situation happened with more than two other members (Stephin Roberts, Kadeem Kirsten) in which they asked me attorney-related questions. I believe he was instructed to record our conversations.
Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA member, Torrell Taylor:
As previously mentioned, I believe that the YMCA's Director is monitoring my interactions with other gym members in order to collaborate with them. Their objective is to falsely claim that "Lou is influencing people to document incidents," all with the intention of tarnishing my reputation. Additionally, Socure allegedly requested Torrell to open a restaurant in downtown Brooklyn as part of their scheme to build a case against me. YMCA member Justin repeatedly approached me, informing me that Torrell had opened a restaurant with poor-quality food and suggested I visit. Upon receiving this information from Torrell himself, I decided to pay the restaurant a visit. However, Torrell was not present during my first visit. I attempted a second visit, only to discover that the restaurant was closed. When I texted Torrell to inquire about the closure, he responded that there had been an issue with the owner's licensing. It is apparent to me that this was a staged event orchestrated by Socure to fabricate a case against me by falsely claiming that I reported violations against Torrell's restaurant. As mentioned earlier, I strongly believe that my phone was being tracked, and it is possible that a separate line was used to make false reports under my information.
Furthermore, my emails were also subjected to hacking.
​
Wireless Earbuds Planned at the Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA open gym by Kadeem Kirsten - early 2022:
To ensure my privacy and personal space during the YMCA open gym sessions, I started choosing a spot away from others. I made sure to thoroughly clean the area where I sat, removing any bottles, wipes, or other items. After finishing my workout, I briefly went to the bathroom, and upon my return, I noticed a wireless earbud near the window close to my chair. I suspect that Khadim Kirsten intentionally placed the earbud there as he kept watching me closely. Mr. Kirsten also asked me for legal advice as well as a UX Designer, the same exact topic that Gavin Tseng asked me. Mr. Kirsten is one of those new members who never came to the YMCA. Upon rejecting Socure's settlement offer in January 2023, that's when all of these new members started coming to open basketball nights.
​
Mosque Khalifa on Bedford Ave: Sept 2, 2022, at 120 Madison St, Brooklyn, NY, United States, New York:
During the service at Mosque Khalifa on Bedford Ave, the preacher persistently addressed a specific topic related to my case. He made references to "a brother within this community, one of our own, who made a recording" in an apparent attempt to divert attention to the tape I had recorded. Following my complaint to the EEOC through email, the recording was promptly deleted on the same day, which I later submitted to the EEOC. I started attending Islamic Mission of America/Dawood Mosque at 143 State St, Brooklyn, NY 11201, and immediately, I was followed by an individual who repeatedly tried to have a conversation with me. I was also followed to a Mosque in Harlem, NY.
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T-Mobile Visit Tracking / Unauthorized new number added at 574 Atlantic Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11217:
Concerned about the security of my internet connection with Verizon, I visited T-Mobile to add a new line specifically for internet access. To my surprise, shortly after arriving at the store, a male approached the same register I was standing at and started asking questions. A few days after leaving the store, I discovered that a new phone line had been added to my T-Mobile account without my knowledge or consent. I promptly contacted T-Mobile customer service to inquire about the data usage associated with that particular number, but unfortunately, I did not receive the requested information. I believe Socure hacked my home network, such as my laptop, tablet, Television and home camera. For the past year and a half, Socure has managed to view all of my browsing history. I believe they kept contacting lawyers that I reached out to after every visit I made on their website to avoid me from being represented. In additional, after noticing that my email accounts were hacked, I wrote a statement indicating that my emails were hacked in which I got notarized at TD Bank.
​
​
Grocery Shopping Brooklyn:
During my visit to the local supermarket, I noticed several individuals following me closely, paying particular attention to the food items I was selecting and the card I used for payment. I believe I was being followed long before I started to notice.
* May 8, 2023, at 1420 Fulton St, Brooklyn, NY 11216
* May 1, 2023, at 1420 Fulton St, Brooklyn, NY 11216
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Online Job Targeting:
I have been repeatedly targeted for specific jobs and companies, which I believe are staged by Socure, just as they did by involving me in a company backed by their investors to stage multiple events against me while interfering with my employment. I was lured into Plural, formerly known as Civic Eagle, where multiple African American candidates who did not qualify were being hired without my knowledge. All whom I’ve never spoke with. I suspect that Socure somehow gained access to my T-Mobile account and requested my entire call history to monitor my communications. Furthermore, I believe that when I sought legal counsel after receiving the EEOC's authorization to file a lawsuit, Socure clandestinely intervened in my calls to every law firm I contacted.
​
Puerto Rico Vacation on Dec 23, 2022:
Upon our arrival at our room in Puerto Rico, we noticed a black male who entered a room adjacent to ours shortly after us. However, after a couple of days, we did not see him again.
During a visit to a restaurant in Puerto Rico, I recognized the hostess as the same woman I had encountered multiple times at the YMCA. She had her head covered with a white scarf. As I was seated facing the entrance, she deliberately made eye contact with me, seemingly aware that I recognized her. After finishing lunch, this same woman followed us to the waterfront and watched us closely.
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Neighbor Tracking Movement at 322 Gates Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11216:
Every time I left my building, I noticed a consistent pattern where the neighbor from 5F would coincidentally head towards the elevator, wait in the lobby, and enter the building exactly at the same time. This behavior raised suspicions and led me to believe that individuals from 5A were strategically positioned next door, potentially tapping our walls to eavesdrop on our conversations. The neighbor in 5A, whom I knew through the YMCA, repeatedly complained about the building while urging me to submit a work order. I also suspect that Socure assisted one of my former neighbors, Serdar Cam, in moving into the building after they discovered my text messages about potentially moving there. Immediately after moving in, Serdar started complaining as well. I believe Socure was involved in placing a previous female tenant in the building, who also complained to me on multiple occasions about the building.
​
Uber License Training:
Once again, Socure monitored the location of my phone and deployed individuals to the classroom where I was attending classes in Long Island City in early March 2023. After completing the classes, I became too afraid of potentially facing false rider allegations.
​
New Open Gym Invitation by Bedford-Stuyvesant YMCA member Ethan, Andre Nelson was present on March 2, 2023, at 300 Adelphi, Brooklyn, NY 11205:
Ethan, a fellow YMCA member, invited me to join him at a nearby gym. To my surprise, Andre Nelson was also in attendance. While playing on the court, I noticed one of the players guarding me had a conspicuous microphone attached to them, and an Asian woman diligently captured footage from different angles with a video camera. I believe they were recording my voice and actions on the court. Additionally, it seems that after complaining about what happened at the YMCA, members are being instructed to engage me outside the YMCA to diffuse the situation. This incident further raised my suspicion that our apartment might be under surveillance, as I had previously mentioned Andre Nelson's presence at the open gym to my wife. Moreover, during the open run, I noticed the unexpected presence of multiple YMCA members from the Downtown Brooklyn location, whom I hadn't encountered in the past four years. I firmly believe that Andre Nelson orchestrated their participation and that they were strategically placed as collaborators by Socure.
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New Gym Invites
After fully understanding that I knew about all of the plans in place at the YMCA, with the help of the YMCA Director, Sonia Atherly, multiple members were told to invite me to other gyms to built a campaign of “ this is Lou everywhere he goes”. Over six plus individuals were asked to invite me to new open gyms and men’s league to play in. This is all to avoid further problems at the gym.
​
Real Estate / Startup Venture Inquiry by Gavin Tseng:
Due to ongoing targeting, I decided to distance myself from everyone for months. However, my friend Gavin Tseng, whom I knew while living in Downtown Brooklyn, repeatedly invited me to his upstate home and wanted me to see properties he was interested in purchasing. It was quite unusual that Mr. Tseng would frequently text me, asking about my availability on specific days. I suspect that Mr. Tseng was recording our conversations during the trips and multiple phone calls, where he sought my help with UX Designing for his apartment rental car service. I believe Socure conducted research on my past work history, including my involvement in a Delegate campaign in Maryland for a real estate professional. I suspect that Socure fabricated false accusations against this individual and used my information to create misleading claims, leveraging my network and devices.
​
Subways / Stores Staged Evidence Building:
Regardless of the subway station I find myself in, I consistently experience being followed by random individuals who are instructed to approach me closely while holding their cellphones up to my face and posing questions. On multiple occasions, I recall three females approaching me seeking guidance regarding subway directions, and I willingly offered my assistance. However, I have recently become aware that individuals, including camera operators, have been capturing these interactions on film as part of what appears to be a deliberate campaign to discredit me.
​
March 28, 2023 - Travel to Milwaukee:
While traveling to Milwaukee for a getaway from my wife after several disputes, I noticed that I was being followed at the airport. The surveillance continued throughout my stay at the Airbnb located at 1028 East Juneau Avenue, Unit 416, Milwaukee, WI 53202, from March 28, 2023, to April 11, 2023. I also experienced being followed at the Hertz car rental at 804 Vel R. Phillips Ave, Milwaukee, WI 53203, on April 6, 2023, and at the Pleasant Prairie Premium Outlet at 11211 120th Ave, Pleasant Prairie, WI 53158, on the same day.
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April 12, 2023 - Returning back from Milwaukee:
Immediately after arriving back in New York City from my two-week vacation, at around 3:45 pm ET, just two minutes after landing, I received a text message from a YMCA member whom I hadn't communicated with in over three weeks. The message mentioned something along the lines of "See you tonight," which I promptly deleted. This unmistakable occurrence served as a clear indication that my phone was under surveillance and being tracked.
​
April 21, 2023 & May 7, 2023 - Vitamin Shoppe at 12 4th Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11217:
As I entered the Vitamin Shoppe in Downtown Brooklyn on Atlantic Ave, I noticed that I was being followed. While at the checkout counter, an African American gentleman positioned himself next to me, seemingly eavesdropping on my account information and the items I was purchasing. I strongly suspect that a similar incident occurred during my previous visit on April 21, 2023, although I was not actively observing at that time.
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On May 6, 2023, between 11:30 am - 12:45 pm - JFK AirTrain:
Once again, I became aware that my phone was being tracked. I accompanied my wife to the airport as she was departing for Milwaukee. Upon arriving at the station, an assertive African American woman in her late 30s hurriedly approached us, despite the presence of multiple station operators. She aggressively stopped us and began asking for directions. Sensing something amiss, I promptly distanced myself from the situation while my wife attempted to assist her with the directions.
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Friday, May 11, 2023 at Costco Eyewear at 517 E 117th St, New York, NY 10035: While I was sharing my information, a woman in her late 50s approached the counter and closely observed my personal details. I have come to believe that Socure has someone at Chase informing them of my location whenever I use my Chase bank card. The day before, I made purchases with my Chase card at Costco.
​
Friday, May 11, 2023 at Costco at 517 E 117th St, New York, NY 10035: While conversing with a product representative at Costco, a young female employee in her late teens or early twenties approached with an older Senegalese gentleman in his late 60s. The gentleman sought assistance with a product due to his limited English proficiency. As he showed me his phone up close, I noticed someone recording our interaction from a distance. Once again, I felt as though I was being followed. It seems that a private investigator was aware of my recent purchase of fish oil at Vitamin Shoppe on May 7, 2023, as well as my pursuit of becoming a personal trainer. They orchestrated the scenario with the gentleman asking me specific questions about fish oil. It's worth noting that the material I was studying for personal training explicitly states that trainers should not recommend any medication to individuals.
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Saturday, May 13, 2023, at Hoyt Station in Brooklyn: Once more, I found myself being followed into the train station. While I was waiting there, a woman approached me once again, seeking directions. Without hesitation, I gestured towards someone else nearby and firmly replied, "No, ask her." Interestingly, there was a man across the platform holding two cameras, capturing the entire interaction between us. Following the unsuccessful attempt, the woman conversed with the man briefly before they both boarded the train.
Saturday, May 13, 2023, at Bedford and Quincy in Brooklyn: As I neared my apartment building, I noticed two cameramen once again attempting to record me. Sensing their presence and their intention to cross the street, I quickly changed course and crossed over to the other side, putting some distance between us.
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Saturday, May 13, 2023 - TD Bank at 957 Marcy Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11216: While I was withdrawing cash from the ATM, a white male in his late 20s, accompanied by a dog, was recording me from outside. I also believe Socure did some digging into all of my transactions at my local banks, such as Chase and TD Bank.
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Saturday, May 13, 2023 - Credit Card information altered: When I logged into my Discover Credit Card account, I observed that my information had been modified.
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Monday, May 14, 2023 - Best Buy Brooklyn at 625 Atlantic Ave Ste A7, Brooklyn, NY 11217: Upon reaching the printing department at 12:14 pm ET, I was harassed by an African American woman in her late 60s. I ignored her and left through the opposite side, but she continued to follow me and tried to engage in a conversation.
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Tuesday, May 16, 2023, at Target 517 E 117th St Suite 201, New York, NY 10035, at 10:46 am ET: Upon realizing that I was aware of the cover-up occurring, where individuals were tailing me and inquiring with their phones in hand, Socure strategically positioned an African gentleman near the entrance of the targeted bathroom. They had been closely observing my actions. Remarkably, this man was dressed identically to me during the incident that unfolded on Friday, May 11, 2023
​
While waiting in line, I believe a Senegalese couple were instructed to chat about illegal activities intentionally while I was behind them and they absurdly moved to another line.
​
Tuesday, May 16, 2023 - Cohen’s Fashion Optical at 86 W 125th St, New York, NY 10027: While retrieving my reading glasses from Costco, I discovered that the prescription was stronger than what was indicated in the eye examination. The lenses ended up negatively impacting my vision. I requested to review the physician's notes from the exam, but despite waiting for over 30 minutes, they were unable to provide any documentation as the physician was acting very strange. Instead, they gave me evasive responses, leading me to ultimately leave without a resolution.
​
May 18, 2023 - Chase Bank at 1380 Fulton St, Brooklyn, NY 11216 @ 12 PM ET: Around 12 PM ET on May 18, 2023, at Chase Bank on Fulton Ave in Brooklyn, I experienced another incident I believe involves Socure. An individual was sent to tail me, and it began at TD Bank where this person approached the teller in an ostentatious manner, loudly expressing their intentions. I suspect this encounter was being recorded in an attempt to frame a robbery on me. It seems that Socure is continuously monitoring my activities, possibly as a diversion from the fact that their former CFO was untrustworthy. Regardless of where I go, I am constantly being followed, with new tactics being devised every time I step outside my home.
I’m writing to put a stop to this targeting and ongoing harassment.

This text was originally written as a response to a thread about a specific fictotype, but it's all stuff I've found myself repeating a lot on specific requests, so I figured I'd copypasta and just edit it to be applied more generally. Because I don't want to re-write it to any large degree, I'm just awkwardly replacing the name and pronouns with the word "kin" out of pure laziness.
This is intended to be a continuing WIP and communal [in spite of the silly name I picked when I started this project at 22+ hrs awake ^_^;;] repository for advice and things people have found useful for alleviating their own dysphoria to help others in similar situations. I do hope everyone will add their own advice in the comments, especially if it's something I haven't already included or something that's very specific to your kintype. I'm going to try to keep things more generalized for the sake of the length, but if you have something specific to your kintype that's been helpful for you, please include it so it can help others with your kintype. :)
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Appearance:
If you can wear makeup, use it to look more like [kin] (contouring can do amazing things with some practice and a few good tutorials), or wear colors [kin] would enjoy wearing/would resemble [kin].
Style your hair to look like [kin]; even if it's a length or color you can't replicate for reasons, maybe [kin]'s hair does a flippy thing and you can get your hair to do a similar flippy thing, or if [kin]'s hair is side-parted then part your hair on the same side.
If you can wear nail polish and there's a specific color [kin] likes to have [kin]'s nails painted or [kin]'s claws aren't standard-human-nails-colored, paint them that color or just [kin]'s favorite color.
Does [kin] have any tattoos/markings? Assuming they're not distressing to [kin] or you, grab some non-toxic markers/body paints/makeup and illustrate yourself. If they're washable markers/makeup, you'll be able to get rid of the evidence in a hurry if you need to. It doesn't have to be any sort of flawless replica of [kin]'s tattoos/markings, this isn't a competition; the only thing it needs to accomplish is helping you feel better.
Pointy ears? If prosthetic appliances aren't an option at the time but seeing your ears pointed would help, use some bandaids to make temporary ears. Just take the wrapper and paper backing off, wrap that sh*t over itself like an awareness ribbon logo so that the sticky is on the inside and apply the crossed "arms" of the bandaid to the backside of the ear so the point looks nice from the front. ^_^
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Clothing:
Wear clothes [kin] would like, or similar to what [kin] wears, or that resemble [kin]'s appearance in some way, depending on what's available to you. If [kin]'s a jean jacket [kin], maybe get a jean jacket. If [kin]'s a suit-and-tie [kin], a button-down shirt would be a start. If [kin] prefers mismatched socks, mismatch your socks. If [kin]'s clothes are patched, add patches to your own. If [kin] has scales, you can look for clothes made with scale-print fabric or add scales to plain clothes with fabric paint by making a stencil out of cardstock or a stamp out of craft foam. If [kin] has wings, perhaps paint [kin]'s wings on the back of a sweatshirt to wear, or find/make a shawl that reminds you of those wings.
You can pick accessories similar to [kin]'s or that [kin] would like. If [kin] has a favorite hat, you may be able to find a hat like it. If [kin] has a specific scarf [kin] wears, you might be able to find or make something similar. If there's a piece of jewelry that's important to [kin], perhaps you can find a similar item. If [kin] has piercings that you can't or wouldn't otherwise want to get, fake-piercing jewelry is widely available in accessory stores and (in the US at least) even easier to find around Halloween. If [kin] has horns, try putting hair clips that have a *little* weight on the places on your head where [kin]'s horns would be. Going back to wings, if [kin]'s wings tend to be heavy, then a small or lightly packed backpack may help replicate the feeling (nothing too heavy, we don't want to get hurt).
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Environment:
If you can redecorate to match [kin]'s environment or an environment [kin] would be comfy in, more power to ya. If you can't go all out, smaller changes can help, too. Hanging pictures on your walls that [kin] would hang, maybe pictures you remember in [kin]'s living space or pictures of places or people important to [kin], can help - maybe find some nice fanart online and print it, or order a print from the artist if you can.
Listen to music [kin] likes! On your headphones if you have to, or out loud if you can - music is very therapeutic.
Is there a smell that puts you in [kin]-mode? Maybe there's a scent that's very important to [kin] or makes [kin] very happy. Bring that smell into your space, whether it's a perfume, an air freshener, a scent diffuser with essential oils, a room spray, or a scented jar candle left unlit with the lid off. Scent is a powerful thing, and your nose knows.
Does [kin] have a pet, or is there a pet you know [kin] wants? Don't buy a real pet just because it's what [kin] has/wants, that's not fair to the animal, but find a way to represent [kin]'s pet in your environment. Maybe a picture of that pet, or a plushie that looks kind of like it. You could even make your own. ^_^
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Food:
Most non-human beings/creatures/etc have dietary needs and habits that differ from a biological human's, some but not all of which are safe for a human body to eat or live on long term. Raw meats, for example, need to be handled extremely carefully and prepared in very precise ways in order to be safe to eat for a human body, so it's usually not a good idea to do so without the right preparation. Some kintypes eat things that a human body just can't properly handle no matter how it's prepared, such as a being/creature that eats rocks/crystals or ingests metal as a normal part of their diet. Some even subsist on things that don't exist in our universe at all currently (I'm looking at you, energon).
So, what do?
Make something that's safe for a human body that resembles a not-safe-for-human-consumption food that your kintype would likely eat!
Using the arbitrary example of a machinekin who's kinself eats scrap metal, one might get candy molds in the shape of machine parts or hardware and use them with melting chocolate/candy to loosely replicate scrap metal in an edible form. Places that sell cake decorating stuff will often have metallic food coloring sprays along with their regular colors, which can definitely make candy gears much more realistic.
On the example of rocks and crystals, isomalt sugar can be made into lovely crystals that are safe to eat and candy meant to look like pebbles and gravel are pretty common (at least in the US market). One could also use the melting candy idea from above with crystal or gem shaped molds, it would look nice with shiny food coloring spray in colors. Rock candy is also a thing (the candy crystal cluster on a wooden stick) and typically inexpensive when you find it in stores.
For a kintype who eats sticks/trees or bones, crunchy pretzels could potentially be a good human-body-safe substitute, especially pretzel sticks and rods. Not only are there numerous halloween snack recipes out there to decorate them to resemble bones, they have a solid "crunch" as you grind them between your teeth and can be snapped nicely in your hands if your kinself tends to break the bones/branches apart before eating them. Also, if you compare a cross-section of a human long-bone to a cross-section of a crunchy pretzel rod, you'll notice a distinct visual similarity in their inner structures.
For more carnivorous kintypes, properly cooked animal proteins are something a human body can definitely handle. If your kinself generally only eats their meat raw, look at the sensory traits from the eating-raw-meat experience and find safe ways to replicate those traits. Is the raw meat extra juicy? Maybe give it a good marinade before you cook it, or add sauce to it after. Is there a certain scent to your kinself's preferred meat? Experiment with sauces, marinades, and seasonings on various meats to get as close as you can to it. Carnivorous kintype but not exactly a "meat" person in this life? Plant-based meat-substitutes are more widely available and more diverse on the market than ever before and could make a great place to start, and don't forget our old friend tofu. Tofu honestly is as versatile as the jokes imply. ^_^
Is your kintype stuck with a warm, liquid protein diet while everyone around you is enjoying lamb chops and Mallowmars? Not to fear, blood-drinkers, you also have options. u/Sea-Bee1133 and others have made suggestions like wine (if you're legal), cranberry juice, and tomato juice, and included the info that cornstarch or thickening powders sold in stores can be used to thicken beverages to a more blood-like consistency.
Kintype eats bugs? [Uh, no need to share your snacks with me! I'm good, but thanks. ^_^;;] While lots of bugs are or can be made safe for human consumption (I don't have a list of which, if anyone knows of a reliable reference please put a link in the comments), there are a lot of candies on the market that resemble bugs and candy recipes that can be made to look like bugs. Halloween recipe websites tend to have tons of treats, savory and sweet, that can be made to look like bugs in their repertoire. Squid-ink pasta and noodles also look kinda wormy and could be made "slimy" by tossing them with a bit of butter or olive oil after draining them.
Honestly, Halloween recipe websites keep coming up as good resources for stuff. Bones? Look up Halloween recipes. Blood? Look up Halloween recipes. Human flesh? Look up Halloween recipes. Bugs? Look up Halloween recipes. I'm noticing a trend. If you know of any especially good sites, please hook me up with a link.
What about things that don't exist in our known-universe currently?
Let's look at liquid energon: Not an amazing idea, but if one had a slightly cloudy beverage (translucent rather than transparent or opaque), there are cups with lights built into the bottom and light-up "ice cubes" designed for putting into beverages that could add color and glow. Glow sticks, while technically an available option that would do the job of adding color and glow, do have the potential to leak if the outer case gets damaged and that would immediately make food/drink that it touches completely unsafe to consume. On those specific grounds, I can't recommend glow sticks; safety first.
How about gagh, a staple of Klingon comfort food? While there's no serving it live, squid-ink udon noodles do look like a smaller-scale gagh and are completely safe for a human body to eat. Make it a bit slimy by tossing it with a bit of butter or olive oil after you drain it, or try to get Nanna B'Etor and great-Aunt Lursa to share the family's secret recipe for sauce to go on it. The choice is yours. ^_^
Also, bread sculpting is amazing, and any bread sculpture could potentially have fillings in it like a calzone. If you feel the need to rend the flesh of mankind with tooth and claw and feel the hot blood and organs squoosh out, make a calzone shaped like a little guy with pepperoni pizza toppings or something. [BBQ chicken calzone guy sounds amazing, tbh. ^_^;;]
​
Behavior:
Are there certain social norms in [kin]'s culture that, while not considered bad by the society your current self lives in, aren't generally practiced where you live? Maybe [kin]'s culture sings a song of gratitude before meals like some cultures recite a prayer before eating, or uses a specific greeting that isn't normally used in your community but wouldn't be taken as offensive or cause for concern by your community. Why not include it in your daily behaviors?
In a different thread about vampirekin, u/Sea-Bee1133 mentioned that a common thread in some vampire lore is that a vampire must ask permission before entering someone's home. While not standard practice in all communities, it is widely accepted as a polite behavior and wouldn't be offensive to most if you were to add it to your normal behavior.
Mentality:
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*Important*:
One very important thing to keep in mind, a point I saw bravely voiced by u/G2Dolphin at risk of being the "unpopular opinion," is that you *are* you and shouldn't need to force yourself into a mold to become you. You already are your kinself and your kinself is you regardless of whether you fit every canon detail or popular stereotype to the letter. It's just like the old "Am I still a Goth if I also like pink?" quandary that continues to arise in new forms. Not being an exact match to the popular stereotypes of [insert thing here] doesn't mean you aren't [that thing], it means you aren't a cookie-cutter stereotype of [the thing]. Relying on being an exact match to the stereotypes/canon details of your kintype (or any other form of identity) to validate your identity will only ever leave you feeling fake, and you don't need that. Your kin identity also doesn't need it - trying to force yourself to fit the mold doesn't improve the legitimacy and failing to fit the mold doesn't diminish the legitimacy. You already are you, and stereotypes are not the law or gospel by which to define yourself.
What stereotypes and canon details of kintypes *are* useful for, is exploring. They can be helpful as a starting point to figure things out. Using vampires as an example again, it's very common in modern lore for vampires to have fangs, drink blood, sunburn even worse than a Victorian poet, dress in fancy clothes, shapeshift, and be seductive. These traits are not standard across the board. Looking at the earlier documented examples of European vampire folklore, they have more in common with George Romero's zombies than they do with Dracula, Lestat, and Edward. If you're vampirekin, but you've found that the modern vampire lore really doesn't fit your experiences, this is a guaranteed indication of one thing alone: that your experiences aren't the same as Edward's. What to do? Expand your search range for vampire traits to test. You don't have to dismiss your experiences or identity just because it doesn't fit what you expected. Maybe start with Dracula, find what does and doesn't fit, and keep going along through Lestat, Edward, Count Orlock, Balkan folklore, all the way around through Jiang Shi (and even Count Chocula if it helps, why not) on a journey of self-exploration to find your truth.
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That's what this is all about, after all: *your* truth.
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Thanks to u/Sea-Bee1133, u/G2Dolphin, and others for letting me share your info and ideas! :D
Please add any little tips and tricks you have to help with kin-related dysphoria in the comments. ^_^

just incase someone else googles it and dont find the info they need. (like i didnt lol)
i wanted to know what oil filters from royal purple will fit my subaru and mazda. and after alot of cross refrancing and finally buying two filters i have found the following.
10-2808 (larger diameter and slightly taller than 2876 but shorter than 2867. has a coil srping for the bypass valve. will be using this in my diesel impreza ee20 engine.
10-2876 (pretty much the exact size as a standard subaru filter)
10-2867 (pretty much the same as 2876 but one cm taller so more filter media and surface aerea. will likely be best option in most subaru applications. will be using this in my rx7)
all these filters use a m20 1.5 thread. and have the same diameter for the oring seal (68mm i think)

just incase someone else googles it and dont find the info they need. (like i didnt lol)
i wanted to know what oil filters from royal purple will fit my subaru and mazda. and after alot of cross refrancing and finally buying two filters i have found the following.
10-2808 (larger diameter and slightly taller than 2876 but shorter than 2867. has a coil srping for the bypass valve. will be using this in my diesel impreza ee20 engine.
10-2876 (pretty much the exact size as a standard subaru filter)
10-2867 (pretty much the same as 2876 but one cm taller so more filter media and surface aerea. will likely be best option in most subaru applications. will be using this in my rx7)
all these filters use a m20 1.5 thread. and have the same diameter for the oring seal (68mm i think)

First Previous
Wiki RoyalRoad
Cover Art & Travis Portrait by Pedro Puglisi
Journal Entry #8
I left the village today. It will never be my home again.
I managed to muster enough dignity to at least walk out with the hunters and witch. I've seen plenty of sad sacks that needed to be hog-tied and thrown onto a wagon before, so I knew there was no escaping my fate.
We walked and walked and walked, until my exhausted body fell to the ground when we camped that night. The sky was clear, and the largest moon Porta shone brightly.
I wonder... Do the gods even care that my life as I know it is over?
Travis
Mattius and I escaped the rapidly filling cafeteria with our precious cargo of sandwiches, then stood at one of the outdoor tables between the main walkway and green space, hoping to catch Drozuk or someone else before our mission briefing.
Well, Arc was looking, I was busy trying to console Mattius while he routinely kept rechecking the squad assignments between bites of sandwich, the dread on his face growing more and more pronounced as it refused to change who he was going to be in a squad with. From what I've been able to gather, Mattius took the advice I relayed from Arc to heart and hasn't done anything stupid. However, he hasn't done anything bold either. The only communication between each other so far have been short conversations during specialized weapons training a couple of times per week, meaning that they've barely gotten past basic introductions at this point.
"Isn't this your chance to get to know her better?" I cautiously asked, "You'll be in the same squad, so you'll have plenty of opportunities to talk."
Mattius didn't bother to finish his last bite of sandwich, opting instead to mope about, "Please, like she'll give me the time of day when there's a pair of twins to flirt with."
I sighed in response to my friend's pessimism, and to Arc hinting with his snickering that he knew more than he was willing to divulge. I didn't even know how to empathize with Mattius' situation. Here he was with a golden opportunity, but all he could do was sulk. Exchanging letters with Caldia has been nice, but it couldn't hold a candle to how wonderful it was to spend the day with her.
Well... it was, until our... sort-of-date got hijacked.
"Hey! Professor Quinsandoral is approaching with an elven Ice Mage. How much do you want to bet that's his son?"
Welcoming the interruption, I perked my head up in time to see my Wind Spells professor walking along the main path with a young elf who, despite some obvious attempts to look different, was clearly his son. Unlike his dad who normally wore traditional high elf robes of varying colors and only carried a wand for spellcasting assistance, he was wearing the same uniform I was. Albeit his arming jacket was blue instead of forest-green, and had an additional leather bandolier across his chest filled with throwing knives that must have also acted as a mount for the oddly shaped shield on his back.
The faces were what truly confirmed they were father and son, not just because they had nearly identical sharp and angular faces topped with platinum blonde hair, but because they both had matching looks of irritation furrowing their brows. The younger also had a dozen silver piercings to differentiate him, the most notable ones being a spike in each eyebrow, a pair of studs in his nose, and two more in his pointed ears. Something I haven't once seen in any of the other elven students, although I'll be the first to admit I've barely interacted with the non-humans on campus.
Raising my hand in greeting, I shouted out to Professor Quinsandoral, who to my delight, smiled upon seeing Mattius and I by the outdoor bar table. His son, however, visibly sighed and dragged his feet as they moved towards us.
"Young Master Mattius, Travis," Quinsandoral greeted us with a gleeful tone, "I was hoping to meet you before my son's mission briefing." He gestured to his scowling child, "This is Vesril, future Lord of Vörðuhálsmýrdalsjökull, or as you may know it by it's poorly translated name, Glacier-cut Edge."
Raucous laughter violently erupted from Arc in my ears so loud that I instinctively brought both hands up to my ears and winced in pain. My obnoxious sword at least had the decency to quiet down, but a hand on my pauldron and worried look from Mattius made it obvious that I needed to think of an excuse fast.
"You okay?"
"Yeah..." I massaged the sides of my head and back of neck to stall, "just... uh, tweaked my neck is all..." I made a show of relaxing my shoulders to help sell the lie, then secretly vowed to test Arc's heat resistance at the spell range later tonight.
Vesril watched our interaction with his violet-colored eyes, completely cold and expressionless throughout, then in a sudden shift, looked over my shoulder and smirked, "That's a gnarly looking axe."
Professor Quinsandoral tensed up, then spoke through clenched teeth, "Yes, Travis does have an eccentric choice of weaponry..."
Vesril huffed, "Figures, it's perfectly fine for your pet human to wield a unique weapon, but if I want to---"
"Travis isn't an elf!" Quinsandoral barked. "And he doesn't have the legacy of his forebears to uphold."
Vesril rolled his eyes, "Monsters haven't attacked the mountain pass in over six eras, that's hardly a legacy. Why do I need to use the same weapon my great-great-something wielded while cowering behind a wall and never using the thing?"
My professor grabbed his son by the shoulder in a tight grip and cut into him with his glare, "You are on the narrowest of branches boy. Your mother still sees you as a child, and your uncle may only be indifferent as of now, but I have final say on whether you can attend this academy. And let me tell you boy, self-expression isn't looked upon kindly at Krisneirous University. They'll rip out those piercings, burn away your tattoos, and snap that ridiculous thing you call a weapon in half before you take a second step on school grounds."
The tension in the air was near to boiling as the two stared each other down in defiance. Mattius looked just as scared as I was to say anything, knowing that this kettle was only a single bump away from exploding.
Ironically, it was a student bumping into Professor Quinsandoral that broke the tension as they rushed by in a hurry, barely able to spurt out an apology. The father and son broke off their staring contest, and in unison with matching faces, cringed upon realizing they just had a very public argument.
Mattius, showing way more initiative than me, pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, "We should probably get to our meeting." He forced a smile towards Vesril, "Want to join us?"
Vesril shrugged his shoulders while rolling back his eyes, "Sure, I'm heading there anyways."
Arc
As the Ethics & Law building came into range, I decided to scout ahead with my focus and see if I could eavesdrop on anyone coming to the mission briefing or at least figure out where Drozuk was. I found him already in the room, seated with his arms crossed, and looking especially grumpy.
Hmm... I'm guessing he's not too thrilled about getting teamed up with Travis, a princess, and an edge lord.
I watched for a few seconds, but after determining that no one in the room was saying anything of substance, I flung my focus over Travis as he entered the building and back outside to watch Princess Seleyna approaching with Sir Asher and another unknown knight. To my surprise, she looked just as grouchy, completely ignoring the unknown knight behind her as they quietly whispered to Asher.
"So, what's got her kindling snapping in the hearth?"
Asher let out a tired sigh, "She's convinced that I'm the one who put her on a team with Travis and Reidar, and flat out refuses to believe I didn't submit anything."
The unknown knight raised her eyebrow, "You didn't? I'm surprised, even I requested a roster change."
Asher chuckled as they approached the building, "Didn't have to, someone already did." He then spoke louder to ensure Princess Seleyna could hear as well, "Honestly, she's being a bit of a hypocrite, given that she submitted a request of her own."
Seleyna ignored the gossip as she stormed in and made her way to the meeting room. By this time, Travis had already sat down in the front row between Vesril and Drozuk, and Mattius took a seat in the second row next to the Creeksmith twins Thaddeus and Zaccheus, so when Seleyna saw Travis' smiling face and friendly wave at her upon entry, she noticeably relaxed and put on a royal smile of her own.
Vesril nodded to the princess as she took the seat next to him, "Princess Seleyna."
"Young Lord Vesril, it's been a while... last year's Spring Gala?"
"Sounds about right." He gestured to Travis, "Your parents pay off the general to put you on the same team with him too?"
Seleyna stifled a laugh, "Not sure, no one's admitted to it yet, but it's safe to assume. That shadow show about us does need a sequel after all." She leaned forward to get a better look at the surly orc, "Drozuk, it was quite the surprise to see that your father was elected Jarl of Coldwater Spring Fortress. Has he been able to settle into his new role?"
"Don't know," Drozuk growled, "he hasn't told me a thing..."
Jarl? Huh... I'm surprised Drozuk never spoke about that, unless... ah, I'm guessing Travis isn't the only one with a dad keeping secrets from them.
The door opened to permit a dozen people in Logistic Corps uniforms, Mattius' crush Treblana, and a tall burly half-orc wearing half-plate. He stepped up to the unknown knight who walked in with Seleyna and reached to shake her hand.
"Captain Adaline, pleasure to finally meet you."
The Royal Knight took the offered hand, "Same as well, Captain Aguk, it's nice to have a face and voice to put to your correspondences."
My focus drifted back towards Mattius, who looked just as nervous as ever whenever he tried talking to Treblana, but at least managed to hide it well and produce a semi-stoic nod of acknowledgement when she took the seat next to him.
"Looks like I'll get to see you fight up close now." Treblana spoke cautiously.
Mattius smiled, "Same here, umm... I'll be counting on you to help overwhelm the opponent, since... you're much more talented at Earth Magic than me. I don't even have the needed mana to mimic the [Earth Wall Slide] you used a couple of weeks ago to shove that muledeer into the arena wall."
"Really? I think you're the talented one. Even from the stands I can tell every repeated structure you build is identical in dimensions and spaced out the same distance."
As usual, their conversation was cut short, right as they were about to build momentum, when Brigadier General Jonas called the meeting to order.
"This looks to be everyone, so let's begin." The general reached to pick up a box in front of him, "Your mission will be twofold; monster eradication in the Coldwater Spring Fortress' territory, and diplomatic relations with the fortresses you'll be harboring at during your journey." He opened the box to pull out a very familiar looking baseball sized sphere infused heavily with Order Mana and a Wind Mana gem embedded in its core. "This is a Master Message Stone. Unlike the private ones some of you carry or the inscriptions in your helmets, this does not vibrate or create sound. Its construction does have a unique advantage though..."
General Jonas grinned madly as he let the orb roll off his hand and crash onto the stone floor with a loud bang, causing all the students to flinch. He softly chuckled as he reached to pick the extremely valuable artifice back up, "It can maintain its paired frequency for a minimum of twelve years, despite how roughly its treated. Princess Seleyna will be presenting one of these to each fortress you visit, partially to build positive public relations with the populace outside of the capital, but also as part of a test run for the Queen's proposed long-range communication improvements."
Twelve years! Holy gods and God, I know the gift Travis received from the queen was expensive but... wow! The inscriptions in Travis' helmet require daily resynchronizations for the private and squad channels to ensure they don't randomly cut out, the battalion channel needs a weekly reset (assuming normal amount of chatter), and the emergency channel can maybe last two months if he doesn't take a blow to the head to rattle the inscription.
Travis must have had the same thought since I caught him stiffening up and gently placing his hand over the valuables pouch on his belt.
The general continued with the mission brief, starting with introductions to the battalion's leadership, "Captain of Squad 1, Royal Knight Adaline will have general command of the battalion's diplomatic and over all mission, Spartan Captain Aguk of Squad 2 will be acting lead for combat operations, and Raven Four will provide scouting and logistics security with their squad." He paused to gesture to the back row of people wearing the double-breasted jackets of the Logistics Corps, "Staff Sergeant Julien and his team, along with six horses, will manage supplies, field maintenance, and the camp. Keep in mind that they will be outnumbered three to one, so you will be expected to assist when needed."
I continued to listen in on the dry presentation, taking notes so Travis could consult me if needed, but I did take time to enjoy watching the corpsmen and mages struggle to stay awake as the general droned on and on. Honestly, two hours to basically state that everyone will take a gun boat down and up the rivers, stopping occasionally to overnight at some of the more prominent riverside fortresses on the way, then coordinating with the Jarl of Coldwater Spring Fortress to kill as many monsters as possible after arrival seemed like overkill, but maybe that's just because all Travis really needs to do is whatever his squad captains tell him to do.
Eventually, the torture session... err, I mean meeting... ended, and Travis was preparing to leave with his friends for a late lunch when one of the logistics corpsmen called out to him.
"Sir Travis, can you spare a moment of your time."
Travis whirled around to face the approaching man and nervous teenager accompanying him, "Uh... sure, what do you need sergeant?"
He saluted Travis, then reached into his satchel, "This morning, during our preparations, we discovered to our dismay that one of the horses assigned to our mission will not be fully recovered in time from an injury to be cleared for deployment. As a result, we need a last-minute replacement, and Private Tomas has kindly informed me that your horse, 5751054, enlisted last night."
Heh, he almost makes it sound like Travis' nameless horse enlisted on his own.
Travis pondered the request, "Doesn't he need training?"
The Staff Sergeant glanced towards the private, until the social pressure forced Tomas to speak, "Sir! 5751054 is already trained to ride, haul, and self-navigate. He will not be required to know more for this mission given the limited need for equine support."
Travis shrugged, "Well, if he's willing... then I guess I am too."
Sergeant Julien smiled, then handed Travis a document, "Just need your final approval."
Travis signed the sheet, handed it back, then addressed the private, "Will you be in charge of the horses?"
The corpsman saluted, "Yes sir, I'm Private Tomas, my main duty will be to act as stablemaster and coachman."
Travis nodded, then spoke in a stern voice, "5751054 is precious to me. My parents saved up for two years to purchase him for my eighteenth birthday, and still had to do so on credit from my village's horse breeder. If something were to happen to him..."
Tomas gulped, "Understood sir, I will ensure he's properly cared for."
Super serious Travis gave another nod, but broke character instantly after taking two steps away, "Oh, wait! When does he need to report in? I was going to take him to run a few errands this afternoon and might need to make a run to get some last-minute supplies tomorrow."
Staff Sergeant Julien smirked, "As long as he's in his stable when you drop off your personal supply crate tomorrow night, you should be fine."
Travis exhaled a sigh of relief, noticed that his friends had already left for lunch proper, then rushed out the door to go catch up.
Julien gave Tomas a firm slap on the back, "See, I told you he'd be amenable. Most mages are too preoccupied to fuss over small details, so the trick is to make it seem like you're doing them a favor, instead of trying to save your own ass."
Tomas grumbled, "I still can't believe 5640161 did something so stupid."
"Meh, it's probably for the best. You know how primes can be when told to pull carts in a team."
"I know, but still... prancing backwards down the exit ramp?"
The Staff Sergeant could only shrug their shoulders in reply.
Travis
"Your left one's drifting again."
I paused the warmup routine Reidar taught me to check over my [Water Bracer] enchantment and scowled. This spell was proving much more difficult to maintain than [Earth Cleat] or the [Message] enchantment I created on my helmet's dust filter.
It seemed so simple when I got the spell at first too. Basically, just a trio of condensing arrays on the inside of my forearm to collect Water, and six evenly spaced lines at 60-degrees on my outer vambrace to create a thin layer of fast-moving water capable of deflecting small objects down and away from my face. I didn't even stumble much on the diagram's mentioned tricky part of getting the Water to jump over the gaps between my forearm plates, just having difficulty keeping the parallel lines evenly spaced and at the correct angle.
"Hmm... it's a lot harder to keep my formation consistent without a flat surface, and I don't have anything to act as guidelines..." Trying to puzzle out a solution, I thought back to the serving pots Ansel's family used. They were rounded as well but had decorative indentations and ridges to help with spacing and line shape, similar to how I could use my boot treads as a reference for forming [Earth Cleat].
"Ah, I think I understand now why the inscriptions senior students use are so different from the one on Lancel's sword and other knight weapons. When I got a good look at that shield Vesril carries, I noticed it had a lot of directionless Water inscription lines running along it. I'm guessing any enchantment he casts will use the inscription as a skeleton to keep it from falling apart in combat."
I nodded along as I cast a cloud of Fire Mana off my palm and tried to squeeze it into as tiny of a ball as possible, allowing some of my frustration to bleed out, "That makes sense. It'd be like using graph paper to write out a formation. I bet it's a lot easier to invert or neutralize the direction of a line too if the core is made up of mana dust or gems."
"Thramreat mentioned that dwarves used to paint spell formations on their bodies, maybe you can do something similar with your bracers?"
"Good idea." I tossed the ball of Fire Mana above my head, reshaped it into a [Fire Orb], then nodded to Arc sticking out of the ground down range, "Okay, I'm ready."
Light and Shadow Mana pools around Arc as he starts playing music, until a wireframe statue of a bull's head emerges from the ground. Slowly, but surely, the rest of the creature appears, starting with a wattle, pair of giant chicken feet, bull's body and hind legs, and a chicken's tailfeathers.
Bullcock, a single element monster, this stable hybrid of a bull and rooster is well known for their aggressive charges, fast swipes with their spurs, and ability to spit Fire from a distance, but mostly for their excellent tasting meat and valuable leather.
I froze for a moment, eyes locked onto its claws... this is the monster that nearly killed my dad...
Anger floods my body with battle lust, and I nearly forget to dodge when it starts rushing towards me, not even leaving a full foot between us. It digs one of its oversized claws into the ground after it misses me, then swings the rest of its body around in a 180 to quickly about face. I raise my hand to cast [Fire Bolt], but a horn screeches loudly in my ear, disrupting my concentration.
"You want friendly fire? Because that's how you get friendly fire."
I swear as the bullcock makes another charge. Idiot! You can only launch spells downrange! I'll get my boat axed if I damage the building or accidentally lob a spell into another person's private spell range.
The bullcock angles his charge, so I can't safely launch a spell after dodging again, but that doesn't stop it from doing so. The wattle underneath its chin swells up, and a trio of [Light Bolts] fly towards me after the bullcock opens its mouth. I bring up my forearms to block, and manage to deflect the first projectile, but the second and third harmlessly splash against my chest, prompting Arc to start taunting me.
"Oh, c'mon! I've seen children with better reflexes than that."
Clenching my teeth, I try to block out all outside distractions, and focus solely on the task at hand. Using [Earth Cleat] to give my side-steps an extra burst of speed on top of my mana reinforced strides, [Water Bracer] to allow me to forgo a shield and deflect the spit attacks, and at every opportunity, I launch as many Bolt spells as I can downrange.
Like usual, Arc keeps increasing the difficulty, first by making the bullcock move slightly faster, then having it extend a claw to try and swipe at me during its charge, and finally varying the number of Bolts he spits back at me. We keep fighting, long past the point where the monster or I would have died, only allowing short pauses for me to fix my bracer enchantments, but without any warning or fanfare, Arc abruptly stopped the music and dispersed his controlled mana.
Confused as to what happened, I darted my head around, until I spotted Hector entering through the door.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you again."
I released the breath I was holding in, then reached up to take off my helmet and shake away the sweat from my face, "It's alright, just... wasn't expecting company is all. You're the first person to come visit me here."
The bearded Packer made a nervous chuckle as he looked back towards the door, "Yeah, I think the only reason the rangemaster let me pass was because I'm your drill instructor."
My eyes perked up after finally noticing what was on his back, "You got your poleaxe made!"
Hector grinned as he handed it to me for inspection, "Yep, did the final assembly with the polearms club this afternoon, and even demonstrated what I've been teaching you."
I groaned with guilt after taking his weapon. I definitely could have made time this afternoon to visit the club, it's not like I didn't know when they were meeting this week. Looking down despondently, I began to inspect Hector's re-creation of my weapon, seeing quite a few differences before even looking with my mana sight.
Overall, the material quality and mana density was much lower, using the same mid-grade dwarven steel my armor was made of and ironwood, but it did have some good quality leather wrapping around the middle of the shaft and part way up the langets.
"What's with the leather?"
"That's what I'm using right now as a workaround to improve my attunement connection to the weapon heads. Tristan and Percy are heading up north for their Fall Expeditions, so they promised to try and win an elmek horn or something similar to replace the shaft with."
I nodded along, checking over the structural build to see if there were any errors, "Speaking of, I'm surprised you're not at the Hopkins' estate. Aren't you on leave until classes start again now?"
Hector scratched the back of his head, "I... uh... didn't have any brothers growing up, so... those three can get a bit too... rowdy for me."
"Ha, I can relate, I'm an only child." I finished my inspection, not finding any obvious flaws in the build, "Alright if I attune to it?"
"Go ahead."
The mana inside the poleaxe ramped up to match mine in only a fraction of the time it took me to sync with mine, and unsurprisingly, I was able to maintain the attunement when I tried using mana reinforcement. It did feel a little strange however, like I was squeezing my body through a narrow gap in the fence each time, so I must have been near my limit for how large and mana dense an object can be for me to attune with.
Hector watched me test out his new toy, but cocked his head when he noticed Arc planted in the dirt near the back wall, "What's your sword doing down there?"
"Oh, umm..." I turned towards my best friend and had a spark of inspiration, "Since it's indestructible, I like to use it for target practice."
Target practice? What do you---
Arc's words cut-off right as I hit his blade with a [Fire Bolt].
"Ouch! That actually hurt a little..."
Hector barked a few laughs as he placed a hand on my pauldron, then suddenly wrapped his fingers around the edges to dig painfully into my deltoid, "Initiate, when in uniform, you are expected to keep your sword sheathed and on your person when not in use. I strongly advise you to do so in the future."
I gulped, "Yes sir."
The pain stopped, replacing it with an affectionate pat as he gave me a sly grin, "Now, when you say indestructible, do you really mean indestructible? Because I've heard the stories and rumors about these blades, but never quite believed them."
Arc began to moan. "Ugh, I knew this was going to happen eventually."
Arc
Snowsday, the 32^{nd^} of Eighthmonth
Travis looked down at his directions, then back up to the intersection in the artificer burrow and sighed.
"It just says left, not left-left or first left?"
My bestest buddy in this whole world shook their head and frowned. We'd come up to another intersection, but instead of the usual four-way cross, the left side hallway entrances were spaced 60-degrees apart.
"Well, logic would assume they mean the first left..."
"Yeah, but that one is newly constructed. There's no scuff marks or scratches on the walls, unlike the second one on the left."
I mentally groaned. That does it, I'm putting a pin in the auto-translator upgrade on my soul's patch and am going to implement a mapmaking feature. Not like Travis really needs the translator anyways, humans all speak the same language, despite originally being four distinct cultures, and common is used as the international trade language between the three kingdoms.
I still don't get how that's possible. I mean, nowadays you have the military shuffling soldiers all over the kingdom and congregating every year for the Spring Flood to help spread and reinforce the language, but according to Travis' history books, humans all spoke the same language before the four tribes united. Maybe the alphabet being phonetic helps prevent regional dialects from forming? These guys don't even have a word for homophone. Although, I don't get how that's possible either... elves are the ones who invented paper, humans had to use good old-fashioned leather scrolls before Oskar made contact.
"Arc?"
"Oh, sorry, got lost in my head. Uh... just pick a direction, if it's not right, I can replay my memory and help you backtrack."
Travis nodded, then took the first left, walking down the tunnel for a full minute before a couple of familiar looking dwarves, plus a human and an elf, came into view.
Thramreat was pacing in full armor with an anime-sized war-pick on their back, glaring occasionally at what I now recognized was the entrance to Durinn's workshop as the elf held her ear up to the tumbler lock. The beardless dwarf kept mumbling, eventually letting their thoughts be heard. "I still don't feel comfortable doing this..."
Orebeck, also decked out in full plate, but with an extra bandolier of glass vials across their chest and a heavily modified crossbow on their back, was looking completely fed up, "Well... I didn't feel comfortable making an aphrodisiac so you could seal the nest with my best friend. So, we're all just going to have to pound sand for a while."
The brawny knight (who might have been a goliath, I couldn't tell for sure), looked down at the two dwarves with a completely baffled expression, then leaned towards the elf to whisper, "Umm... I thought he just mixed up a thing of beard oil?"
The elf stopped her lockpicking attempt to lightly pound her head against the door and sigh, "Yes, they did. But dwarves... work differently when it comes to mating." She snapped her head towards Travis as he approached and hissed at the party, "Quiet! Someone's approaching."
Travis waved to the group, blissfully unaware of who they were at first until Thramreat began to panic.
"Travis! Umm... it's not what it looks like!"
Orebeck and the bow wielding elf both facepalmed, unlike the knight who grinned and waved back, "Hi Travis! Are you coming back to the estate for the training camp?"
"Uh... no, I'm going on a Fall Expedition... Do I know you?" Travis gave the Darius-sized knight a second glance.
The knight padded their chest, "Oh, sorry, don't have my tabard on. Thramreat said it would get dirty." He extended a cheerful hand forward, "I'm Knight Lieutenant Evan Raycraft. You have a really pretty singing voice."
Travis shook the offered hand, "Thank you." He turned to look at Thramreat, but abruptly stopped part way to look at the door, "Oh, this is Durinn's workshop... Wait, why are you guys here?"
Thramreat, still looking as guilty as a rat in a grain bin, quickly spoke first, "Just passing through. That's all."
Orebeck rolled their eyes at the dwarf's pitiful attempt to lie, "We're trying to break-in to Durinn's workshop. I know where they keep their hidden files, so we can use them to help prepare while we ride out to the nesting grounds."
Travis still looked confused, "Umm... why would you need that? Also, why are you all fully decked out and armed to the teeth?"
"Always smart to use protection when approaching a bearded's nest." Thramreat replied, then grumbled, "And as for the former... Durinn is apparently a sinner in the eyes of the bearded."
Orebeck finally lost their temper, and unloaded on the beardless, "Oh, would you quit being such a self-righteous beaver you orthodox piece of slag! Every bearded does it. It's perfectly natural."
"Enough!" The elf shouted, forcing the argument to stop. She glared at each dwarf to ensure their silence, let out a huff of frustration, then smiled at Travis, "Apologies, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Watcher Ariawyn Famaris. Was there a reason you came to visit Durinn's workshop?"
"Oh, umm... actually, I was looking for Thramreat." Travis turned towards the dwarf, "I've been having troubles with a Water enchantment for my bracers and was wondering if dwarves still used monster paste to help assist with their spellcraft."
Orebeck let out a chuckle as they dug through one of their pouches to toss something dense with Water Mana towards Travis, "Here, catch. Monster paste will just wash away after a few minutes. We use mana-infused wax nowadays for Water Enchantments. Just heat it up a bit to apply, but be careful not to let it melt off in combat, oh... and make sure you wipe your armor clean every night. It'll corrode the rust protection if you don't."
"Thanks," Travis gave a nervous wave goodbye, "umm... tell Durinn I said hi."
Travis
A pair of golden eyes stared up at me, catching the sunlight from the patio door in my dorm's living room just right to make them look like they were glowing. I reached forward to tickle the baby's tummy and started grinning like a madman when Boris started to giggle and smile back.
"Ugh, I can feel my soul getting stretchmarks just from looking at the cute little guy."
I leaned back to relax in my chair, enjoying the sight of Gramps completely taking over not just the packing of my crate, but Drozuk's too.
"Waterproof cards, dice set, blank notebooks, charcoal sticks, barbecue sauce, sandals..."
Caldia, to my surprise, came with her dad, but she was busy designing the family crest that Drozuk wanted to submit for reservation before leaving tomorrow and decorating our crates so they'd be easy to identify.
Oh, and Barry was here too. He brought up a crate of "essentials" that every soldier needs, including a pair of paperback "adventure novels" that he told me not to worry about if they get ruined or misplaced. I think my face was still red from blushing when he snuck those into the bottom of my crate.
Everything was just so... peaceful. With Gramps taking charge, I had absolutely nothing to do at the moment (other than anger Caldia by getting to hold the baby). The care package I spent my afternoon assembling yesterday was already sealed and labeled to ship to Aelder Creek, the aelderwood scraps I received from Father Viburnum were secured in my lockbox, and Gramps already agreed to store it in the Hopkins' vault while I'm away.
My respite eventually ended though. Gramps finished off the checklist that he brought, and closed the lid on Drozuk's crate, but stopped before doing the same for mine.
"Drozuk, would you mind taking the baby for a moment?"
Not sure what was going on, I stood up so I could approach my roommate, and smiled as he went as stiff as a statue when I handed Boris to him. I then turned back to see that Darius was holding a blanket in his hands.
"Travis, if you don't mind, there's an old Packer tradition that my family would like to conduct with you, given how you're technically a former ward of our house. It's a very old one that dates back long before the kingdom was founded and is observed whenever a young man comes of age. It originally started as the final parting gift of a mother to her son before he went to become a spartan, a reminder of which clans he and his ancestors were descendant of, but over time, as our values changed, so has this tradition."
I nodded my head, not even considering the possibility of saying no, especially with how emotional he and Barry were becoming.
Darius unfurled the blanket, allowing me to see the majestic work of art it was. It was a deep black, but the fabric shimmered with a swirling mix of violet, silver, pink, and blue light. The moons and stars were stitched into it, arranged into the constellations of the Elemental Eight greater monsters. Thunderhawk, the screeching death. Thunderhoof, the raging bull. Sunbeaver, the mountain shaper. Copperdillo, the invulnerable force. Diamondback, the walking fortress. Bushtail, the forest tender. Dark Drake, the unexpected disaster. And Icefang, the sun eater.
"In the Southern Plains, it's easy to get lost after fighting countless battles in the seemingly endless expanse of grass and gentle hills. Should you ever find yourself alone and in need of comfort, let the stars guide you, and eventually you'll find your way home."
I gazed up at Gramp's blubbering face through my own welling tears and reached forward to receive one of his legendary hugs.
"It's beautiful. Thank you so much."