#8:54 PM 9/8/24

[moron-hassaikai-and-more]

Setsuno: life is fun because sometimes you can get a bagel but there are also The Horrors

#*inhales deeply. trying to suppress another hyperfixation on a character with less than 10 minutes of screen time* #mha incorrect quotes #mha #incorrect bnha quotes #bnha incorrect quotes #toya setsuno #setsuno mha #mha toya #8:54 PM 9/8/24

[chaoticace2005]

Rules for the Hazbin Hotel, authored by Vaggie:

1. No drugs.

2. No fights.

3. No pranks.

4. No problematic language.

5. No murder (OR TERRITORIAL GENOCIDE WHAT THE FUCK ANGEL)

6. No smuggling in of drugs. Not by sticking them up your ass. Or by hiding them in a pizza box. Or by slingshotting them to the roof. Or getting someone else to. Not at all.

7. No sexual rendezvous with outsiders in the hotel. No SHOWING sexual rendezvous with strangers to people of the hotel either.

8. Make sure the pig/future pets stay in the patron’s room. (This includes eggs!!)

9. No singing Limit singing to once twice per day

10. Stop flirting with the bartender Angel

11. Don’t call Husk “Husker” unless he allows it.

12. No harassing the staff at all. This includes asking who tops.

13. Don’t suggest anything sexual/romantic to Alastor unless you want your head cut off.

14. NO CUTTING OFF PEOPLE’S HEADS

15. NO EATING PEOPLE

16. NO MAKING CHARLIE CRY.

17. Don’t ask me to put my spear “inside you” Angel, what the fuck?

18. Don’t turn the interior of the hotel into a swamp?! Keep it contained in your room if you must!

19. No stabbing staff or residents. No matter how much they look like bugs! (OR IF THEYRE NAME IS ANGEL)

20. Don’t try and stab bugs if they’re within 10 feet of another demon.

21. Don’t call anyone a “bitch” OR TALK ABOUT HOW MY NAME SOUNDS LIKE “VAGINA”

22. Limit Niffty’s access to sharp objects.

23. NO DEALS ALASTOR

24. No drinking. Limit drinking at bar.

25. No mentioning the Stock Market Crash of 1929. For everyone’s benefit.

26. Don’t blow a hole in the wall.

27. Try to keep roast battles OUTSIDE the hotel. (Or stop picking fights?? Please Alastor I swear to God…)

28. No spying on the hotel for outside sources or putting technology that can be used against us.

29. No evil laughing in the middle of the night, what the fuck Alastor?

30. No building weapons/war machines.

31. No eggs! (Fine the eggs can stay.)

32. Someone please keep an eye on Niffty. (And the eggs.)

33. Stop touching people ANGEL.

34. Don’t make other people storm off HUSK.

35. Respect boundaries.

36a. If Angel looks like he’s about to pass out/cry don’t comment. Let him do his thing.

36b. Don’t try to talk to Angel if he’s on the phone with Valentino. Honestly don’t even mention his phone calls with Valentino.

37. Please don’t call Lucifer “Daddy”

38. Don’t turn into a 20 foot tall demon-eating creature unless absolutely necessary.

39. Don’t cause angry loan sharks to show up at the front door.

40. NO EXPLOSIONS!

41. Rule #2, “No fights” can be broken if the person you’re fighting is Valentino. Or Adam.

42. Don’t lie to your girlfriend or hide the fact you were secretly an angel.

43. DONT TALK ABOUT PEOPLE’S TITS (or lack of)

44. KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING A BEDROOM ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE’S HAVING MAKEUP SEX

45. Don’t give people makeovers while they’re sleeping, ANGEL!

46. Don’t pretend to eat someone’s pet, ALASTOR

47. Don’t die.

48. I never want to hear the words “cum-plete” again.

49. STOP HAVING FIGHTS ACROSS THE BUILDING LUCIFER AND ALASTOR!!

50. If Charlie is passed out on the couch LET HER SLEEP

51. No making bombs in the hotel Cherri!

52. Stop breaking rules and then saying it’s “FOR SIR PENTIOUS!”

53. Angel don’t try to shoot someone if they break spaghetti.

54. Don’t break spaghetti. Or “ruin” Italian food. Whatever the fuck that means. This apparently includes pineapple on pizza.

55. Don’t mention Valentino unless Angel brings him up first.

56. Don’t comment on Angel and Husk’s flirting.

57. Only call Angel “Anthony” if things are serious (or if you’re Husk)

58. Don’t use any of the nicknames Husk and Angel use for each other. This includes but is not limited to: “Whiskers”, “Legs”, “Kitty”, “Webs”, “Tony”, “Love”, and “Baby.”

59. It’s better not to question whatever facts Husk gives about his past.

60. Family dinners at 6 pm unless you can’t make it due to prior obligation. Game nights after on Sundays.

61. No hunting people for sport and NO KNIFE MONOPOLY.

62. Don’t attach knives to a roomba so you can have a “boyfriend” Niffty.

63. Keep Niffty away from Roombas.

64. Alastor, treat people with decency. Really, it’s not that hard.

65. No making giant ducks that breathe fire to chase people around the hotel just because they call you short.

66. Therapy. Everyone.

67. DONT HAVE SEX ON THE BAR WHAT THE FUCK GUYS?!

68. If Valentino enters the property you have permission to stab him.

69. “Hell is forever” is bullshit. You guys aren’t. You can do this.

#stupid hazbin hotel lists #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel memes #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #vaggie #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #sir pentious #cherri bomb #niffty #hazbin hotel crack #chaggie #huskerdust #angelhusk

[akanemnon]

TWIN RUNES MASTERPOST

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 -15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 21-1 - 21-2 - 21-3 - 22 - 23 -24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 36-1 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40 - 41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48 - 49 - 50 - 51 - 52 - 53 - 54 - 55 - 56 - 57 - 58 -

59 - 60 - 61

To be continued...

TWIN RUNES MINI COMICS

Glasses - Fallen down - First steps - Press [C] - Frisk Dance - But nobody came - Whatstheirface - An acquired taste - Eye opening - Smalltalk - Connection issues

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TWIN RUNES - FAQ

What exactly is this AU about? Twin Runes is essentially a comedic crossover AU between the universes of Deltarune and Undertale. No fancy nicnacs. Just the characters being their chaotic selves. But there might be some darkness lurking up ahead...

When is the next comic? The comic updates most Sundays at 6:30 PM Central European Time.

Why is this AU called Twin Runes? The name is more or less a play on the typical naming format of most AU's by featuring the "Runes" part. There are no literal Twin Runes. The whole name is more of a stand in for Undertale and Deltarune as parallel worlds. Hence the "Twin" part.

When does Twin Runes take place? This AU takes place between a hypothetical Chapter 3 and Chapter 4 of Deltarune. On the Undertale side of things, it takes place post neutral route just as Frisk was about to deliver Undyne's letter to Alphys.

Is the player a thing in this AU? The player lost control over both human children as soon as Frisk entered the world of Deltarune.

When Chapter 3 and 4 are released, will it affect the story? Any chapters after Chapter 3 won't affect the story in the grand scheme of things. If possible, I might make a reference to Chapter 3, but all in all Twin Runes created a new timeline so to speak.

What's up with Kris' and Frisk's hair? The red bits of their hair is more or less a representation of their souls. That in turn is also why Chara doesn't have that feature. They are soulless. It's a stylistic choice.

What's that thing on Kris' chest? It's a scar they got from tearing out their soul.

And why do they have weird lines all over their body? Both Kris and Frisk's anatomy resemble that of ball-jointed dolls. They appear just as markings across their bodies. Think of them as elaborate birthmarks. Kris and Frisk are still made of flesh and blood, but are in fact hypermobile. The reason as to why they do is still a little secret :) People here like to refer to these markings as "puppet limbs". You can get a better look at them and the scar in this artwork

Why does Kris have braces? This is why:

Why is Dark World Frisk green? Frisk changes their main sweater colors with Kris when they enter the Dark World.

Can other ghosts see Chara? (pre Darkner transformation) No, only Frisk and Kris are able to see Chara.

IS KRIS NOW FRISK'S COUNTERPART OR CHARA'S???? :)

So, was Chara in the locket all along? No, Chara possessed the locket to become a Darkner.

Where are Jevil and Spamton? Are they in Castle Town? The Fun Gang have already fought these two in the previous chapters and added them into their inventory. Outside of that little dream sequence, neither will be making an appearance.

Is anyone from Undertale Yellow gonna make an apperance? Outside of a tiny cameo from Clover (that has no greater bearing on the story) no one from Undertale Yellow is going to make an appearance.

Is (insert character here) gonna go to the Dark World/underground? With the way the story is going to play out, only the main group will be heading to this new Dark World. The rest of the story will be taking place there.

Is the Group Project miniseries canon to Twin Runes? It was made before Twin Runes was conceived and before I had any idea I would make a series. It is it's own self-contained story. So it is NOT canon to Twin Runes, but You can read it here: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

How did you come up with the idea of Twin Runes? Twin Runes is an offshoot of a separate script I wrote. It's a similar concept but turned on its head. The funny moments in that script made me just continue what now is the start of Twin Runes. I pretty much just wanted to see if I am actually capable of drawing a comic to begin with. So... in a way Twin Runes is my first attempt at a comic ever. If I ever finish Twin Runes, then I know I can tackle turning that mammoth project of a script into a comic too. In the grand scheme of things these two projects are sister series. They have A LOT in common and even share similar plot elements. When Twin Runes is over you will automatically also know certain mysteries of The Other Script.

What is The Other Script? As of this moment I call The Other Script: "Lost in the In-Between". At its core it's an inverse of Twin Runes. I.e. Kris falling into the underground and being aided by Frisk on their quest to return home. The story and jokes are a considerably more grounded than in Twin Runes and so are the characters. Though they do have their moments from time to time. The overall mood of that script is a lot darker in nature and it's a 200+ page passion project of mine.

Am I allowed to make fanart? ABSOLUTELY! You are very welcome to make fanart if you feel like it. Please let me know if you do by tagging me, so I can share it with everyone to see so that you get the appreciation you deserve :)

Can I use the funny faces you draw for memes or for private stuff with friends? That's what they're here for :)

Is there x ship in this comic? The focus of the story is not on shipping. If it's in the game it will very likely be mentioned or brought up, but that's about it.

What pronouns do you go with for the human children? I try to stick as close as possible to the games so I use THEY/THEM FOR ALL OF THEM WITHOUT ANY EXCEPTIONS.

______________________________________________________________

ABOUT ASKS

Asks will open for 24 hours after a new comic has been released. Your questions will then be answered over the course of the week.

Try not to submit multiple asks. If necessary, just keep everything in one post.

Keep in mind that I receive AL LOT of asks, so not every question can be answered...

Questions containing spoilers will not be answered on principle. Wouldn't be as fun if the surprise was ruined, right?

Before leaving an ask (mostly for everyone who's new), please make sure to read the FAQ section above. A lot of times your question might have been answered already :>

I love memes and dumb jokes as much as the next guy, but try not to spam

It probably goes without saying, but please stay civil. I want to give everyone the respect they deserve, and naturally like to be treated the same way.

Please be mindful about drawing requests. It is understandable if you're eager to see a certain character drawn in my style, but I do not like to be bombarded by requests. The more it happens, the less likely I am to do it. Be kind and ask nicely.

Don't use other people's posts that I reblogged to ask me questions! It has happened before and I do not wish to see this!

______________________________________________________________

REFERENCE SHEETS

The following are ref sheets of characters that don't have established Dark World forms yet (as of writing this comic). The list will be updated as soon as a new character enters the Dark World. Here you will also find references of characters that might appear as surprise cameos, or maybe even completely new faces...

______________________________________________________________

FULL ART

#twin runes #twin runes masterpost #masterpost #deltarune comic #comic #deltarune au #crossover #undertale #my art #FAQ #frequently asked questions #important #please read #deltarune

[mcytblrsexymen]

YOUR MCYTBLR SEXYMAN BRACKET

ID for the matches and seeds below the cut. We recommend clicking into a full-screen view of the bracket; it will certainly be easier to read if you do! Make your predictions! Rally your troops! The polls will go live at 9 PM EST!

MATCHES

Fruitberries (64) vs MissTrixtin (65) -> winner faces GoodTimesWithScar (1)

Zedaph (33) vs Xephos (96) -> winner faces Jschlatt (32)

VintageBeef (49) vs Fundy (80) -> winner faces Technoblade (16)

Illumina (48) vs Joey Graceffa (81) -> winner faces CaptainSparklez (17)

Skizzleman (57) vs Bekyamon (72) -> winner faces Docm77 (8)

Sneegsnag (40) vs Stressmonster (89) -> winner faces FalseSymmetry (25)

F1nn5ter (56) vs Rythian (73) -> winner faces RentheDog (9)

ConnorEatsPants (41) vs Legundo (88) -> winner faces Oli Orionsound (24)

Eddie the Rabbit (61) vs Sapnap (68) -> winner faces Ethoslab (4)

Clownpierce (36) vs Tubbo (93) -> winner faces AimseyTV (29)

PeteZaHutt (52) vs Papa Caspicito (77) -> winner faces ScottSmajor (13)

GeminiTay (45) vs BigBSt4tz (84) -> winner faces Jimmy Solidarity (20)

CaptainPuffy (60) vs Grumbot (69) -> winner faces MumboJumbo (5)

fWhip (37) vs Karl Jacobs (92) -> winner faces ImpulseSV (28)

xBCrafted (53) vs Katherine Elizabeth (76) -> winner faces Pixlriffs (12)

Charlie Slimecicle (44) vs Herobrine (85) -> winner faces Martyn InTheLittleWood (21)

ZloyXP (63) vs SaintStarling (66) -> winner faces ZombieCleo (2)

BadBoyHalo (34) vs TinFoilChef (95) -> winner faces Eret (31)

Awesamedude (50) vs Reignex (79) -> winner faces PearlescentMoon (15)

HBomb94 (47) vs Helsknight (82) -> winner faces Philza (18)

Branzycraft (58) vs VikingPilot (71) -> winner faces BDoubleO100 (7)

LDShadowLady (39) vs Ashswag (90) -> winner faces Cubfan135 (26)

RTGame (55) vs Welsknight (74) -> winner faces Joel Smallishbeans (10)

Xonorth (42) vs Laurance Zvahl (87) -> winner faces Ranboo (23)

Reddoons (62) vs ItzSubz_ (67) -> winner faces Joe Hills (3)

Dream (35) vs SeaPeeKay (94) -> winner faces Xisuma (30)

OwengeJuiceTV (51) vs HitTheTarget (78) -> winner faces WilburSoot (14)

Evil X (46) vs Shubble (83) -> winner faces TangoTek (19)

Jack Manifold (59) vs Niki Nihachu (70) -> winner faces Grian (6)

FoolishGamers (38) vs Hypnotizd (91) -> winner faces Keralis (27)

JoJoSolos (54) vs Punz (75) -> winner faces MythicalSausage (11)

Iskall85 (43) vs Stampy* (86) -> winner faces Quackity (22)

SEEDS IN ORDER

GoodTimesWithScar

ZombieCleo

Joe Hills

Ethoslab

MumboJumbo

Grian

BDoubleO100

Docm77

Renthedog

Joel SmallishBeans

MythicalSausage

Pixlriffs

ScottSMajor

WilburSoot

PearlescentMoon

Technoblade

CaptainSparklez

Philza

TangoTek

Jimmy Solidarity

Martyn InTheLittleWood

Quackity

Ranboo

Oli Orionsound

FalseSymmetry

Cubfan135

Keralis

ImpulseSV

AimseyTV

Xisuma

Eret

Jschlatt

Zedaph

BadBoyHalo

Dream

Clownpierce

fWhip

FoolishGamers

LDShadowLady

Sneegsnag

ConnorEatsPants

Xornoth

Iskall85

Charlie Slimecicle

GeminiTay

Evil X

Hbomb94

Illumina

VintageBeef

Awesamdude

OwengeJuiceTV

PeteZahHutt

XBcrafted

JoJoSolos

RTGame

F1nn5ter

Skizzleman

Branzycraft

Jack Manifold

CaptainPuffy

Eddie the Rabbit

Reddoons

ZloyXP

Fruitberries

MissTrixtin

SaintStarling

ItzSubz_

Sapnap

Grumbot

Niki Nihachu

VikingPilot

Bekyamon

Rythian

Welsknight

Punz

Katherine Elizabeth

Papa Caspicito

HitTheTarget

Reignex

Fundy

Joey Graceffa

Helsknight

Shubble

BigBSt4tz

Herobrine

Stampy*

Laurance Zvahl

Legundo

Stressmonster

Ashswag

Hypnotizd

Karl Jacobs

Tubbo

SeaPeeKay

TinFoilChef

Xephos

#faq #actual polls #everyone say thank you to the member of our team that is good at graphic design #beloved. did SUCH a good job with the difficult task of 'make a 96-man bracket look good' #this looks so good

[kanmom51]

JM live 1 September 2023 20:54 or 8:54 pm KST

And a little bit about JK's same day live as well.

Part 1

Cr./The creators of the media used in this post.

So we got a live from JK at the start of the day. 12:55 am or 00:55 KST, and from JM in the evening, at 20:55 or 8:54 pm KST.

One opening the days birthday celebrations (or was he?) and the other closing them (in a sense).

Do we have numbers working for the two?

Let's see.

JK's live:

Super easy. Add the 1+2+5+5=13. Then add 0+0+5+5=10.

What?

13/10.

So we get JK's special day with JM's special day. How sweet.

JM's live: Add the 2+0+5+4=11. Then add the 8+5+4=17 and down to a single digit: 1+7=8.

Guess what we get.

8/11

And if you want just a little bit more utilize the date:

1/9/23

1+9+2+3=15

and Ta-dah...

8/11/15

Oh, and if it's numbers we are talking about, and if anyone has any kind of doubt that numbers mean so so much to JM and JK, well here's another little doozy.

JM's watch. Yes, the tens of thousands of dollars worth watch he was wearing during the live.

*Screenshot taken at 3:20 min. mark.

It's a little hard to see, but the time on his watch looks to be around the 3:27 mark.

I want to remind you that JM started his live at 8:54 pm KST. JM has been in SK for months and you would think his watch would be set to KST, no?

Screen shot at 8:24 min.

Screenshot of watch at 32:56 min. mark.

Deduct the live time stamp at every one of those given moments from the time on the watch and you will go back to 3:23/4.

Why, you may ask, am I making such a big deal about this?

Well, my dear friends, this is why:

JK's time of birth tattoo, just to remind you.

JK's time of birth being 3:23-24.

Did JM set his watch to start the live at 3:23-24? JK's birth time?

Wait, but that's not the end of it.

Because JM's watch is also of significance.

Launched in 1997.

What in the effing hell?

Like, if you have another explanation please do explain!!!

Watch not working? Nope, it is, time counting as the live goes on, all from the 3:23 mark.

Coincidence? Again? That his watch happens to be set at JK's birth time, and it also, by chance, being one launched same year JK was born? JK, who's birthday happens to be on that specific day? The person who JM tells us to wish happy birthday and that it's a "wonderful day"?

Please don't continue to say this is all a coincidence. Setting your watch to a time that happens to be JK's birth time, something we have been told in the past, something that JK tattooed on his own body, hence being of significance to him, and most obviously of significance to JM as well.

JM and JK might not be saying the words out loud, but shit, they sure are being as loud as hell about what they are to each other!!!

Ok, so I mentioned in passing JK's live. His almost 9 minute live. His totally out of character shorter than short live, even more so when we are talking about a birthday live. No cake. No candles. No playlist (he told us this was just the music that he left on when he left earlier and it's still playing). No patience, lol. He came, he said hi, he told us he was out with friends he was practicing with (wonder if the reason he came live is to explain who with and why he was out and about...), said he's suffering from insomnia and he has to sleep. Did a card trick...MAGIC... Lol, and ducked. Like even his goodbye was super super short. Now, you could say he had a tight schedule, which he does, and that he has to sleep, which he does. But JK was definitley not on his way to bed when he was doing that live, nor shortly after. He was happy and super hyped, and in NO WAY shape or form about to go to bed at that point.

We need to remember that when they say they have a schedule, it's not a 9 to 5 job. Many a times their days start at noon and later and they keep on working into the early hours of the morning. That is the nature of their work. So having a tight schedule doesn't necessarily mean he has to be up at 7 or 8 am and off to the company or wherever he needs to be in the morning.

You could claim he was excited because it was his birthday, and perhaps you would be right. But if it was the end of his night, then excited what for? Bed? Where he struggles to fall asleep? Nah, I don't think so.

So yeah, I think you know where I'm going with this.

Only that this time we didn't get a photo because there was no one around to buffer.

2019 JM flies back to Seoul to celebrate JK's birthday with him. 2020 JM was with JK on his birthday eve. 2021 we don't know, they didn't tell us, we got a selfie the next day in the safety of the company - not the two together alone at JK's or JM's. 2022 JM was also with JK on his birthday eve. We got to see and hear about it just after JK's birthday, and we had Jhope there as a buffer. Why buffer? So that god forbid they aren't spending his birthday eve alone at his place, especially if it's happening year after year after year, cause you know, people would say it means nothing but at the same time it means everything.

I'm going to say it out loud, and shoot me (not literally) if you wish, but this is a hill I am willing to die on. JK wrote his birthday message and very possibly was not planning to go live that night. Perhaps he did come live because of the photos that came out of him with the fans and the info about him being out and about that night. But for whatever reason JK did go live that night it was always going to be short and sweet. And I do believe that is because he had something else planned which is not going to sleep.

I do believe whatever he had planned was with JM. Period. That's what JK was anticipating, that's what he was excited and happy for, that's why he came for a couple of secs and jolted off.

And for those that are already running to the comments screaming "but JM said he only spoke with JK the day before his birthday to wish him happy birthday" I say: hold your horses, I will most definitley get to it and explain to y'all exactly how JM did not say that by no means. Take a breath, be patient, read on, you'll see why JM said no such thing.

The two of the men having the live the same day.

It kind of felt weird that of all days JM goes live on JK's birthday. Well, maybe weird isn't the right word, but curious is more fitting.

JM wanted to come live for some time now. He says that. But then why, of all days, choose this one?

JM himself tells us he wasn't planning to go live from home that day (while on his way to fetch the mood lamp to show us).

Both lives feel unplanned, rushed and unprepared. There. I said it.

Did either of them even plan to do these lives? Or, perhaps they were a consequence of circumstances? JK wanting to clarify his outing (knowing how this fandom rolls). And JM... why JM? Well, maybe there was actually a birthday live planned? Could that be? One at the company? Us finally getting a Jikook live? Or even just a proper JK live at the company with a cake and all? But JK's schedule ran later than expected maybe? Hence one boyfie coming to the rescue and going live in his stead?

All of the above is questions, queries, possible explanations as to why JM decided to go live from home on JK's birthday, even though he himself tells us this was not the plan. I don't have the answer to these questions, but it definitley does have me wondering.

Will continue this discussion with regards to JM later on in my post.

Let's get to talking about JM's live. Starting by his opening pic.

I have to tell you that first thought I had when seeing the photo was "is that JK?". The frame wasn't right, but the outfit most definitely was, lol.

And guess what?

He's wearing pants for the boys new favourite brand. I guess JM's the one wearing the pants in the house, lol. But then, are they his? They do seem a little on the bigger size.

So, first 17 minutes or so to the live JM talks a bit about not coming live for a while and how he wanted and yet didn't because he's been going through a bit of a personal journey. Not doing well enough in his March promotions, in his mind, had him frustrated and unhappy with himself. Him wanting to restart rather than fix what he feels might be lacking. Kind of resetting himself per say as an artist? In any case he's been doing a lot of introspection. I guess I've mentioned that already, lol. The feeling I got from what he was telling us is that he himself didn't know how to explain what he wanted to tell us. His words not thoroughly thought out, perhaps another sign as to him going live unprepared and before properly thinking out what he wanted to tell us.

JM talks about being at the Dior event. Being nervous and awkward. Also wanting to thank fans that came to see him.

JM is asked multiple times about his hands. Oh my, those hands.

And when I say multiple times, I mean MULTIPLE times, lol. And JM keeps reading those comments and keeps answering again and again and again that it's a scrape from him working out, doesn't hurt, not to worry. At one point, after he is talking about JK's birthday, telling us it's a wonderful day, lovely smile on his face, and asked yet again, he 'bites back' (if you can call if bite back, lol), telling the commenter to look for it later (as in go watch the live from the start when it's over and they will find out).

Is this the right time to discuss JM talking about JK's birthday?

I think it is.

At around the 18 minute stamp time this goes down:

He says Jungkookie, btw.

From the moment he said JK is very busy (he looks at the camera) and up to this point, when he talks about JK's health, not once does JM look at the camera. His eyes were all over the place. And that includes not looking at the camera when he said "I talked to him on the telephone yesterday too".

Remember this?

@dgtn brought this to my attention. JM's eye movement in this part of the live reminds of his eye movement while thinking just before he goes for the kill with JK and the "did you answer them".

Here's JM talking about Jungkookie's birthday. Look at his eyes.

(But that smile at the end...)

JM was definitely deep in thought as to what to say, how to word what he wanted to say for JK's birthday.

Several things to note.

Where to start?

I guess I'll start from the obvious.

People jumping on the wagon: "JM didn't see JK on his birthday. He said so. He said he talked to him yesterday...(to wish him happy birthday?)".

Me, I'm calling the bull.

And I will explain it to you too (foreshadowing).

JM, as usual, is very precise how he words what he wants to say.

His words in this instance:

He mentions JK's birthday today, tells us he's very busy and then says "I talked to him on the phone yesterday too..." and back to "he's really busy..."

"I talked to him on the phone yesterday too..."

Let's take this apart, why don't we?

JM spoke with JK on the phone.

The conversation happened yesterday.

What did they talk about? He doesn't tell us. But mentioning JK being busy before he talks about the phone call and after he talks about the phone call. It feels like this is what he is telling us they spoke about.

So far so good, right?

And then we have two words/things said/or not said that are EVERYTHING here.

One word that he says, the other something that is not said and, at least to me, is super loud and super important and was omitted purposefully.

First word is "too".

I talked to him yesterday too...

TOO.

Leaving the context of the sentence open to interpretation.

Could be any of these:

I talked to him yesterday too just like I speak to him every day?

I talked to him yesterday too because I spoke to him today as well?

I talked to him yesterday too because I was also seeing him later on as well to celebrate his birthday with him?

As for what was missing, well to me it was quite obvious.

JM does not tell us that he wished JK happy birthday.

There was no "I talked to him yesterday too and wished him happy birthday".

JM makes sure to tell us he spoke with JK yesterday (which is not on JK's birthday). Makes sure to add the TOO, but forgets to say that's also when he wished him happy birthday? I think not.

JM is super measured. He is so very careful in what he says and how he says it, especially when it comes to JK. This man not saying it means the words were added or omitted on purpose. And not telling us he wished JK happy birthday in that phone call, well, makes it clear that the phone call in question was definitley not the end of it. Because there is no way in hell that JM would not wish JK happy birthday personally (not via an IG post that JK wouldn't see anyway not being on IG).

Since when would JM not wish JK happy birthday? The man is telling us to wish JK happy birthday, telling us it's a wonderful day, setting his watch to JK's birth time. The man that flew back from Paris to be with JK on his birthday. And also let us know he did it. He wouldn't have wished JK happy birthday himself? And this man wouldn't tell us so either?

Nah. This is JM telling us he spoke with JK, something he does all the time, and that the conversation he's talking about has nothing to do with JK's birthday.

And yeah, by omitting that he's also letting us know that he had another opportunity, one he isn't letting us in on, in which he got to wish JK happy birthday.

PERIOD!

JM talking about JK looking after his health. The way those two worry about each other.

Did I mention the pause as JM finishes talking about JK? It being a wonderful day? The smile on his face?

Oh, and JK mentions JK's birthday once more at the end of the live as well when summing up the live.

Thank you JM for reminding us once more it's JK's birthday and that it was one of those things in your live worth mentioning in your own recap of the live.

Now, I know that there are idiots that are dragging Mingyu for saying he met JK yesterday (on his birthday) and ate with him.

Well, dragging Mingyu on the one hand for what? Saying he met up with his friend on his birthday? That by doing so he was dissing JM? And others, on the other hand, using this, very stupidly, to prove that a busy JK would rather meet up with Mingyu than with JM.

Are we forgetting what JM told us? Well, JK too? That JK is super busy? Most likely in the Hybe building. You know, where Mingyu also comes to work, being in Seventeen, another Hybe band. Could they have met up at Hybe? Of course they could have. Could they even maybe have met up for a meal break at Hybe? Of course they could have. Mingyu was doing the live in a company car, probably on his way home from work looking super tired. So yeah. Chances are that they met at Hybe.

And as for JM, well, you already know where I stand on that one.

JM and JK most definitely saw each other on JK's birthday. Most likely right after JK's live.

Ok, this one is getting a little too long. So I think I'll leave you all here at the moment, let it all sink in, and come back with a part 2 that will include our little house tour and a few more interesting points - well for me at least, lol.

To be continued...

#Jimin #JM #JM live #JM Weverse live #Jungkook #JK #JK birthday #JK birthday 2023 #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook

[at1nys-blog]

Next Door -Masterlist-

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x fem!reader

Summary: When you try to save your friends from bad press (your father's opinion on them) ending up having to find a way to survive it turns different than what you expected, but along the way there are your best friends, new friends and a very annoying gym bro that lives just Next Door

Started: 21/12/2023

Finished: scheduled to end 25/08/2024

Trope: Enemies to lovers

Status: 【Not Started yet】 【Ongoing】 【Finished】

Updates: twice a week 11:30 pm CET

A/N: THIS WAS POSTED FIRST ON MY AO3 ACCOUNT SO MY GOOD FRIEND COULD READ IT TOO AND BECAUSE I WANTED TO TRY SMAU IN THERE and now I can stop screaming. By the way, I waited to posted it on here because I didn't know if I was going to commit or what, so after 14/15 chapters I think I am committed enough. I have to apologize for future typos but I am too lazy to correct and screenshot everything once again lol

Vol.0

Ch.1: Vol.0 Ch.1- Profile 1

Ch.2: Vol.0 Ch.2- Profile 2

Ch.3: Vol.0 Ch.3- Kicked Out…

Ch.4: Vol.0 Ch.4- Kids…

Vol.1

Ch.5: Vol.1 Ch.5- Less pictures

Ch.6: Vol.1 Ch.6- ON MY ANCESTOR

Ch.7: Vol.1 Ch.7- Annoying Rich People

Ch.8: Vol.1 Ch.8-Karma is a Bitch

Vol.2

Ch.9: Vol.2 Ch.9-Luffy is a kid

Ch.10: Vol.2 Ch.10-Proposal

Ch.11: Vol.2 Ch.11- Sabo...

Ch.12: Vol.2 Ch.12- I wasn’t lying

Vol.3

Ch.13: Vol.3 Ch.13- Zoro would never be funny

Ch.14: Vol.3 Ch.14- A weird one

Ch.15: Vol.3 Ch.15- You love me

Ch.16: Vol.3 Ch.16- Turning point

Vol.4

Ch.17: Vol.4 Ch.17- @yasUsopp you are dead

Ch.18: Vol.4 Ch.18- Drunk you

Ch.19: Vol.4 Ch.19- In vino veritas

Ch.20: Vol.4 Ch.20- Is that punk boy?

Vol.5

Ch.21: Vol.5 Ch.21- You are missing

Ch.22: Vol.5 Ch.22- There is no way

Ch.23: Vol.5 Ch.23- Plan in action

Ch.24: Vol.5 Ch24- Bartolomeo the black sheep

Vol.6

Ch.25: Vol.6 Ch.25- Good Taste

Ch.26: Vol.6 Ch.26- Day out

Ch.27: Vol.6 Ch.27- Wedding Surprises

Ch.28: Vol.6 Ch.28- DUDE NOOOOO

Vol.7

Ch.29: Vol.7 Ch.29- Call the firefighters

Ch.30: Vol.7 Ch.30- Little Kids

Ch.31: Vol.7 Ch.31- I will found out

Ch.32: Vol.7 Ch.32- you*

Vol.8

Ch.33: Vol.8 Ch.33- is my pfp

Ch.34: Vol.8 Ch.34- oopsie

Ch.35: Vol.8 Ch.35-** *** *** *******

Ch.36: Vol.8 Ch.36- *** ***** **** ** ***** **** ***

Vol.9

Ch.37: Vol.9 Ch.37-***** *** *********** *

Ch.38: Vol.9 Ch.38- ** **** *********

Ch.39: Vol.9 Ch.39- *** ******* ** ****

Ch.40: Vol.9 Ch.40-*** ****

Vol.10

Ch.41: Vol.10 Ch.41- *** * *****

Ch.42: Vol.10 Ch.42- ****************

Ch.43: Vol.10 Ch.43- ***** ****** ******* ****

Ch.44: Vol.10 Ch.44- ****** ******* **

Vol.11

Ch.45: Vol.11 Ch.45-**** *** *** ******

Ch.46: Vol.11 Ch.46-** ******

Ch.47: Vol.11 Ch.47- ** ****** ****** ******* * *** **** ****

Ch.48: Vol.11 Ch.48- ***** ***

Vol.12

Ch.49: Vol.12 Ch.49-*** **** * ******

Ch.50: Vol12. Ch.50- ***** ********

Ch.51: Vol.12 Ch.51- **** ********

Ch.52: Vol.12 Ch.52- ******* *****

Vol.13

Ch.53: Vol.13 Ch.53- ****** **/****** ***

Ch.54: Vol.13 Ch.54- ***** *** ** ****

Ch.55: Vol.13 Ch.55- ******** ****

Ch.56: Vol.13 Ch.56- **** ********

Vol.14

Ch.57: Vol.14 Ch.57- * ********* ***

Ch.58: Vol.14 Ch.58- ****** ****

Ch.59: Vol.14 Ch.59- ****** ***

Ch.60: Vol.14 Ch.60- ******** *

#NEXT DOOR #NEXT DOOR MASTERLIST #one piece #one piece manga #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece ff #one piece smau #one piece monkey d luffy #one piece roronoa zoro #one piece nami #one piece usopp #one piece sanji #one piece chopper #one piece robin #one piece franky #one piece jimbei #one piece eustass kid #zoro fanfiction #zoro fanfic #zoro ff #zoro smau #zoro social meadia au #zoro x yn #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro x female reader #zoro x reader

[spideesenses]

Half a Heart → Miguel O’Hara

pairing: miguel x gn!reader

warnings: angsty

prompt: miguel has a difficult time balancing out work and his personal life; you have received the short end of the stick countless of times.

Midnight rolled around & the empty spot next to you remains cold. Your heavy heart aches. You tried not to cry, but once that pinch in your chest comes to light, you can’t help the knot that gets stuck in your throat.

This was the 12th time this month that Miguel had left you hanging without any form of communication. 12th time the two of you had planned for a date & him not show up. You understood that he ran a business, you weren’t entirely sure what the business was, only that you would be safer if you didn’t know & to trust Miguel. Him not showing up was only a portion of the issue… the other part was him not communicating. Would you still be a little disappointed if he did communicate? Yes, of course, anyone would be if plans fell through last minute. But you wouldn’t have to hold onto this sliver of hope that just maybe… he’d make it this time.

You started thinking about how he hardly texted you as it was. You weren’t exactly the clingy type. You could be at times, but as a full-time worker, you understood that obligations come up. To make sure you weren’t crazy, you pulled out your phone. You scrolled, making note of the conversations that you had & all of them, were conversations that you initiated.

Two weeks ago

You — 6:56 AM good morning love, i hope you have a great day today. i miss you so much. i’m off at 5 today. any chance we can order takeout and have a movie night?💕

Miggy Smalls — 7:12 AM Buenos dias mi vida. I should be good for a date night, only I’ll be home at around 9 the latest. That okay with you? Be safe, i miss you xo💋

You — 7:15 AM sounds good. should i order from that thai place up the street?

You — 5:20 PM miguel?

You — 6:01 PM i ordered your favorite. should be here in 2 hours and a half. let me know when you’re on the way home. stay safe

You — 8:10 PM oh! i saw this and it reminded me of you. thought you might have a laugh [attachment]

You — 9:32 PM hey, you on the way? im throwing your food in the microwave so it’s warm when you get here!

You — 11:24 PM haven’t heard from you. hope you’re okay. food’s in the fridge🥺

Miggy Smalls — 2:12 AM Dios mios, lo siento baby. I’ll make it up to you, I promise

Two weeks ago

You — 9:44 AM hi! thinking of you. i miss you😭 little bit extra today.

Miggy Smalls - 10 AM Does my baby need a hug delivered? I’ll stop by with some lunch too.

You — 10:03 AM oh please! and a kiss too, while you’re at it🥺

Miggy Smalls — 11:45 AM Omw baby. Hang tight

You — 2:12 PM thank you for coming to see me today. it was very special to me & meant a lot. i love you

Miggy Smalls — 3:54 PM I love you baby. Of course. Sorry it’s been a while since we’ve spent time together, work can be unpredictable at times

You — 4 PM all good. just try to talk to me more, so i can be understanding, okay?

It wasn’t all bad. Miguel had his moments where he would show up for some cuddles. He wouldn’t stay long, but those moments were sacred to you. You cherished those moments beyond his imagination. Of course you did, you had to with how rare they were.

Tears rolled down your face as you went through your messages. You missed him so much. More than words could fathom. And with every single fiber in your body, you wished that you could stop feeling this feeling. Missing him was painful. It felt like your body was operating without its heart. Like you were walking around with only one shoe.

It wasn’t always like this either. In the beginning, Miguel was the one texting and calling you first. He was showing up to your apartment with food and a movie, or a puzzle he picked up. Actually, one of your first quarrels was how he felt like you weren’t doing these things for him. And you felt like these were things he enjoyed, so you didn’t want to take it from him; so the resolution was you would take turns. But that Miguel feels like he’s millions of miles away, as if he’s a completely different person.

You tried your hardest to distract yourself, but the screaming red light of your digital clock reading 12:56 PM only mocked you. You couldn’t get the time of his day. Could you even consider this a relationship?

The memories slowly peeled away in your head. Good and bad. And you really began questioning if the good really could outweigh the bad.

A shadow drifts across your window, causing you to sit up, immediately wiping your face with the sleeve of Miguel’s hoodie. If an intruder was going to get you, you’d be damned if it were booger-faced crying.

Immediately, your heart starts to pound in your chest; if the intruder didn’t know any better, it’d almost be as if you were knocking at the window. You reached for your bedside lamp, clutching it at the base, raising your arm as the shadowed figure presses their fingers to push up the window. Without hesitating, you swipe the lamp at the unnamed stranger.

“Ow! Babe?” you hadn’t even realized your eyes were closed shut and turned to the side. You peeked your eyes and there he was in all of his glory.

“M-Miguel?” you sniffled. You couldn’t help it. You saw him and your heart tore. The weld in your throat tightened as you swallowed.

“Baby, it’s okay. It’s just me.”

Only it wasn’t.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #alia writes

[eviestrology]

Confirmed Birth Times

*Sources will be added shortly, some were from vlives that i don't have access to now so I'll have to see if I can dig up vods

AB6IX

Daehwi 3:33 pm

Astro

Eunwoo 12:08 pm

Ateez

Hongjoong 12:27 pm

Seonghwa 12:13 pm

Yunho 10:32 pm

San 10:08 am

BTS

Jungkook 3:23 pm

Day6

Jae 7:50 pm

EXO

Suho 4:55 am

Baekhyun 6:40 am

Golden Child

Y 8:01 am

Joochan 8: 21 am

GOT7

Youngjae 4:34 am

Bambam 10:25 am

Monsta X

Kihyun 6:50 am

NCT

Jaehyun 8:13 am

Oneus

Hwangwoong 5:15 am

Keonhee 1:58 am

Seoho 9:24 am

Seventeen

Mingyu 10:08 am

Stray Kids

Bang Chan 8:54 pm

TXT

Kai 7:47 pm

Winner

Taehyun 1:21 pm

Everglow

Yiren 11:51 pm

G-IDLE

Soyeon 5:20 pm

ITZY

Chaeryeong 6:49 am

Loona

Kim Lip 12:13 am

Heejin 3:19 pm

Yves 4:50 pm

Chuu 12:09 pm

Lovelyz

Jiae 9:40 am

Pristin

Kyla 5:39 pm

Twice

Jihyo 12:05 am

Mina 5:03 am

VIViZ

Eunha 11:18 am

Soloists/Actors

Sunmi 2:16pm

Hyolyn 5:15 pm

Chungha 1:40 pm

Somi 5:45 am

Sohye 9:35 am

Approximate Birth Times

2PM

Taecyeon 8 am

Ateez

Yeosang 1-2 am

Mingi 4pm

Wooyoung 3-4 am

Day6

Dowoon 6 am

Enhypen

Jake 10 pm

GOT7

Jackson 3 am

NCT

Johnny 7:30 pm

Taeyong 11 pm

Doyoung 2 am

Kun 8 pm

Seventeen

S.Coups 9 am

Dino 10 am

SF9

Dawon 11pm

Stray Kids

Lee Know 8 am

Super Junior

Heechul 6 pm

The Boyz

Sunwoo 8pm

Up10tion

Xiao 5 am

Verivery

Yongseung 9 am

Minchan 2 am

CLC

Yujin 9 am

Dreamcatcher

Siyeon 3 am

Everglow

E:U 4:30 pm

Mia 10:30 am

Fromis_9

Gyuri 8 am

G-IDLE

Miyeon 8am

Minnie 9 am

Loona

Haseul 10 pm

Choerry 6 am

Vivi 12 pm

Red Velvet

Irene 4:30 am

Seulgi 11:30 pm

Yeri 7 am

Twice

Nayeon 9-10 am

Soloists/Actors

Woodz 3 am

#birth times #kpop astrology

[yanderespamton78]

for those following @turntableart's addison arg!! (sorry for the tag)

TIMELINE

APR 16 :

 6:32 am : Turnons blog opened :D

APR 20 : 

8:35 am : Turnon makes the poll about whether he should investigate smth weird addons doing (this shows that addon has been slightly suspicious since the start)

8:35 am : First morse code!!! With the poll 

4:39 pm : “I miss my past” post (possibly relevant??)

4:53 pm : Maskons first post

4:54 pm : First interaction with maskon (through a comment on a post - he didn't yet have a proper blog)

7:24 pm : Addon makes a blog

8:01 pm : First interaction with the morse code entity

8:10 pm : Addon first translates what the morse code entity is saying

8:15 pm : the giftday party incident (i added this bc it makes me laugh a lot)

8:37 pm : rainbon mentioned. Possibly significant? 

9:24 pm : We find out the morse code entity is actually turnon (im guessing right after the acident but i could be wrong)  (the addisons never find this out)

9:47pm : First time the alphabet code entity speaks through turnons posts. Says “i think that's enough. you're scaring him. he's hurt, you wouldn't want him to dust would you?” presumably referring to the morse code entity. Right after this the morse code entity disappears, and any further interactions respond with “but no one came”

9:57 pm : Second interaction with alphabet code entity who says “stop talking to him you're giving him a headache”. Turnon complains about a headache. This is the first signs of a decline in his health. In the next post he says that hes going to go.

10:04 pm : Addon has been translating bits of the morse code for a bit now. The forth analysis ends up being corrupted, and all the characters are just black blocks. 

APR 21 :

9:26 am : First post says that he got a nosebleed and passed out on his desk the previous night. He also mentions that when he woke up there was a cup of tea on his desk which he presumes is from addon but it was never confirmed.

10:59 am : Mentions that the strange people are back (mentioned in the poll) and that hes getting a nosebleed. Mentions in the next post that he feel really dizzy and is going back to his desk

11:34 am : Turnon describes a building pressure in his head like bugs. 

11:50 am : Turnon says that the nosebleed stopped. Alphabet entity gets accused of being slick. It ignores the question and instead tells us to leave turnon alone as he’s stressed with work.

12:00 noon : This post from maskon? Not sure the relevance of the song. definitely creepy tho.

6:14 pm : Here addon confirms that turnon is in the medbay. This is later contradicted by addon himself.

6:14 pm : “turnon” says that he woke up and has no idea where he is. At 6:23 he tags addon for help.

6:19 pm : Addon says that he opened a zipped file and it shut down his pc. This is presumably what causes the medical documents to get leaked.

6:29 pm : “Turnon” says that he knows where he is and isn't happy about it. What??

6:52 pm : A few posts later “turnon” tells addon that he got hurt really badly. He says hes going to try to walk home against addons advice.

7:42 pm : Something happens and “turnon” starts making disturbing posts. They are in english but don’t have spaces. He seems frantic and scared and at 7:54 pm he doesnt respond to his own name, despite the fact that he mentions his goggles and crypton, which are obviously things that are unique to him. 

7:50 pm : Addon responds to the first spaceless post and comments on how turnon couldn't be making the posts as he is unconscious in medbay 

8:03 pm : When not-turnon is questioned on his name he says it is presson and seems confused. He says he found the phone in queens palace (if he is telling the truth, it would make sense why turnon was unhappy about where he was. Obviously he fell into the acid lake in queens mansion so its unsurprising that he would be on edge.)

8:20pm : Presson denies that it was him who typed the weird spaceless posts. 

9:34 pm - 9:59 pm : Presson comments on how dark and run down seraphim is. When questioned on it addon says its probably something interdimensional or timeline based. At this point, his text starts glitching out. Addon tells presson to put the phone in the big machine, but presson says that it looks dangerous and he doesn't want to. He seems genuinely worried about dying, but addon insists he returns the phone. Finally, he puts it in the machine and you are no longer able to contact presson.

10:52 pm : when questioned on the weird glitchy text, he again chalks it up to interdimensional lag

If we go by addons version of events (which he talked about a few days later on the 24th) at about 6-7pm turnon went out and got badly injured. At about 8 pm some kind of entity (presson) took his phone, who addon electrocuted. At about 9 pm Turnon was found in an alleyway with some kind of black fluid gushing out of his nose. 

APR 22 : 

5:37 pm : confirmation that Maskon is Slick

8:28 pm : The first leak of Turnons medical documents. 

9:07 pm - 9:53 pm : this whole saga... Look i know i put way too much trust into maskon and i apologise BUT ADDON STILL ISN’T TRUSTWORTHY!!

10:06 pm : Maskon refers to Turnon as his husband

APR 23 : 

11:04 am : Turnon wakes up!! In a bad state but alive :3 also at 11:08 am he says that hes missing a few parts

4:08 pm : turnon is told about the (made up) debt issues

4:37 pm : turnon is shown his medical document. At 4:57 pm hes told not to tell addon about it.

5:24 pm : Turnon is told about presson. He also says that his last phone is blown up.

5:25 pm : Turnon talks about maskon

5:42 pm : Turnon mentions his legs feeling numb D:

7:20 pm : Turnon secretly spells out help !! wow !! 

7:47 pm : second Turnon medical document leaked!!  (at 8:23 pm i made fun of addon for being bad at stopping important docs from getting leaked)

8:34 pm : we find out about the hats

APR 24 :

12:51 pm : Click gets a blog!!

10:30 pm : Turnon makes a post asking how long is legs are supposed to be numb, and asking why his fingers are turning black. Click reblogs the post and says that hes coming over. After that turnon starts typing his posts really,,, bad,, theres no better way to describe it. After a minute Surf (ambyu-lance) takes the phone and click demands to speak to him and addon

APR 25 : 

6:57 pm : the third medical document leaked. This hasn't been decoded yet, but the first bit seems to be in nihilistic cipher. 

8:16 pm : Turnon makes a post, a picture he drew of himself with the caption “im a little sad, i'll get better”. When questioned on it he says that hes not used to the feeling of being useless.

8:32 pm : THE TAGS. THE TAGS. LOOK AT THE TAGS turnon makes a post. In the tags it says “hes getting worse” “oops did i say that? oh well.” My dumbass cant tell if this is turnip or turnon saying this but worth mentioning anyway.

9:15 pm - 9:37 pm : Clickon is questioned on whether he talked to Surf and Addon. He says that he did, and no one is completely sure whats up with Turnon. Clickon says that Turnons condition is worsening. Hes paler than usual, his fingers are black, and Clickon accidentally pulled out a clump of his hair. Click says that Turnon is a survivor, but even this makes him worried. After this, Addon reblogs the post saying that he didn't talk to clickon last night and theres no footage of Click entering the building. Click is obviously confused, to which Addon tells click to wake up and to stop living in his fantasies. After this Clickon says he feels weird.

9:20 pm : cool lil drawing. Not really relevant but i thought it was neat lol

9:35 pm : TURNON STANDS!!!! He mentions that his legs are black and hurt like hell but hes standing!! (at 9:53 pm he falls over D:)

9:37 pm : Click makes a post that simply reads “Somethings wrong.”

9:57 pm : When questioned if he's ok, clickon replies saying he never made it, before a wall of binary. It reads “Everything feels stuffy, Shadows I'm in my car, I think I'm being watched”. At 10:02 pm Addon reblogs the post saying “get out. Now.” before a string of numbers that haven't been decoded. At 10:09 pm Clickon reblogs the post again with another binary code, this time reading “I don't know where I'm going, My eyes, My eyes, I can barely see, Is it following me”

10:15 pm : Maskon makes some kind of post about Cotton candy. It translates to “i do like cotton candy dont you?”

10:23 pm : someone asks maskon / slick if he did anything to Clickon. Slick said he didn't want yellow to hang out with someone like that, but he deserves his freedom.

10:40 pm : Clickon makes a post in binary. It reads “The stars are beautiful tonight, The stars are beautiful tonight, The stars are beautiful tonight, The stars”

APR 26 : 

Nothing from turnon all day. 

7:35 am : Ice cream blog opened

2:07 pm : The runner of the Ice cream blog says that he uses the alias pinup (but for some reason, he can't disclose his real name. Could be for privacy reasons though.)

2:32 pm : Pinup gets a coat!! He comments on how it doesn’t have a tag for some reason

5:12 pm : Pinup mentions addon. He says that he sees addon as a friend but he isnt sure if addon feels the same.

3:39 pm : Clickon mentions he just woke up in the woods with a massive headache. He doesn't know how he got there. 

3:42 pm - 4:26 pm : Complaining about various things. He mentions having frozen joints, so he probably slept in the woods all night. He says “at least hes alive” which means he probably thought he was genuinely going to die (or hes just being dramatic)

4:33 pm - 10:11 pm : lots of things happen in this thread. Firstly, Clickon says that it was him making the posts in binary. He says he vaguely remembers typing something out on his phone, and that he was very scared. The first two are relatively self explanatory, he was scared. The third one he said he remembered looking up at the stars. He describes everything feeling trippy and disorientating as he was running, and feeling like he was being chased. He ends up being told all about Slick and all that. He isnt actually too surprised?? He says that he is nearing the city and he can see buildings in the distance. Anyways Important Shit Happened Go read it

11:38 pm : Its confirmed that the reason why Turnon didn't post anything is because addon took away his phone.

APR 27 : 

6:37 pm : Clickon updates us saying he got back to the city and after a rough night and is driving to seraphim, presumably to check on turnon

6:44 pm : Turnon makes a post saying hes going to walk home and addon doesnt know. At about 6:55 pm he passes out in the middle of the road. At this point he is disoriented from the pain medication and thinks he is back home.

6:58 pm : Clickon finds addon in the road and mistakes him for roadkill. By 7:04 pm turnon is in his car and they were going back to seraphim. At 7:14 pm he says that turnon is speaking gibberish. 

7:15 pm : Addon says a taskforce has already been sent out to try find turnon

7:29 pm : no matter what turnip says, addon finds out that clickon has turnon and sends out a bunch of shit to stop him, presumably not realising that he has good intentions.

7:36 pm : Clickon gets fucking SHOT !! 2 mins later turnon also presumably gets shot. NICE!! Later addon confirms it was a tranquiliser dart.

7:51 pm : at this point both clickon and turnon have been captured. Addon refers to them as ”two ominous individuals” at 8:04 pm Addon reports that they have been hooked up to an experimental piece of darkner equipment that hurts them when they move. 

8:19 pm : Clickon makes a post saying he doesn't want to die. Addon replied a few minutes later with what is essentially a threat (8:22 pm) and at 8:28 pm he ends up confirming that he knows about Slick

OUGH WHAT A DAY 

THEN THERE'S THE 28TH!!!

APR 28 :

11:25 am : Turnon wakes up back at seraphim, chained to the bed and confused on why he is there, stating that hes supposed to be home.

5:17 pm : Turnon is acting weird. He is weirdly insistent to get home despite never complaining about the facilities at Seraphim, and says that he would break his leg to get home. At one point there is a font change. This is implied to be slick possessing him.

5:30 - 6:30 pm :Theres a whole thread thats very important. Despite there only being two accounts, there is obviously three people in the conversation. Turnon, Addon, and Slick. Addon seems insistent on getting Slick out, even if it involves hurting turnon (“You should be more carefully you signed the contract years ago now I can legally do whatever I wish to you to get the task finished. Parasite” “If not I can feed you to Melody, atleast someone should benefit from your pathetic existence.”).  Turnon seems scared and confused. POOR FUCKING WET TOWEL I WANNA HUG HIM SO BAD POOR CREATURES BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH

@emiplayzmc @tdlizardshinynest take it you freaks /lh

i put all of the longer threads in one bit to make life easier for everyone

Im going to edit this when needed so itll probably be updated once every day or two

[ask-serendipity-sky]

How is jms watch time, the exact time jk was born, featured on a live on JKs birthday , just a coincidence, it seems impossible but I can’t think of any other explanation bc the time is just too specific 😵‍💫

Hi anon,

Between you and me? Jimin's watch tells things... and not just time.

I don't know why but I embrace it lol but I won't lie, this leaves me perplexed.

This is the second time that I've noticed Jimin's watch is spilling tea.

The first was when he was going to NYC on July 13th...you know, when he met up with Jk and they had a trip that they never talked about and Jimin barely acknowledged by uploading a photo for Jk's birthday.

According to dispatch and if you look around twitter to see what time Jimin arrived at the airport, it was 9:00 am Korea time.

However, his watch was set to 8:00.

And what a coincidence...

But ok. He had the time set up for NYC because he was going to spend the weekend there. Ok.

But then we get the watch from his live:

On Jungkook's birthday, Jimin started his live at 8:54 pm Korea time. However, his watch was set to 3:24.

This was a minute into his live so it's showing 3:25.

Jk said he was born on:

His tattoo shows 3:24.

The watch was working fine. It wasn't out of batteries and it was telling a time. 3:24, the same time as Jk's birth time.

We are attributing meaning to the time that Jimin's watch displays. But is that really being delulu? Like you said, it's far too specific for things to be a coincidence.

This watch is centered around Jungkook, is my guess.

The facts are there so there has to be an explanation.

But a coincidence? No, this is not that. It's...something else? Lol

Thanks for sharing.

Before anyone comes and steals joy, I'm not interested in your opinion trying to debunk this. You are irrelevant to the facts. So stay in your lane.

#jikook

[villainsblog97]

"Welcome"

Hello everyone, first of all I'd like to say if you read that Welcome in either Gaon and Junhan's voice, you are a true Villain

A little about me:

My name is Krysta (or Krissy), I am 26 and Xdinary Heroes is my ult group.

My bias is obviously Jooyeon, I live in the US, my MBTI is ENFP and I'm a Taurus, I was born May 7th 1997

I take all sorts of requests (No smut tho please) Nothing to me is too strange of a request, feel free to DM me or Ask me, I try to update the Xdinary Masterlist as often as I can and I love hearing new ideas, I do group scenarios as well as individual member's scenarios, I look forward to hearing and writing your requests!

Xdinary Masterlist: (New Reaction Scenario 1 & 2)

Gun-il:

Gunil as a Bartender (Newest)

[1:24 AM]

[1:21 PM]

Gunil as your Boyfriend HC

Jungsu:

[8:12 AM] (Newest) (Warnings: mentions of stress and anxiety) [2:34 PM]

Jungsu as your Boyfriend HC

Gaon "Jiseok":

[6:06 PM] (Newest)

[1:14 PM] Gaon as your Boyfriend HC

[8:57 PM]

[10:12 AM]

[11:34 AM] (Warnings: mentions of anxiety attacks)

Always Here

[5:21 PM]

O.de "Seungmin":

O.de as your Boyfriend HC (Newest)

[11:54 PM]

Junhan "Hyeongjun":

Junhan as your Boyfriend HC (Newest)

[12:10 PM]

Jooyeon:

[9:15 PM] (Newest)

[3:23 PM] (mentions of heights and fears of heights)

Jooyeon as your Boyfriend HC

[9:21 AM]

[10:57 PM]

[8:23 PM]

[7:48 PM] 🎄

[2:34 PM]

[10:27 PM]

Xdinary Heroes:

Seeing their S/O playing their instruments (Newest)

Their S/O gets Jealous (Newest)

Watching a Horror Movie

-Getting their Hair Done by their S/O

-Receiving Nose Boops

-Summer Dates

-Receiving head pats

-Realizing They've Hurt you (slight angst)

-As Dads

-Hearing their Name in their S/O's sleep

-On Valentine's Day 💕

-Taking care of their Drunk S/O

-In an Escape Room

-Seeing their S/O in the crowd at their concert

-Waking up next to you

-Hearing their S/O singing one of their songs

-When their S/O is fangirling / fanboying over a different group and one of their members

-Taking care of their S/O when they're on their period

-A date at the petting zoo

-When they get jealous

-When their S/O is asking for cuddles

-Their S/O falling asleep on their lap

-Getting into an argument with their S/O and then sleeping next to them

-Their S/O wearing their hoodie

-With your younger family members

-Their S/O dealing with stress and anxiety (Warning mentions of stress and anxiety)

-Christmas with Xdinary Heroes 🎄

-Xdinary Heroes in Hogwarts (Harry Potter AU)

-Getting Tickled

-Pretending to be your boyfriend if you're uncomfortable at a bar

-Xdinary Heroes when they're drunk

-When their S/O is sick or injured

-Their S/O reacts to their Visual Sampler videos

-Xdinary Heroes in a haunted house 🎃

-Xdinary Heroes Romance Troupes

-Xdinary Heroes as your boyfriend

#xdinary heroes #gunil #jungsu #gaon #ode #junhan #jooyeon

[symbolicliving]

November 2023 Monthly Astrology Calendar Planets Key Dates and Times

Here are a few quick and convenient ways of looking at what's happening in astrology for the month ahead ~ November 2023.

These are some of the key astrological considerations that are interpreted into Your NEW Weekly Astrology Horoscopes for All Signs each week. More specific details about aspects between the planets are shared in the Weekly Key Dates and Times.

I will be updating this post as we continue through the month with links to associated posts.

You can also enjoy more new posts on current trends in astrology for November 2023 here.

Key Dates and Times Astrological Monthly Calendar November 2023

November 4, 2023 Saturn Retrograde in Pisces stations Direct 3:03 am ET

November 8, 2023 Venus enters Libra 4:31 am ET

November 10, 2023 Mercury enters Sagittarius 1:25 am ET

November 13, 2023 New Moon in Scorpio 4:27 am ET

November 22, 2023 Sun enters Sagittarius 9:03 am ET

November 24, 2023 Mars enters Sagittarius 5:15 am ET

November 27, 2023 Full Moon in Gemini 4:16 am ET

Planets Astrological Monthly Calendar November 2023

Here is a list of where the planets are as November begins. This month, The Sun, Mercury, Venus, Mars and Saturn are making moves...

*Sun in Scorpio October 23 to November 22, 2023 ~ enters Sagittarius

*Mercury in Scorpio October 22 to November 10, 2023 ~ enters Sagittarius

*Venus in Virgo October 8 to November 8, 2023 ~ enters Libra

*Mars in Scorpio October 12 to November 24, 2023 ~ enters Sagittarius

Jupiter in Taurus, Retrograde September 4, 2023 to January

*Saturn in Pisces, Retrograde June 17 to November 4, 2023 - Direct in Pisces

Uranus in Taurus, Retrograde since August 28, 2023

Neptune in Pisces, Retrograde since June 30th, 2023

Pluto in Capricorn Direct since October 10, 2023

The Moon in the Signs, New Moon, Full Moon and the Moon's Conjunctions with the Planets November 2023.

November begins with a waning Moon from the Full Moon in Taurus Lunar Eclipse on October 28, 2023. This month we have:

The New Moon in Scorpio November 13, 2023, and

The Full Moon in Gemini November 27, 2023 4:16 am ET.

November 1, 2023 Moon enters Cancer 5:31 pm ET

November 4, 2023 Moon enters Leo 3:21 am ET

November 6, 2023 Moon enters Virgo 2:39 pm ET

November 8, 2023 Moon enters Libra 3:08 am ET

November 9, 2023 Moon-Venus conjunct in Libra 5:22 am ET

November 11, 2023 Moon enters Scorpio 1:39 pm ET

November 13, 2023 Moon-Sun conjunct in Scorpio 4:27 am ET *New Moon in Scorpio

November 13, 2023 Moon-Mars conjunct in Scorpio 7:18 am ET

November 13, 2023 Moon enters Sagittarius 9:23 pm ET

November 14, 2023 Moon-Mercury conjunct in Sagittarius 9:03 am ET

November 16, 2023 Moon enters Capricorn 2:42 am ET

November 18, 2023 Moon-Pluto conjunct in Capricorn 3:27 am ET

November 18, 2023 Moon enters Aquarius 6:28 am ET

November 20, 2023 Moon enters Pisces 9:29 am ET

November 20, 2023 Moon-Saturn conjunct in Pisces 10:44 am ET

November 22, 2023 Moon-Neptune conjunct in Pisces 3:44 am ET

November 22, 2023 Moon enters Aries 12:20 pm ET

November 24, 2023 Moon enters Taurus 3:29 pm ET

November 25, 2023 Moon-Jupiter conjunct in Taurus 4:42 am ET

November 26, 2023 Moon-Uranus conjunct in Taurus 3:02 am ET

November 26, 2023 Moon enters Gemini 7:40 pm ET

November 27, 2023 Moon opposite Sun in Sagittarius 4:16 am ET *Full Moon in Gemini

November 29, 2023 Moon enters Cancer 1:54 am ET

Thank you for being a friend, and Thank you for sharing with your friends.

#november 2023 #astrology #horoscope #monthly astrology #monthly horoscope #key dates #halloween #new moon in scorpio #full moon in gemini #gemini #scorpio

[shxwstxpper]

STARLIT SONGBIRD - TIMELINE

1/28/24, 8:22 PM - first occurrence of POKOTHO interacting with KAI.

1/28/24, 8:30 PM - second occurrence of POKOTHO interacting with KAI.

1/28/24, 8:40 PM - third occurrence of POKOTHO interacting with KAI.

1/28/24, 9:02 PM - fourth occurrence of POKOTHO interacting with KAI. KAI agrees to go to the theater.

1/28/24, 9:25 PM - CHRIS tells KAI to stay safe. KAI promises she will be.

1/29/24, 10:23 AM - KAI arrives at the theater. the apotheosis begins to take hold of her.

1/29/24, 12:19 PM - KAI assimilates into the hive.

1/30/24, 12:23 PM - CHRIS arrives at the theater. KAI infects him soon after.

1/30/24, 10:57 PM - KAI reaches out to STEPH, urging her to go to the starlight. she obliges. STEPH is infected soon after.

1/29/24, 8:46 PM - PAUL reaches out to KAI.

1/31/24, 5:46 PM - KAI reaches out to GRACE, urging her to go to the starlight. she obliges. GRACE is infected soon after.

1/30/24, 11:39 AM - WEBBY involves herself, reaching out to POKAITHO.

1/30/24, 6:54 PM - KAI manages to post from the black and white. CHRIS manages to respond. parts of KAI’s past are revealed.

1/31/24, 6:11 PM - KAI reaches out to PAUL23, urging him to go to the starlight. he reluctantly obliges. he tries to explode the meteor. his plan fails. PAUL23 is infected soon after.

1/31/24, 8:51 AM - KAI reaches out to LEX, urging her to go to the starlight. she refuses.

1/30/24, 2:35 PM - VILLE goes to the starlight, and almost assimilates.

1/31/24, 8:30 AM - LAIKA reaches out to KAI, asking about her wellbeing. KAI urges him to go to the theater. he agrees.

2/1/24, 12:36 PM - LAIKA is assimilated into the hive.

1/31/24, 2:19 PM - BEAN involves themselves.

1/31/24, 3:41 PM - POKAITHO taunts PAUL. PAUL agrees to go to the theater.

1/31/24, 4:08 PM - LEAH is assimilated into the hive.

2/1/24, 6:39 PM - EMDROID and PAUL arrive at the starlight. it is revealed that KAI is still alive in some capacity. PAUL almost dies, but thanks to EMDROID, the two escape.

2/1/24, 10:25 AM - TABBY and KAI converse, discussing a possible way to free those from the infection. KAI laments on the fact that she feels that she is already gone.

2/1/24, 11:36 AM - WEBBY gives TABBY a protective amulet.

2/1/24, 1:20 PM - BROOKE involves herself. she and STEPH converse.

2/1/24, 12:46 PM - THE CLIVESDALE PROTECTORS involve themselves.

2/1/24, 1:41 PM - LAIKA convinces KACIE to go to the starlight.

2/1/24, 6:34 PM - KAI convinces ROSARIA to go to the starlight.

2/1/24, 9:30 PM - STEPH breaks out of the infection, with TABBY’S help.

2/1/24, 10:16 PM - TABBY gives LEX a protective pendant.

2/2/24, 11:31 AM - BROOKE reaches out to KAI.

2/2/24, 7:54 AM - STEPH is re-assimilated into the hive.

2/2/24, 7:20 AM - SAM is assimilated into the hive.

2/2/24, 7:24 AM - EMDROID laments.

2/2/24, 7:34 AM - POKAITHO taunts EMDROID.

2/2/24, 9:29 AM - POKAITHO impersonates KAI, tricking PAUL into coming to the starlight. PAUL is assimilated into the hive.

post will be updated as event goes on! lmk if I missed anything!

(Starlit Songbird Tag List: @christianchasity @gloryandgrace @lauterishotter @laika-at-hatchetfield @idolikemusicals @paul-matthewsccrp23 @alexandra-foster @perkys-420 @stuckinmyweb @tabbycat-of-hatchetfield @blackjackbisexual @probably-ancient-evil @villeisahuman @kacieewilliams @clivesdale-protectors @hatchetfieldarsonist)

#pastriiposting #ooc: AhHWGHEBG THAT TOOK FOREVER #ooc: I’m eeby now :( #starlit songbird #kai drew #tkwdlm #the kai who didn’t like musicals #oc #oc rp #oc rp blog #hatchefield rp #hatchetblr #ooc #ooc post

[bambi-kinos]

So r/beatlescirclejerk posted a butthole chart which I immediately dragged back to the Discord server for discussion. A consensus has been reached and I present to you the new and improved Beatles butthole chart. I will post some of the discussion and reasoning behind these choices as well as my personal take on John and Paul combined with the knowledge learned from my high school Anatomy class 15 years ago.

mynamesbetty — Today at 1:43 PM how dare you make me look at this with my eyes

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 1:44 PM This is extremely important Beatles historiography

mynamesbetty — Today at 1:54 PM We saw John's butt on the back of Two Virgins, I don't recall it being hairy

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 1:55 PM That's a good point as well

We have a full shot of John's butt, a side view of Paul's butt, and a suspected shot of Ringo's butt....do we have a shot of George's butt

What i find interesting is the skintone chart, i always figured Paul's butthole would be pink.

mynamesbetty — Today at 1:59 PM butthole color is the same as lip color

VeggieRavioli — Today at 2:06 PM I am ignoring this notification in protest

namaste — Today at 7:22 PM What’s the saying? God has a plan? I hate how quickly I could form an opinion on this.

I think it’s mostly wrong.

John: hairless wonder, smooth as a peach, that apricot skin… Quote by Yoko (won’t fetch sorry on deadline she says yet shitposting) over how keen they were on hygiene and baths. Known to wear Witch Hazel by Quinn's throughout his life. The real flower princess.

Also, uncut. Had to be on top of that. Double-jointed, agile, loose like a cat. Happy to confirm all of the above via Self-Portrait. Do DM it anytime. I’ll find 42 mins to analyse and report.

Paul: VERY furry and soft unless he waxes (I mean he did tweeze his eyebrows at one point, who knows? Actually John does…).

Smelly if I go by a description of dog faeces and poor housekeeping by him at Cavendish. Oh, and crabs. I’ll never forget in GB George looking 🤢 while cleaning his guitar strings with an alcohol wipe.

Tight. Everything about him is tight. Very tight in fact. Tightwad, uptight and a song by John, the great Tight A$ which is most definitely not a Yoko song.

George: meticulous, good work ethic, a gentleman according to all, professional, always well presented, and the rare individual in GB who looks clean at all times. Hairy dude, but less than Paul.

One way or another, he probably had the best upkeep of all. Chakra oil all over I imagine. Known to smell good. He likely could be anything he wanted to be between loose and tight. Flexible mind in a nimble body.

Ringo: smoothest skin of all. I’m assuming the entire toolbox is fabulous. He may well have the nicest pinkest best defined hole of them all. Like George, a precise and meticulous fella. Known to smell good.

Also, likes jewellery. The key question here is does he have a third tattoo, a ring or both?

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 8:02 PM This is the best response i could receive

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 8:09 PM I will repost my anal-ysis from [redacted]

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 9:19 PM Its mostly about color as we got on to talking about skintones

namaste — Today at 9:22 PM I’ll let you guys try to find Paul’s skin tone there underneath all that soft fur of his.

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 9:23 PM just one more reason why we need a fucking paul mccart only fans. vintage nudes

namaste — Today at 9:24 PM Exactly. I wish EMI had put their foot down a lot harder about the Two Virgins cover. Now we would know.

“Sean, open them vaults…”

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 9:26 PM okay okay okay so. this was in response to another person who was pondering the connection between lips and assholes, as per betty's note about lips and butt holes sharing a color. I have combined this knowledge with what I know about sex having so here we go. everything from here is me quoting myself:

Honestly to get a detailed hypothesis regarding their butthole colors we'll need to study color photos of the boys and examine their lips, compare them across decades etc

Obvs this will get easier as we get into later decades. Lighting must be accounted for and so on

Initial survey here suggests a pale pink for all of them....George and Ringo probably paler and more skin toned. John did have a phenomenon where his lips would get very raw and red when he worked up a sweat which makes sense, he's flushing because he's physically active. This is also a side effect of him being a redhead, they blush easily. From this we can also assume John's hole and genitalia would become heavily colored during sexual activity as well.

(The photos I was thinking of. Note how even in the original b&w John’s lips are noticeably more colored than normal. Compare this to other color photos where he’s sedate where his lips are paler. This is consistent with how he gets flushed when physically worked up. - Ed.) 

Paul its not as obvious (so him) but just from this photo I can assume baseline that he's naturally a soft pink yknow.... Maybe doesn't flush as dark as John.

1970s we're getting more color but less hi-def photos. Keeping it to John and Paul now. Still looking like a pale pink but Paul's lips/genitalia color is more vibrant now than John's.

1980s, Paul much the same, John is notably a bit more vibrant. I bet his dick still turns purple if you don't let him cum for an hour.

I'm doing all this from my phone so finding images is a little difficult, I'll call these findings preliminary. But from these I'm guess that Paul's hole and genitals trend towards a pale pink and flush a deeper pink during sexual activity. John's would be pale, probably only a shade or two darker than his original skintone and then he flushes a very deep and dark red during intercourse.

[someone in a second Discord server asked me if I was going to survey the Beatles' relatives and try to build visual profiles based off their appearances in order to build a bigger skintone chart that can tell us more about the Beatles’ blush patterns.]

What it would actually require is examining photos of male genitalia from the same ethno groups that the Beatles belong to, keeping in mind that even for their time their families were heavily mixed thru intermarriage between Irish and Anglos. I don't mind doing it but it would take a while so examining their lip colors is suitable for now.

We live in a world where there's no Paul McCartney Only Fans and I can't pay money to see his asshole get railed with a knotted Bad Dragon dildo. truly we live in the darkest timeline.

namaste — Today at 9:32 PM John slept with Bowie who you know... I’d think your description explains why that was not repeated. He probably couldn’t sit down for a week. Sang fairly high in Fame.

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 9:32 PM bingo

namaste — Today at 9:32 PM We’re breaking ground here as always.

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 9:33 PM I'm sure john and paul are both very tight tbh though paul probably remained so and struggled to relax -- made it good for john though, I don't think he's the type who would complain about it.

Leggy Maddingway — Today at 9:37 PM otherwise I believe your guesses about their hygiene and the scents they used are spot on. wouldn't surprise me at all if Paul was hairy down there, someone on reddit reminded me that it's about what's between the cheeks not necessarily on... its not unusual to have hair there either. It's one of those things that gives Paul a masculine edge to salt his femininity, I doubt John had any complaints considering the caliber of men he was used to hooking up with.

</end quote

From these discussions and my own thoughts, I built the new and improved Beatles butthole chart. Please let me know what you guys think. I will be updating this post if any new information comes to light or if I find my notes from my Anatomy class. Cheers!

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #mclennon #my meta #beatles meta #talktalktalk #shitpost

[kennak]

理財局長に就任[編集] 2016年6月17日、佐川は理財局長に就任[20]。同年6月20日、財務省近畿財務局は、学校法人森友学園との間で豊中市の国有地についての売買契約を締結した。売却金額は非公開とされた[25][26]。 2017年2月8日、豊中市議会議員の木村真は、国が森友学園に売却した国有地の代金が公開されないのは不当だとして、開示を求める訴えを大阪地裁に起こした[26][注 1]。2月9日、朝日新聞が、払い下げの国有地に新設予定の安倍晋三記念小学校の名誉校長が安倍昭恵であること、森友学園側に契約違反があった場合、国が「1億3400万円」で買い戻す特約がついていたこと、森友学園の籠池泰典理事長が売却額が買い戻し特約と同額と認めたこと、売却額は同じ規模の近隣国有地の10分の1であること、籠池が日本会議大阪の役員を務めていることなどを報じた[28]。2月10日、同紙の報道を受け、財務省は一転して売却価格は1億3400万円であると公表した。売却価格が格安になった理由については「地下に大量のごみがあったため」と説明した[29]。 公文書改ざん[編集] 2017年2月15日の衆議院財務金融委員会を皮切りに野党の追及が始まる。日本共産党の宮本岳志は、国交省職員から土壌汚染除去費用の総額を聞き出し、佐川に対しても質問を行った[30]。 同年2月17日、安倍晋三首相は衆議院予算委員会で民進党の福島伸享から追及を受けると「私や妻が関係していたということになれば、まさに私は、それはもう間違いなく総理大臣も国会議員もやめるということははっきりと申し上げておきたい」と答弁した[31][32][33]。2月23日午後、森友学園は「瑞穂の國記念小學院」の公式サイトから、安倍昭恵の写真と挨拶文を削除した[34]。 同年2月22日、佐川と財務省大臣官房総括審議官の太田充は菅義偉官房長官に官邸に呼ばれ、国有地売却の経緯などについて説明した[35][36]。 2月17日の衆議院予算委員会、2月24日の同予算委員会、同日の同財務金融委員会のいずれかの委員会において、安倍の秘書官の一人が十数メートル先に座る佐川に歩み寄り、「もっと強気で行け。PMより」と書かれた1枚のメモを手渡した[37][注 2]。2月24日、佐川は衆議院予算委員会で「森友学園との交渉や面会の記録は速やかに廃棄した」と答弁した[21]。同日午後、内閣官房長官長官記者会見で、記者は佐川の廃棄発言について菅に質問した。菅は「面会等の記録についてはその保存期間は1年未満とされている」と示したうえで、「契約書を含む国有財産の取得および処分に関する決裁文書については30年間の保存期間が定められており、そこにほとんどの部分が書かれてある」から問題はないと説明した[38]。 同年2月26日、財務省は、国有地売却の決裁文書から安倍昭恵、鴻池祥肇の秘書、平沼赳夫の秘書、北川イッセイの副大臣秘書官らに関する記述を「できる限り早急に」削除するよう、近畿財務局の職員7人にメールで指示[注 3]。近畿財務局は同日から文書の改竄を開始した[39][42]。安倍首相と籠池の関係を指し示す記述も改竄が行われ、「籠池康博氏は、『日本会議大阪代表・運営委員』を始めとする諸団体に関与」「日本会議と連携する組織として、超党派による『日本会議国会議員懇談会』が平成9年5月に設立され、現在、会長に平沼赳夫議員、副会長に安倍晋三総理らが就任」などの文言が削除された[43][44][45]。 同年3月20日、財務省国有財産審理室は、近畿財務局職員に「局長からの指示により、調書につきまして、現在までの国会答弁を踏まえた上で、作成するよう直接指示がありました」と記されたメールを送信した[40][41]。当該メールは、元近畿財務局職員の赤木俊夫が改竄の経緯をまとめた文書（通称「赤木ファイル」）に保存されており、佐川の関与は、そののちファイルが公開されたことで明確なものになった[46]。 同年4月3日、衆議院決算行政監視委員会で、「行政文書は紙もパソコン上のデータも同様に取り扱いにしている。データは短期間で自動的に消去され、復元できないようなシステムになっている」と答弁した[47][48]。4月7日、部下の中尾睦理財局次長は衆議院内閣委員会で「自動消去という機能は基本的にない。データを削除した場合は14日間は復元可能だが、それを超えると復元できない。通常の職員はそういうことはできない仕組みになっている」と述べ、佐川の答弁を事実上訂正した。4月10日、財務省情報管理室の担当者は朝日新聞の取材に応じ、「復元は難しいが、できないとは断言できない」と復元の可能性を認めた[48]。しかし佐川は4月12日の衆議院財務金融委員会で「電子データも文書管理規則にのっとり、紙と同様に削除している。その後、一定期間が経過すれば、自動的に削除される」「専門家においてもデータの復元ができないと聞いている」と主張し続けた。また、「財務省全体として大量のデータを日々追加、更新しており、サーバーの容量にほとんど余裕がない中で、（削除されたデータは）日々置き換わっている状況だ」と述べた[48]。 同年5月15日、市民団体「健全な法治国家のために声をあげる市民の会」（代表：八木啓代）は、財務省が森友学園との交渉記録を廃棄したとして、佐川、迫田英典、田中一穂、中尾睦、武内良樹、田村嘉啓、池田靖ら7人に対する公用文書等毀棄容疑での告発状を東京地方検察庁に提出した[49][50][51]（東京地検はのちに被疑事件を大阪地方検察庁特別捜査部に移送した[52]）。 同年7月4日、財務省は、佐川を7月5日付で国税庁長官とする人事を発表した[3]。自由党の森裕子は「あからさまな論功行賞の人事だ。首相を守るため、『ありえない』答弁を平然と繰り返して栄転された」と反発。与党の閣僚経験者も「事実に背を向けてでも、官邸の意向に従っていれば出世できるというあしき前例になる」と述べ、起用した政府の姿勢を疑問視した。これらの声に対し麻生財務相と菅義偉官房長官は「適材適所」と口をそろえた[3][53]。 大阪地検特捜部は豊中市議会議員の木村真らが3月に行った刑事告発[54][55]を一旦は受理したものの、背任容疑の捜査に手間取っていた。そこで近畿財務局のコンピュータから押収したデータをもとに、先に公文書の変造容疑を固めることにした。同年夏から秋にかけてDF（デジタルフォレンジック）センター準備室がデータの復元および解析を行い、決済文書改ざんの痕跡を突き止めた[56]。 財務省を退官[編集] 2018年3月2日、朝日新聞が一面トップで、国有地取引をめぐる決裁文書が書き換えられている疑いを初めて報じた[4]。同年3月7日、赤木俊夫が神戸市内の自宅で自殺した[57]。翌8日、近畿財務局管財部長の楠敏志が赤木の家を弔問した[58]。 同年3月9日、佐川は麻生太���財務大臣に、国税庁長官の職を辞し、退職したい旨を申し出た[5]。政府は持ち回り閣議で佐川の辞任を認める人事を決定した[59]。赤木の死について記者から問われると、佐川は「今日のニュースで知った」と答えた[58]。 同日夜、麻生は記者会見し、「国有財産行政に対する信頼を損なったことを踏まえ、減給20％3ヶ月分の懲戒処分を実施する」と述べ、同時に処分を科したことを明らかにした[60][22]。辞任を申し出た理由は「（1）理財局長当時の国会対応が丁寧さを欠いており、混乱をもたらした。（2）行政文書の管理について指摘を受けた。（3）書き換え疑惑のある決裁文書について、担当局長であった」の三点とされた[61]。矢野康治財務省大臣官房長の財務金融委答弁によると、額にすると約66万円の減給となり、退職金4999万円から差し引かれた[62]。 同年3月12日、財務省は「14件の決裁文書を書き換えた」ことを認め[63]、「決裁文書の書き換えの状況」と題する書き換え前と書き換え後の対照表を公表した[64]。3月13日付の読売新聞夕刊は、自殺した職員（赤木）の遺書に「本省の指示で文書を書き換えさせられた」との記述があると報じた[65]。 同年3月27日、佐川は衆参両院の予算委員会で証人喚問を受けた[66][67]。文書改ざんの指示などに関する質問に対して「刑事訴追の恐れがある」との理由により証言を拒否した答弁は40回以上に及んだ[68]。ただし、自民党の丸川珠代から「安倍総理からの指示はありませんでしたね」「安倍総理夫人からの指示もありませんでしたね」と聞かれると、それぞれ「ございませんでした」と明確に答えた。丸川は「官邸の官房長官、官房副長官、総理秘書官、安倍総理の秘書官、麻生財務大臣、麻生財務大臣の秘書官、財務省の事務次官、官房長などの大臣官房、他の局の幹部」からの指示はあったかと繰り返し尋ね、佐川はそのたびに立ち上がり「ございませんでした」と答えた[69][68][70][71]。 同年5月31日、大阪地検特捜部は、佐川ら財務省幹部38人全員を不起訴処分とした[72][73]。同年6月4日、財務省は「森友学園案件に係る決裁文書の改ざん等に関する調査報告書」を公表するとともに[74]、退職者2人を含む幹部ら20人の処分を発表した。佐川は停職3ヶ月の懲戒処分を受けた[75]。 2019年3月15日、大阪第一検察審査会は、不起訴処分とした38人のうち、有印公文書変造・同行使容疑などで佐川ら6人、背任容疑などで管財部次長の小西眞ら4人について「不起訴不当」と議決した[注 4]。しかし同年8月9日、大阪地検特捜部は佐川ら10人を再び不起訴処分とした[79]。 赤木雅子による提訴[編集] 2020年3月18日発売の『週刊文春』3月26日号が、総計15ページにわたる森友学園問題の特集記事を組み、赤木が死の直前に書いた手記全文を掲載した[80][81][82]。手記には「元は、すべて、佐川理財局長の指示です」「佐川理財局長の指示を受けた、財務本省理財局幹部、杉田補佐が過剰に修正箇所を決め、杉田氏の修正した文書を近畿局で差し替えしました」と記されていた[83][84]。 同年3月18日、赤木の妻の赤木雅子は、国に約1億700万円、佐川に約550万円の損害賠償を求め、大阪地裁に訴えを提起した[85]。雅子の弁護団は同日、手記全文を公���した[83][86]。 2021年12月15日、国は、自殺と森友学園問題に関する決裁文書改竄作業との因果関係を認め「請求認諾」を行ない、訴訟を終結させた[87]。 2022年2月9日、大阪地裁で口頭弁論が開かれ、赤木雅子は、佐川側が賠償請求を認めて「認諾」をすることを避け、尋問などで改ざんの経緯を明らかにするため、賠償請求額を550万円から1650万円に増やした[88]。 同年9月16日、赤木雅子、川内博史、辻恵らは、情報開示請求に「不存在」と虚偽の理由で不開示決定をされたとして、佐川、元理財局総務課長の中村稔、元同局国有財産審理室長の田村嘉啓の3人に対する虚偽有印公文書作成・同行使容疑の告発状を東京地検特捜部に提出した[89][90][91][92]。 同年11月25日、大阪地裁は、佐川に対する1650万円の損害賠償を求める裁判で、「公務員の個人責任を認める法的根拠は見いだしがたい」として請求を棄却した。佐川は裁判中は公の場所へはいっさい出ず、当該裁判においては代理弁護士まで出廷しなかった[93][94]。同年12月2日、赤木雅子は控訴した[95]。 同年12月27日、東京地検特捜部は、虚偽有印公文書作成・同行使容疑の刑事告発についていずれも嫌疑不十分で不起訴とした[96]。 2023年5月1日、佐川に損害賠償を求めた訴訟の控訴審で、赤木雅子は、一審で認められなかった佐川への本人尋問を実施するよう大阪高裁に申請した。またそのほかに、中村稔、田村嘉啓、近畿財務局の赤木俊夫の上司ら計4人の証人尋問も求めた[97][98]。同年9月13日に控訴審第1回口頭弁論が大阪高裁で行われ、黒野功久裁判長は「尋問を実施する必要がない」として佐川の尋問を認めず、結審した[99]。同年12月19日、大阪高裁は1審判決を支持し、赤木雅子の控訴を棄却した。判決理由で黒野裁判長は、赤木雅子が佐川に経緯の説明や謝罪を求めていることについて、「誠意を尽くした説明や謝罪があってしかるべきとも考えられるが、法的義務を課すことは困難」と言及した[100]。27日、赤木雅子側は判決を不服として上告した[101]。

佐川宣寿 - Wikipedia

[lullabyes22-blog]

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - Ch: 17 - Grounded

Summary: Zaun is free—and must grow into its unfamiliar new dimensions. So must Silco and Jinx. A what-if that diverges midway through the events of episode 8. Found family and fluff, politics and power, smut and slice-of-life, villainy and vengeance.

AO3 - Forward, But Never Forget/XOXO

FFnet - Forward, But Never Forget (XOXO)

Playlist on Youtube

Fanart, Meta, Snippets

Chapters: 1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |8 | 9 | 10 |11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54

CH 17: Silco and Jinx. A pitch-black comedy with a pinch of magic.

HEAVY TW: Suicidal ideation, discussions of suicide, attempted suicide.

Secondary tw: violence, disturbing adult behavior among adolescents, depictions of mental illness.

cw for drug use, jumpscares, and the aftermath of war.

If I've missed any tw's, please drop me a PM!

I love and I hate it at the same time you and I drank poison from the same vine ~ "Daylight" – David Kushner

The young bootblack trudges home.

His workbag is slung over his small shoulder. His bones ache in the mizzle hanging like translucent curtains over the cobblestones. It's been a long day. Hellishly long. The explosion in the lower-zones is over. But fear hangs in the air like a persistent chill.

Like after the war.

It wasn't so bad after the first few months. They started tearing down and rebuilding the broken bits in the city, like a stage set from one of those street plays. The web of merchant alleys in the Sumps were pitched with colorful tents, strands of lanterns and chaotic booths. Shops started opening in the Promenade, their doors releasing the aroma of fresh-baked scones and candied carvernfruit. Entresol ran thick with somber suited-up men and women filing in and out of skyscrapers—what his grandpa calls The infernal machines of bureaucracy.

The boy takes it to mean literal machines. All steam and gears and pulleys, powering the city. He doesn't mind it. There were people out on the streets again. Hundreds of shoes stomping through the sludge across the pavements. Dirty shoes mean coins.

By the month's end, he'll have less chances to make coins. There is talk of public schools, and compulsory education for urchins under fifteen. He dislikes the idea of school. Grandpa has promised him there'll be new games to play. But playing outside is better.

Not tonight.

All the streets are emptied. Folks are only allowed to get food from the grocer's, and return home. The street-corners are full of whispers. Firelights—Jinx—The Eye of Zaun. The boy isn't sure what any of it means, except that the city has fallen dark again. Blackguards patrol in chem-suits, carrying guns.

They aren't here to play. Their guns aren't toys.

Under the flickering halo of a street lantern, the boy stops to roll a cigarette. Grandpa warned him not to tarry. Trouble's a-brewing, he'd said. Finish yer work, then sling yer hook.

But it's good to be out, if only for a few minutes.

The boy licks the edge of the paper, and takes a slow breath of the sticky April night.

"Diesel strain, hm? You're having yourself a time."

The man looming from the fog is tall. Taller than Grandpa. His face is like Grandpa's too: all wrinkles and scars. But only on one side, hidden under unruly twists of dark hair. He wears a long coat, the hem clouded with dust, like the tips of his boots, which have metal winking on the toes.

His smile is a sharp thing. But his one blue eye lingers gently on the boy, as if he might be thinking of some other child from long ago.

The stare is unsettling. The boy thinks of a fly caught in a spider's web. He likes spiders. He keeps a big fat one—Billy-O—in a shoebox under his and Grandpa's bed, and feeds it dead bugs.

This is different. This isn't a spider—but something spookier—unfolding out of the dark and blocking his path.

Hastily, the boy tucks the unlit cigarette behind his ear. "I'll be off, sir."

"Do. It's dangerous at this hour."

There is no sinister game of hopscotch. The man sidesteps smoothly, letting the boy go. Close-up, the boy glimpses the man's other eye from behind the veil of hair. It shines with an otherworldly glow: ember and shadow. The boy's heart plummets. He takes off like a shot. Giddiness is a thin cover for undiluted terror.

Death darkening the door—as Grandpa says.

Daring a glance over his shoulder, the boy looks for the strange man.

The streets are empty.

The streets are empty, but Silco is at home.

He's always at home, no matter what part of Zaun he's in. The city's spirit throbs in his bloodstream. Outrunning it is like trying to outrun his own skin. Still—it's been a long time since he's gone from the zenith to ground-zero. He has a view of the cityscape's glittering tapestry through his office window. But it's different from being in the thick of it.

Right in Zaun's bazaar of the bizarre.

Slipping out of his headquarters was easy, even with the doubled guards, and tripled surveillance. When Silco first had the building renovated, he'd ordered it designed the way illusionists build the trappings of their stage. There was the façade: an Art Noveau showcase of steel-framed glass. Then there was the inner sanctum: a warren of trap-doors and tunnels.

His network was privy to the barest blueprint. Silco kept a skeleton crew on permanent shift, guarding each escape hatch. The rest of the labyrinth was his own to traverse: his memory the skeleton key. For a man whose trade is trickery, home was an architecture of vice. Sliding panels to practice eavesdropping. Escape-chutes to deploy ambushes. Every brick a conspiracy and every bolt a ruse.

Silco's fondest wish was that he'd one day give Jinx the tour. Show her that the artistry of the lie was just as essential as the mechanics of the crime. Power could be neither bought nor sold. It was the system of pulleys that gave the machinery the impetus to keep spinning.

Tonight the machinery has seized up. The gears have stalled. A suite full of dead bodies and deadheaded braids—and he was powerless.

He must make things right.

The hatch from the Chancellor's penthouse suite disgorged Silco to the subterranean endpoint at the bottom floor. From there, a twisting shaft that led out beneath the roadways. The stairwell echoed hollowly under his boots. Overhead steel rumbled and dust trickled. The darkness exhaled like a pair of lungs. The space Silco emerged into was an unfinished service passage at Entresol central district—grease-slicked cinderblocks and rough-hewn floors. He'd made a show of hiring the most talented stonemason in his network. But it was an entirely different breed of workmen who built this passageway.

He kept it as they'd left it. No torch or chem-light.

The path to freedom was as black as coal.

The passage terminated in a vault door. Silco worked the combination: 1-0-1-0.

Jinx's birthday.

The night air was hot and sludge-thick. Silco stepped into an ambit of light cast by a gooseneck streelamp. Mizzle fell, droplets alighting on his hair and shoulders. Old piss-stains rose wick-like up the walls like flames. The old alleyway reeked of rot. Silco knew the odor well—the same smell from when he was a boy, trailing after Vander to chase vermin for the ratcatchers.

He took it in stride. It was the reek of life.

A few louts anointed with booze were scattered on the cobblestones. At Silco's footfalls, they staggered to their feet. They didn't look like vagrants. More like scavengers—eyes sharp in skeletal faces—wearing vagrant's clothes.

"Arright, mate?"

Silco nodded.

"Had yer fill of the lights, eh?" One man clapped Silco's shoulder. "Lost yer way?"

"Close enough."

"Don't we know it!" A chorus of laughter. "Let's get you home, eh? We'll help you find the right track."

From inside his coat, the man withdrew a flask. There was an unmistakable whiff: tequila, sea-salt, slime. The sum total of every despair-inducing organism in this city.

That, and a shot of kerosene.

The man grinned—false bonhomie hiding bottomless malice.

"One sip," he said. "It'll make your night."

His companions circled closer. Their laughter ebbed. Their violence pooled in Silco's mouth. Heavy, salty, electric.

A taste he'd missed like his basest self.

Silco's eyes drifted up to the man. His lip curled, exposing serrated teeth.

"Don't I know it," he said.

In a blur, he smashed the flask into the man's jaw. The crack was as wet as the night.

His victim reeled, blood frothing from his mouth. He dropped in a heap. His companions froze in their tracks. The exchange had taken less than five seconds. Less time than it would've taken them to stick a pocketknife into Silco's gut.

It was a favorite tactic of water-rats—muggers. After dark, they preyed on suckers in the blind spots. Once upon a time, they'd been fine sport for Silco to practice his own knifework on.

Now it felt like picking bones off a plate.

In the aftermath, Silco stood, arms loose at his sides. His bad eye glowed red in the refracted lamplight.

"Off," he said. "Else I'll use you for kindling."

The remaining water-rats scattered.

Silco poured the swill from their flask into a dumpster. The fluid soaked the scraps of paper and discarded empties. He struck a matchstick, and let it drop. The stuff ignited with a whoosh.

Let the blackguards chase a pyromaniac tonight. It would keep them off his back—and out of the way.

Flames nibbled at the periphery of darkness. The silky laughter of fire gathered into a roar. Silco strode off without a backward glance.

The thoroughfare was a haze of motorcars and smoke. Oil-slicked puddles showed distorted reflections of pedestrians hurrying home after the curfew. Most wore hats, filtration masks or scarves in case of a Gnasher. Only a few stragglers went barefaced.

Bad weather was a sneak-thief's best friend.

Silco tugged the collar of his coat high, donned his own mask, and melted into the crowd. At Bridgewaltz, no one stopped him. At Emberflit Alley, blackguards crisscrossed the district, but gave him an indifferent berth. At Drop Street, he blurred into the scenery.

A scarred raw-boned man is no rarity in the Undercity. Even with his disguise, most don't recognize Silco by sight. His face isn't well known. Only his voice—and designation.

The Eye.

Chin low, shoulders high, Silco allows his features to slip now into a mask of flat-eyed vacancy. His body surrenders to the flow of the passing crowd. Small steps; slow movements.

Just a little fish in a big pool. Nothing to see.

Beyond the neon ripples of Entresol, the Sumps are chokingly quiet. Streets are scudded with low-lying smog. In the glow of a lantern, Silco takes his bearings. He is in the southern quadrant—a long way from the Oshra Va'Zaun tunnels. He has a half-night's worth of ground to cover before the network is alerted to his disappearance. There will be sentinels at every shortcut; guards in every bolthole.

Fortunately, Silco's sonar is guided by a different map.

Janna performs an act of gracious negligence by camouflaging his silhouette down the rooftops. He slithers without sound from parapet to plinth. Vaults the gaps between signposts like a phantom. The wind whips his hair in his eyes; cold, sharp, bracing. Silco welcomes the sting. He'd been naturally fluid once. But now he lacks the lightness of his younger days. Worse, his bad eye has skewed his depth perception. Momentum bleeds into vertigo. His arms and legs feel cooked. More than once, he has to recalibrate the distance between two points—lest he take a fatal tumble.

Age makes fools of everyone.

And yet the southbound journey holds a bittersweet catharsis. All the time overhead has dulled his sense of scale. His world has become a machine with a single gear: the endless grind. No rest, no respite. Just a mind fine-tuned to run and keep running.

Roof-runs are different. There is an art to keeping one's balance. It requires a sure step; a steady head.

An eye on the horizon.

Silco remembers the horizon of six years ago. Himself and Jinx, hand-in-hand—racing down this very stretch of rooftops. He remembers how they'd kept seamless pace with each other, her small hand folded through his. His shadow; his comet-tail. They'd race together across the crazy jumble of rooftops: teetering like tightrope walkers across the asymmetrical shingles, darting like moths around the gaseous radiance enrobing the gables, skittering like spiders down the storm pipes. He remembers squeezing Jinx's hand whenever she'd make a particularly spry move. Her giggles were like a blue ribbon, unfurling out and out into the night.

In those moments, dizzied with bittersweet kinship, Silco counted himself the luckiest bastard in the city.

(And I squandered it.)

Six years. A long time to keep an eye to the horizon. An eternity, even for the sharpest man. Silco was ready to give his own lifetime up for the return on investment. But he'd neglected the simplest fact of all: Jinx was never meant to be an investment. He'd done the damage, and reaped the rewards. Left her an orphan; made her a killer. And he'd known the cost, hadn't he? The rot creeping in the cracks. The reaper's silhouette darkening the door. He could outwit a dozen devils. But no conman can escape the consequences of his cut. No smooth-talker can talk his way out of the truth.

Nobody can ride the tide of denial forever.

(Forgive me, Jinx.)

Silco sinks deeper into Oshra Va' Zaun's bowels. Down the fire-escape of a shuttered station. Past the chrome glaze of a rusted turbine. His reflection travels the panes of cobwebbed metal like a shark under ripplets of water. His boots hit the dirt with no sound.

Leaning forward, palms on knees, Silco catches his breath. His brain pulses on adrenaline. The surge is familiar: a sparking song of nerves.

Call and response.

(Are you here, my lovely?)

The explosion site is cordoned off. Blackguards scuttle in the shadows like roaches. But Silco knows a dozen tortuous passages from his mining heyday. Jinx was fond of using them for games of hide-and-seek—with Firelights as her quarries. The tunnels were littered with their bones.

Now they are vaporized. Like everything else.

The perimeter of Jinx's hideout is a scorched crater. The catwalks are incinerated into charred rubble. The turbines are reduced to misshapen exoskeletons. The air reeks of a doused firepit. The leftover heat from the blast still radiates off the caverns. Now and then, pebbles skitter, presaging a more sinister collapse.

A similar sensation creeps through Silco.

Not dread.

Grief.

This hideout was his first gift to her. His acknowledgement of her specialness. Her acknowledgement of him as a father. By blowing it up, was she excising their bond? Or did it signify something deeper? Like Jinx spiriting off with Hex-gem. Like Silco setting foot in Zaun's depths. A return to the base elements—shadows and bilgewater for him, magic and gunpowder for her.

Mostly, he wonders if it's a trap. If Jinx is luring him out to deal the death-blow.

He's ready to chance it.

He creeps through the ruined hideout. Most exits are blocked off. Some lead to cul-de-sacs choked with debris. Others void into antechambers of noxious trapped gases. Only one tunnel remains intact. Silco peers through. It is barely large enough to squeeze through. The dimensions are pure darkness, thick and unending.

Silco steps back, taking a breath. A faint prickle of something ripples around the aperture, like the leftovers of a fireworks display. Blue motes glitter at the edges off his sightline.

The aftermath of a blast from the Hex-gem.

He doesn't hesitate. When it comes to Jinx, concern outweighs caution. Switching on his chem-light, Silco crawls into the tunnel. The inside is slimed with dampness and pitted with holes; some coin-sized, others the wide as hubcaps. Their interior yields a grainy dimness, giving no sense of depth.

Silco crawls on, alert for sounds. All he hears is a hollow whispering. Where it could be coming from—?

A spiky shimmer darts through the air. Silco squints. It is a dragonfly. At least it resembles one. But its carapace is glossier. It gives off a maddening whine, zipping by Silco's ear. He slaps it against the tunnel wall. The little bastard crumples like tinfoil.

A raspy croon floats in:

"Peek-a-boo."

A pair of hands flash out of the hole closest to him. They snatch his leg with astonishing strength. Silco makes a sharp involuntary sound. His chem-light skitters from his hands. The last thing he glimpses is a ghost-white face surfacing out of the darkness. A pair of eyes glow pink as cherry-bombs.

Jinx.

"Shoulda known it wouldn't be easy."

"What—?"

Then she yanks and Silco plunges into space.

He feels himself falling: a giddy weightlessness. It lasts no more than an eyeblink. He hits not ground but water, its icy shock sucking the breath from his lungs. He thrashes, disoriented. A little hand seizes his wrist. Then he is swept away—not by an undercurrent but Jinx's unyielding ferocity.

Out into an unknowable darkness.

Silco has grounded Jinx once—and only once.

It was also the only time he'd nearly struck her.

Jinx was thirteen. Her first teenage autumn; a milestone. Zaun had a rite of passage for each. Nothing like Piltover, where bored adolescents celebrated the trappings of maturity by sneaking off to indulge in vices like alcohol, sex or drugs.

Most sumpsnipes were already acclimated with such unsavoriness.

And worse.

In the Fissures, each coming-of-age was marked by something else. A test of courage. At seven, sumpsnipes came together in packs and leapt across the jagged firmament of rooftops, every iron spire and rusted stairwell beckoning with a broken neck. At ten, they swarmed any Topside automobile left carelessly parked in the alleyside, stripping it down to the bone with homemade chisels and gemmies. By sixteen, most had joined gangs, each with their own bloodthirsty initiations: maraudings, maimings, murders. By the Big Nineteenth, if they'd not already slugged a shot of gutrot hooch, cut a chem-baron's purse, ridden the Rising Howl, and cased a Topside joint for a smash-and-grab, they hadn't truly achieved their majority.

Thus, by the Big Nineteenth, the majority of sumpsnipes were dead.

The thirteenth-year marked the turning point. For those who survived it, childhood was done.

Jinx's childhood was already dead and buried.

At the edge of Zaun's outskirts, equidistant between Factorywood and the Sumps, sat a massive turbine, grimed with decades of filth. Large as a crater, with rotor blades the size of boats. It was part of a defunct structure known as the Treatment Stump, that once purified the foul-smelling run-off from Factorywood's smelteries. The whole complex was as primitively derelict as the rest of Zaun's infrastructure.

A monument to rust.

A tributary forking away from the Pilt sat under the treatment plant, corrosive with waste effluents. Upriver, at the Promenade, it was a smooth blue vein. As it snaked lower, past Entresol's Canal Zone, it narrowed, a lurking serpent of foulness, twisting ever downward along the Sumps until it finally reached Factorywood. There, it pooled and collected in a toxic bog at the Treatment Stump, before spiraling lower into the caverns of Oshra Va'Zaun, and merging with the underground river that spat out into the Deadlands.

On their thirteenth Name Day, sumpsnipes anxiously gathered at the edges of the Treatment Stump's turbine, watching the blades whip around, feeling the foul backdraft on their skins. The speed seemed sluggish at first glimpse; only up close did it betray its dangerous velocity.

The sumpsnipes would hold their breaths, gather their courage—then leap fluidly onto the blades.

Done right, a sumpsnipe landed feet-first, and became one with the rotors' rhythm. Jumping from one blade to the next, a spray-can in hand, they'd emblazon its surface with gang insignias, a multicolored impasto to mark the passage of generations. If miscalculated, the sumpsnipe fell through the gap between the rotors—and straight into the churning spume.

A handful of boys and girls did fall. Some drowned. Others were crippled for life.

When Vander was a boy, he'd made the leap successfully. So had Silco.

The trick was to center your focus not on the rotors but their rhythm. To learn it, without letting yourself become hypnotized by its inexorable whirr. You must not fall into the vortex; you must ride it. Once your feet hit the blades, you were safe, in the eye of ordered chaos. The rest was a joyride.

Nothing in Jinx's life was a joyride.

She'd leapt under Silco's watch. Not a milestone but an initiation. The first jump—and the first kill.

A chem-punk was fastened to the rotor. A snitch. He'd been caught slipping intel on Silco's Shimmer strongholds to the Slickjaws. During the last raid, Silco had lost twelve men. Six were taken captive and tortured to death. One was a girl, only fourteen. The Slickjaws had sown her mouth shut, taken her eyes, and left the rest of her splayed in a butchered wreckage outside the Drop.

Jinx had found her corpse.

Afterward, she'd made it her mission to smoke the snitch out. Her methodical approach was no different from Silco's. She'd used stealth instead of subterfuge, but otherwise she'd followed the same strategy. She'd infiltrated one of the Slickjaws' hideouts. She'd tracked their visitors. She'd watched for patterns. Then she'd followed them deep, and cornered the snitch—a Blind Man's bluff turned dead-man's-hand.

Silco had received him hogtied like a prize. TRAITOR was branded on his forehead with blood-red ink.

Jinx had tiptoed coyly up to Silco. "Do I get a reward?"

Silco had put a hand to her cheek. His touch wasn't tender so much as thoughtful. Eyes aglow, Jinx leaned into it. She was always like that: a black cat twining around him, mrrrowing for affection.

Silco had little patience for affection. Jinx was proving his sole exception.

"I'll do you one better, child."

"Huh?"

"You're a fast learner. But you're still not equal to the crew." He'd given her a solemn look. "You've been my little shadow. But shadows must shed their skin."

Jinx had giggled, but there was a brittle edge to it.

"What d'you mean?"

"You trapped the snitch. You captured him, alive and breathing. The Slickjaws will know you for an enemy. They will hunt you."

Jinx bit her lip. Old doubts clouded the clearness of her eyes.

"But...I-I'm not a fighter."

"You're not." He'd smoothed a hand through her hair. "You're better. You're a planner. There is no situation you cannot think your way out of. But sometimes, it takes more than guile to outmaneuver danger. Sometimes, it takes blood."

Jinx's breath wavered.

"It's time," Silco said. "You're ready for the first taste."

His eyes had passed from Jinx to the snitch. He lay on Silco's floor, bound hand and foot, mouth sealed with duct tape. At the intensifying burn of Silco's stare, he began to whimper.

"Let's make it a special one."

At his side, Jinx hadn't made a sound.

Now the snitch was spreadeagled to the turbine. A spit-soaked gag was wadded between his jaws. Bullseyes whorled across his scored skin. Silco's crew had taken their time on him, beating him and branding him. But they'd left him intact.

He was Jinx's quarry. Her treat.

Her kill.

"Two steps," Silco said. "Make the leap—and put a bullet in his brainpan."

The crew were present for the initiation: Sevika, Lock, Ran and Dustin. They'd joshed and jostled Jinx, but none dared push her toward the rotors. Not in Silco's presence. Sevika spoke matter-of-factly of how best to do it: time the rotor's sweeps and jump a split-second in advance. Don't look the target in the eye. Just take aim and squeeze the trigger. And if Jinx was too chickenshit, hey, she could put if off—put her acceptance into their world off—for another year.

A cruel goad. Jinx should've been too clever to fall for it.

Her defiant streak always outmatched her cleverness.

Glowering, she'd elbowed past the crew. Silco can still picture her. Perched like a cat at the edge of the railing, Puff-Puff in hand, the wan moonlight plating her pale skin. The backdraft from the turbine ruffled her bangs and stirred her braids. Goose pimples rose on her arms. The crew encircled her and began the traditional chant:

"Let 'er rip!"

"Let 'er rip!"

"Let 'er rip!"

The whole time they shouted, louder and louder, Jinx didn't take her eyes off the chem-punk. She took a breath, steadied her spine and bit her lower lip. Her body was static; her brain was the opposite, its fierce workings lighting sparks in her eyes.

At the last moment, she glanced up at Silco. The small nod he gave was rewarded with her smile at the highest wattage.

She leapt.

The crew fell silent. It was instinctual. Like watching a comet fall. One heartbeat Jinx was crouched on the railing. The next, she was perched crosslegged on the rotors.

One arm lifted, languorously. A pert middle finger aimed skyward.

The crew blinked. Then the cheers began. Sevika rolled her eyes, then grudgingly clapped along. Silco stayed just outside their half circle, his expression unreadable save for a small smile.

Inside his chest, pride stirred.

But this was half the test. The most critical was yet to come.

Jinx traipsed up to the chem-punk. He squirmed against his bindings, emitting high-pitched shrieks against the gag. Without any perceptible shift in expression, Jinx cocked Puff-Puff. Her eyes were blank as distant moons. They beheld her target the same way, as if he were a fragment of space-junk caught in her orbit.

Do it, Silco thought.

It was but one of the hundred steps to forging her into polished perfection. To peeling away the moony-eyed child to expose that tungsten chilliness that Silco knew was at her center. Power was a commodity in their world. By dint of its nature, supply was limited. All scarcity came with cost—be it a rival chem-boss putting a bullseye between your eyes, or a treacherous ally sticking a knife in your back, or greedy underlings seeking to steal your throne from under your feet.

They all wanted to own what you possessed.

They all took without paying the price.

Silco had taught Jinx the language of knives. He'd showed her the intimacy of violence, not just as a display of force but a measure of skill. Now she needed to master the final lesson. Anyone in the Undercity could wield a weapon. Anything in the Undercity could become a weapon. But at its core, a weapon was neither a toy for showy enjoyment nor a tool for sanctified self-defense. It was the purest and most absolute means of death.

He wasn't making Jinx a killer. He was teaching her the cost of survival.

About its winners—and losers.

Do it.

The chem-punk let off a choking sob and began to cry.

Jinx stared back. Her visage stayed empty. But Puff-Puff wavered in her grip.

The crew began muttering to themselves. Was this going to presage another meltdown? Ruthlessly competent as Jinx was with gadgetry, she had yet to learn that bloodwork was a different beast entirely. There was no room for error in the business of life and death.

Maybe, the crew whispered, she's not cut out for this business?

Maybe she was as they'd always suspected: a loose end.

Silco kept his peace. His focus was on Jinx. Every muscle in her body was tensed as if for rupture—or release. Her blue eyes, flat as mirrors, held a liquid sheen.

Tears were trickling down the chem-punk's cheeks.

Softly, Silco said, "Quick and clean."

Jinx's head jerked up.

"If you make a kill," Silco said, "do it right."

Jinx swallowed, once. Nodded.

"Finish it."

All hesitation fled Jinx's features.

In a practiced one-two, she took aim—and fired. The bullet slammed into the chem-punk's forehead. Blood splattered. His breath hitched in his lungs. His feet drummed the rotors.

He subsided into stillness.

Jinx released a shuddering sigh. With a well-aimed kick, she sent the corpse tumbling over the rotor's edge.

Down into sucking blackness.

Meanwhile, within the whirling blur of the rotors, Jinx's body flowed like graceful script. Armed with a spray-can, she decorated the surface around the blood-splatter with her monkey motif, trippy slashes of green overlaying deep-red. Then, like a little girl in a game of hopscotch, she danced from one rotor to the next, before somersaulting up and over the railing to land amid the crew.

They cheered louder than ever. Jinx grinned like a child with a Name Day cake. For the first time, she felt like she belonged in their circle.

Then Dustin made the error of errors: "Guess the cannery made good practice, huh?"

In hindsight, Silco should have slit his throat. It would've saved him a night of trouble.

Silence crept in. Sevika glared as if, by means of some anatomical freak-accident, Dustin's arsehole had pinwheeled where his mouth should be. Ran's jaw swerved to grinding teeth. Lock's features resolidified to stone.

Jinx stared, her face frozen around its previous gleeful expression. Her eyes seemed to turn inside out, like something old and rusted was unhinging. A cold electricity flowed in. Memory. Pain. Hatred.

Dustin shrugged. "Just saying. Li'l Miss already has a mighty fine body-count. I bet once she hits the Big Nineteenth—owfuck!"

In a flash, Jinx's boot hit his kneecap. His bad kneecap; the one she'd cracked two years ago with a mallet. In the same blink, she unscrewed her body from gravity, and backflipped onto the railing. Her stare held a fierce emptiness. She eyed the whipping rotors, but seemed not to see them.

Silco edged closer. "Jinx—"

To this day, he's not sure what happened. Maybe a pall of shadow fell over the scenery. A trick of light. A shift of wind.

Whatever the case—Jinx vanished.

Her shape spilled off the railing, and disappeared into a gap between the rotors. Swallowed by a dark so pure it was like staring into everlasting night.

Or death.

The crew stared, their heads cocked at quizzical angles. Like the first time Jinx had jumped, they seemed not to comprehend what they were seeing. Below, the turbines roared. Above, the space was paradoxically quiet. Then Sevika said, "Fuck," and it was like a ghostly susurrus from the depths.

A call to arms.

Adrenaline sliced through Silco. He whipped forward. He would've vaulted the railing and taken the same trajectory as Jinx at suicidal speed.

Sevika's arm caught him around the waist.

"Silso—don't!"

"Let go!"

"She's gone."

Gone.

Like a lost toy.

Gone and Jinx didn't belong in the same sentence.

Rage tore through Silco's ribcage. His elbow jerked, catching Sevika in the gut. She grunted; he broke free. For the first time since his boyhood, he was gripped by a mad tangle of impulses. The hot rush of horror like a buried river, the high-pitched buzz of fury like vultures circling a carcass, the cold slither of ruthlessness like a sea serpent riding a storm's waves.

His eyes cut mercilessly into the crew. "Find her."

Sevika argued, "Sir, there's no way she'd survive that fall—"

"Find. Her."

The crew had no choice but to obey.

The entire night, a search party combed the path running parallel to the tributary. Lackeys sprinted through the darkness. Torches shone. Every so often voices called a chorus of nicknames—Ghostberry? Bossgirl? Li'l Miss? The Pilt's soft lapping soaked up the cries.

Silco and Sevika covered the southern bend, where the spume churned through the turbine's filters and spat the waste into the soil itself. Nothing but sedge and sludge for miles. At the horizon, a streak of green smog bisected the moon. To the north, the Bridge arced against the surreal cupola of the sky. Squares of light from the warehouses at Factorywood glowed.

Silco's boots splashed through puddles shimmering with toxic hues. The runoff from the dump sites boiled off the vista. If Jinx had washed up on these shores, there's no way she'd survive. She'd have quaffed up the poisons and choked to death. A vision slotted through his mind: Jinx floating facedown, braids drifting like blue snakes, blood pooling from her open mouth.

Dead minutes after her first kill.

Lost our girl already? said a voice inside Silco's head—a gravely voice that he'd stopped hearing since he'd stabbed Vander.

Teeth gritted, Silco blocked it off.

Jinx wasn't dead. He knew it in his bones. Like him, the child was maddeningly unkillable. It would take more than a rusted turbine to cut her down to size. But her being lost was tenfold worse. She could be anywhere. Trapped in a factory cesspit. Despoiled by toxic spume. Strangling in stray wires.

He ordered Sevika to search the eastside. Silco took the west. His eyes kept a careful scan; his body moved in a deliberate rhythm, limbs loosening the way they always did when he was near water. Yet inside, something raked him like a broken spur.

It wasn't fear. He'd tasted that many times before. Mastered it and made it his own. This was different: edgeless and yet ordinary. Part of it was a generalized concern: Jinx was his brightest asset. He was responsible for her safety. The other part was irrationally specific.

Jinx was more than his asset. She was his.

His.

Silco's feet flashed through the bristling trash, navigating between coils of rusted metal and shards of bottles that scattered the river bed. He left the subdivisions and dumpsites behind. The darkened water of the streambeds gave way to something purer and yet dense with minerals. Instinctively, he was cutting a path parallel to the Oshra Va' Zaun caverns.

Down to the Deadlands.

They were a stretch of wasteland between the ore-mines and Zaun proper—a raw patch without a blade of grass or a speck of steel. The vista was hellish desolation: dead trees fossilized into gnarled silhouettes; sludgy pools choked with carcasses; a soil of chalky ash suited to funeral pyres. The name itself—Deadland—had its origin in the toxic gas pockets that leaked from the caverns.

The place was a death-trap, all the more lethal for its isolation.

Once, the Deadlands were home to the castaways of Oshra Va'Zaun. After the early settlers came, it became a squalid pit of cannibalism. Bones buried under blackened cairns; desiccated corpses nailed to posts like scarecrows. Here and there, rock formations loomed: less mountains than obelisks, thrusting up from the scorched earth as if some titanic spirit had roused itself from the mire.

The obelisks were carved with runes beneath layers of dust. Curses, lamentations, blessings—nobody could decide.

In Silco's boyhood, the Deadlands were forsaken except by wagons en route to the mines. On the outskirts, a string of bunkhouses were erected: less abodes than makeshift shacks. A network of tram lines crisscrossed the terrain. Others, collapsed beneath the weight of rock-falls, were ghost-tracks tracing live veins of riverwater—still pumping, and miraculously pure.

When Silco was younger, he and Vander would follow the route on hot summer days. They'd find the deepest, bluest pools to wash the grime off their skins. For Vander, it was an adventure. Silco simply wanted to be in the water. The streams soothed him like nothing else could.

By late noon, the skies would open into downpour. Silco and Vander would take refuge in the caves. They'd carve out shells of dried cavernfruit, and use them as bowls for rainwater. Other times they'd catch fish, and smoke them over a small fire. Afterwards, bellies full, they'd drowse side-by-side. The rainfall would blend with the rise-and-fall of Vander's breaths.

Back then, the Deadlands were Silco's favorite place. He loved how the wind whistled across the wastes. He loved its wildness and eeriness. He loved how, when the clouds broke and the sun shone, everything gleamed as if it coated in diamond dust.

At night, he and Vander counted the stars from the peaks of obelisks. Nestled together, they'd talk of tomorrow, until sleep came.

Now, the Deadlands were no better than burial grounds. A place where even the desperate gave up their last-ditch hopes. Bodies lay piled behind the rocks; bones rattled in the winds. The tram lines were skeletal husks, sunken deep in the soil. The bunkhouses were an expanse of collapsing sticks.

Only the obelisks stood whole—stretching up to break the sky's pall.

Unerringly, Silco's boots found the old path. If he kept going further downstream, he'd rediscover the old railway trestle where he and Vander used to jump off for a swim.

Silco's mind wasn't on swimming.

"Jinx? Jinx?"

A pressure gathered behind his ribcage. He was breathing raggedly, but it had nothing to do with exertion. How, he wondered, was he going to liberate the Undercity—birth Zaun into being—when he couldn't even safeguard a damn girl? Especially this girl, who'd proven such a godsend, a bona fide miracle. Who'd restored color to the edges of his world, while the rest of him dangled over the void, empty-hearted.

What would he do without her?

Dread congealed. Until that moment, he'd not understood how dangerously far he'd fallen under the child's spell.

(Is that fatherhood?)

That's when he heard it. A soft snuffling. At first Silco mistook it for the wind. Then it took a familiar shape. Crying. Scrambling to a halt, Silco cocked his ear. The sound was coming from somewhere behind an overhang of jutting obelisks. Water rippled; moonlight caught the zipping shapes of river-dwelling fish along the shores, their scales distorted by pustules.

Silco followed the sound, until it separated itself from the ambience of barren nature. His boots slipped on wet stones. Catching his balance, he rounded the bend.

There was Jinx.

She sat on a large boulder, cross-legged and toying with her braids. Sniffling, she skipped flat stones across the shoreline, each one bouncing eight or nine times before it sank. Silco crept toward her on silent feet. Like the folklore of hunters who chance upon Celestials, he was half-convinced the little imp would vanish if he startled her.

Two steps. Four steps. Ten.

At the crunch of boots on silt, Jinx spun. By then, Silco had hemmed her in: his body on one side, the water glittering behind her. His voice was a coiled garotte.

"Where have you been, Jinx?"

She flinched. Tears shone on her pink-mottled cheeks. The rest of her was bone-dry.

"I-I crawled out through the vent," she mumbled.

"What vent?"

"The one under the turbine." She sawed a hand under her nose. "It's part of a conduit. Most of 'em crisscross under the old Oshra Va'Zaun caverns. Some go to the Sumps. Some go here."

"Do you know where 'here' is?"

She tossed her head, defiant. "Sure I do!" Then, in a Powderish fit of doubt. "Mostly."

"You got lost, didn't you?"

Lip bit, Jinx fiddled with her braids.

Silco felt the skin tightening at his temples. His palms twitched. He stuffed them into his pockets.

"Did it occur to you," he said, deceptively composed, "that I might wonder what happened?"

She tipped a shoulder. "I figured you'd just leave. Not like it's the first time I've lit out."

It was true.

Restless pest syndrome—Sevika called it. Now and then Jinx would catch a twitchy case of wanderlust, and take off wherever little jumping beans did: the caverns, the turrets, the scrapyards. In boyhood, Silco used to be the same. Sometimes, he still went to ground, as it were. Took a day off to reconnoiter in blessed solitude. It proved harder the higher he rose in the Undercity. His absences would rouse Sevika's territorial instincts. Like a dragon she'd sink in her teeth and not loosen her grip unless he gave her a metaphorical kick in pursuit of privacy.

Jinx was harder to shake off. She followed him everywhere. To narrow her margin of persuasive tactics (including and not limited to tying him to chairs), Silco planned his absences at the last minute, when there would be no room for negotiation.

Jinx would sulk. But in her way, she understood.

They were loners at heart; misfits who'd learnt to befriend their own isolation. Even after years of communal living, neither of them had quite gotten the hang of belonging to a pack.

This was different.

Silco edged closer, his temper climbing to red. "Child, you'd drive a saint to murder."

"Huh?"

"Do you know what kind of filth wanders the Deadlands? You're lucky I found you before someone else did."

"I wanted to be alone, okay?! That stupid Dustin. He—hey. Why're you lookin' at me like that?"

"I thought—"

"What? I was dead?" She let off a burbling laugh. But her eyes flickered nervously. "I was just—"

She cried out when Silco snatched her up, so sharply she couldn't evade. His arm moved in an instinctive arc—the surge of momentum vicious in its familiarity. He'd have slapped her head clean off her shoulders. Same way he'd done numberless lackeys who'd crossed him.

But at the last second, he felt her flinch. The tautness of her body. The rabbiting of her pulse.

Rage gave way to a different reflex. He shut his good eye, shut it tight and dragged her against him. As soon as her small body was in his embrace, his breath seized. His arms became a stranglehold.

"Owwww!"

"You're grounded."

"What—?!"

"Don't ever do that again!"

Nearly breaking his own maxim—We don't hit each other—and he wonders what would've happened if he'd carelessly struck her. The same way Vi had. The same way Vander had.

The capacity was in him. The desire. The rage.

Yet it was eclipsed by a disorienting enormity of terror. How could one child leave him so out of his depth? What did it mean, that she held in her hands the power to undo him so utterly?

(Is that fatherhood?)

Jinx shivered against him. Fear gave way to confusion. A stillborn swat was still a swat. After Vi, she was terrified of screwing up and reliving the same violence at someone else's hands. Except the violence boiled not because of her presence—but her absence. Jinx's mind couldn't reconcile the contradiction. He saw in in the frantic tangle of her emotions: her liquid eyes, her pinched little chin, her trembling lip. He felt it in the crazy thubbing of her heart: a cadence that matched his own.

For a moment, Silco couldn't speak. He just gathered her in closer, his face in her hair.

"Don't, Jinx."

"D-Don't—?"

"Don't disappear like that again."

Jinx craned her neck. The brightness in her eyes spilled from the corners to streak her cheeks. "Wh-why should it matter to you?"

"I—"

"You're n-not my dad. I'm not your kid. So why—"

"Why?!"

With a snarl, Silco swept her in again. But it was all right. She wasn't shrinking away. Her strong skinny arms were wrapping around his neck, and she was burrowing closer, their foreheads together, cold on hot, an inarticulate melding of relief.

It was a relief. Just a misunderstanding. His murderous little sprite was safe. By his side.

Right where she belonged.

(Is that fatherhood?)

(Is it?)

Everything hurts.

A spectrum of hurts. Silco's eyes open, and show him a brighter spectrum of moons—where in hell am I?—cycling around in a pinwheel before they resolve into one. A susurrating echo laps at his ears. He twists his head, trying to see where it is coming from. Tries to leap to his feet, but his body is immobile.

He is chained, padlocked and bolted.

Fuck.

The air holds a chill of mineral wetness. Silco shivers in his drenched clothes. Shafts of moonlight slip through a dappled scudding of clouds. With effort, he cranes his neck. He is sprawled on the spine of a steep ravine. The surrounding landscape is all grayscale: powdery grit, monolithic stone, scoured underbrush.

Like the inside of a skeleton's mouth.

The whispery echo persists. Cocking his ear, Silco recognizes it. The river Pilt. He is somewhere north of Oshra Va'Zaun's mines. They peel away into a cratered expanse of flatland and oxbows that run parallel to the river's shores. The verge where civilization gives way to wilderness.

The Deadlands.

Threads of moonlight hang in the air. He hears the reverberation of the river. Beyond that bleeds a profound silence. The silence particular to desolation: the creatures barely alive, the earth barely alive too.

The not-sound is terrible. Silco has become accustomed to the vibrant soundtrack of Zaun. He is surrounded by clamor all day long now. The drone of construction, the screech of traffic, the skirls of music. And while it can be maddening, it is life.

This is the opposite. The forsaken silence he'd once loved, and now loathes. Not even Vander's ghost is here to console him.

From the gloom: footsteps.

"Wakey, wakey, bats and bake-y."

Jinx looms over him. Her moonlike faces recoalesce from five to three to one. Relief is overpowering. She is alive. Silco's heart pounds in his chest; so wildly he thinks it might break through his chains.

"Jinx—where have you been?"

"Needed a change of scene."

"A change of—?" His scowl bridles. "What are you playing at? Every blackguard in the city is looking for you!"

"Oh. Them." She snorts. "Chasin' their tails. Bunch of morons."

In the half-shadow, her eyes are strangely sparkless. The contours of her face seem off. Silco squints. But she has already moved out of his line of sight.

He strains against the chains. His ankles are manacled together, arms tied behind his back, wrists at an uncomfortable twist. After Stillwater, he'd grown adept at slithering out of whatever restraints he'd been manhandled into. It was a simple matter of disjointing a thumb or dislocating a shoulder.

Except Jinx knows his history. The bindings are doubled and tripled. She's taking no chances.

Chances on what? Why is she out here?

"Jinx." He's in such turmoil he can barely string three words together. "You need to come home."

"Home?"

"Back to headquarters."

"Fat chance."

"What?"

She hovers back into view. Silco stares closely at her. She is a disheveled mess. Dressed in her street clothes, much-frayed and dirt-smeared, jacket around her body, boots at her feet. Her skin under its milk-and-freckles is flushed in ugly pink chameleon patterns. The old childhood mottle of distress. Her hair bursts in blue shards around her skull as if zapped by electricity.

Silco squints as if blinded. Then he remembers.

Gods.

Her hair. She'd butchered it.

Butchered the guards. Blasted her hideout to kingdom come. Now she's lured him out, with a prankster's whimsy that is pure premeditation. That's how Jinx operates. A method to the madness. She can seem deceptively ebullient for long stretches of time. Lull everyone in her periphery with a sense that all is well. Meanwhile the disconnect between inward and outward cracks into a molten chasm, so all her ghosts spiral out.

Catching fire—then exploding into catastrophe.

This is a catastrophe. A failure on Silco's part to spot the signs. Any chance of a goodbye kiss? Sweet Kindred, he'd been so stupid last morning. Why didn't he just cancel his meetings and stay with Jinx? Just tell his love and pride without wielding it like a blade up the sleeve? He knows he'd done that. He'd done it for years, done it again despite vowing to change, so no wonder—no wonder his poor girl—

"Jinx." He speaks with a quiet forcefulness. "We need to talk."

"Reaaaaally not in the mood."

"I know you're upset with me—"

"Upset?" The sulky softness of her face sharpens—a maniacal mask. She stays crouched close, her body giving off a peculiar hum like a tuning fork between strikes. "Why would I be upset, Daddy?"

"You tell me."

"You haven't figured it out? You're smarter'n that."

"Not about this." Silco folds without resistance. "Please, child—talk to me."

"I am talking to you." She glowers. "What's today?"

"It's—"

Bloody Sunday.

The whole city knows that. He can't puzzle any significance beyond that. It's not the Day of Ash—that's in September. It's not Jinx's Name Day—that passed in tandem with Progress Day. It's not the day they met—a date that also holds the dark privilege of being Vander's death anniversary

"I confess," he says. "I can think of nothing."

"Exactly!" Jinx snaps her fingers so rapidly sparks leap off them. "That's the first word that pops into my head when I wake up lately. Nothing. Well. Second word. The first is Fuckin.' Another day of doing fuckin' nothing!"

"I asked you to come along with me—"

"And do more fuckin' nothing? Pffff. I'd rather be a ghost. Ghosts can do whatever they want, right?"

"Is that why you blew your hide-out up?"

"No." A reflex of guilt twists her face. "I mistimed the explosives."

"What?"

"The explosion was gonna go off later. You'd be at HQ. You weren't supposed to be down here."

"You had this all planned?"

A nod.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Your hideout. Your braids. Your drawings." Silco drags a jittery breath. "Jinx, what are you doing?"

Jinx dips a finger into the hollow of his throat, where water collects. She dabs her wet fingertip down his scarred cheek like a tear. Her eyes glow dully; two doused embers.

She whispers, "Thought that was obvious."

"Far from."

"I'm saying goodbye."

Silco's mouth opens. No words come. A mineshaft collapses inside him, a thunder of dust and a blackness that tastes of fear, a cold edgeless fear like nothing he's ever known before. Not on the day Jinx vanished between the turbine rotors. Not on the night he'd found her at the Bridge, death a gasp away.

No.

No.

Silco's whole body is one throbbing heart. His struggles redouble against the chains

Jinx watches him with a strange subspecies of pity. Her hand cups his jaw. Their eyes meet. Silco's own are wild and blasted; hers are eerily calm. Leaning in, she touches their foreheads together. Old intimacy reduced to a sad mockery of leavetaking.

"Poor Silly," Jinx says. "I wasn't gonna do it this way."

"Jinx—please—"

"I was gonna break it to ya gently. After our twelve o' clock talk. I even wrote a script. See?"

From her pocket she digs out a scrap of paper flecked with paint, and unfolds it. Clearing her throat, she recites with mock-solemnity:

JINX: Dear Silco! Thanks for all the laughs and lessons and lunacy. I had fun being your Jinx. You showed her how to come into her own. And together, you showed Topside. You showed 'em all! But now it's time to skip the light-fantastic. There's no place for Jinx in Zaun. But there's a place for me in the After. Don't be sad. We'll see each other someday—when Ol' Hungry stops striking twelve!

SILCO: I understand, child. Good luck and fare thee well.

JINX: You were an okay Dad.

SILCO: And you were an A-Okay daughter.

JINX: I wish we'd met sooner. We had a lot in common—besides murdering our brothers and all. Our time together was too short. Ex-oh-ex-oh…

She falters, and bites her lip. Despite the cruel lampoon, her grief is palpable. "There's more. Mostly you lecturing me to dress warmly for the After. Then we hug and bid each other adieu." She smiles, but it has too many cracks. "You want that hug now?"

"Jinx." It's an effort to move his lips. "Untie me."

She shakes her head, a scolding side-to-side. "You can't have it back yet."

"Have what back?"

She reaches into her pocket and comes out with a glowing blue sphere. The Hex-gem. A single ray of moonlight pierces its interior to scatter in glittering fractals through the air. Jinx holds it overhead, turning it over between nimble fingers.

"On principle," she says, "I oughtta take it with me. Finders, keepers."

"Jinx—"

"It was my gift to you. But it talks to me."

"Jinx—I don't care about the gemstone. Just untie me. Please."

Her smile deepens. But there are layers of darkness in her eyes. "You're such a good liar."

"I'm not lying!"

"Pffft." Jinx mimes a hoop shot with the gem, then attempts to twirl it on one finger like a baseball. "The only reason you're even here is 'cause you thought I'd use Gemmy to blow up your precious Zaun."

"I'm here to take you home."

She makes a derisive sucking sound between her teeth. "Home? What's home where I'm not wanted?"

"I want you home!"

"Sure—but you don't need me! If you just want me around as salad dressing while you're playing First Chancellor—if you just want me in the background, then you don't really want me. You never did!"

It hits like a blow to the chest. "How can you say that?"

For the first time, emotion crackles in her eyes. She begins pacing, flinging the gemstone rapidly from hand to hand. "Because it's true! Every day since the war ended, you've told me over and over and over again that you don't need me—all without saying a word. Take it easy, Jinx. Don't rush, Jinx. No pressure, Jinx. The same thing you say to a sick doggy before you take it out back and shoot it!"

"Jinx, I never meant to—"

"The only thing I was trained for. The only dream I had. The only way to prove myself. That was all tied up with Zaun." There are tears now, bright and gelid, glossing the rims of her eyelids. "Now Zaun's real, and everybody's just, Thanks for your service, now fuck off. And do what? Retire? Go on hiatus? Take a vacation? What's left for Jinx?!"

Silco stares at her. His damp clothes are heavy as the chains folded around his body.

Not as heavy as the grief.

He knows the parameters of Jinx's insecurities as intimately as his own. His are enough to fill a room; hers are enough to crowd a castle. But that's different from seeing them up-close—a raw reality of carnage.

The suite splattered in blood. Her braids amputated. Her hideout jellied.

All things he could've prevented. He'd seen the patterns in their private life and yet refused to connect them. He'd isolated her for the sake of letting her rest (kept her on a short leash). He'd shaped a stable daily routine of cooking, conversation, cuddles (stabilized the surface while her inner-wounds festered). He'd given her a room with a locked door (when Jinx's ghosts are most attracted to things with locks.)

Worst of all, he'd waited for her to come to him. As a father, he should've sought her out first. It is his duty to check in with his child as often as with his crew. More—because Jinx is fragile. Jinx needs him. The onus of Jinx's welfare—tonight's utter shitshow—is all squarely on him.

Shame congeals. His words come choked.

"Jinx—forgive me. I never meant for things to go this far—"

"Yeah, sure. So sorry you're barely ever around. It's all just Zaun, Zaun, Zaun. You're behind the scenes. You're in the spotlight. Got a real sweet life going for yourself, don'tcha?"

He swallows hard. "Jinx, listen to me. This is important."

"Oh, piffle." She peers through the Hex-gem as if through a crystal ball. "Don't bother making excuses, Mr. I'm-too-busy-for-you. They won't work. So you might as well spare yourself the drama and let it happen. It shoulda happened a looooong time ago."

"Don't say that." He tries to meet her eyes, to force a connection. If not for the chains, he'd claw at her, sink his teeth into her. Anything to keep her. "The city needs you. Our people need you. Not just because you're the brightest mind we have—"

"—and look where that's got me, huh?"

Silco's fists tighten against the manacles. "But because you're our future. Without you, Topside has won. They've destroyed us before we've even rebuilt. Like they've destroyed everything before. But not you, Jinx. You're stronger than they are. Stronger than this. You still have your entire life waiting for you."

A sudden rage lights Jinx up from toes to the tips of her bristling hair. "A life—to do what? Join the blackguards? Attend soirees as First Daughter? Do scutwork as your private secretary? You say my whole life is waiting for me—but that's not my life. Nothing since Vi walked away from me has been my life!" Her mouth quivers; she crams her thumb into it. "She knows it too. That's why she didn't say goodbye. She left. Again."

It takes Silco so long to connect the words that Jinx could slap him twice before he finishes.

Again.

Fuck.

She knows Vi was here.

Their stares meet. Silco's calm fractures.

"How—" he rasps, "How did you—?"

"How'd I figure it out?" Jinx's smile is glitteringly sharp. "Oh, y'know. Bugs on the sill. Bats in the attic. Her name got whispered down plenty of secret corridors. Rumors passed from ear to ear until they reached mine. And mine are pretty sharp now, if I do say so myself." A shrug. "Also, the blackguard blabbed."

"The blackguard..."

"Yeah. One of 'em was really into my swimmy time." She twirls her mangled hair and pastes on a little girl smile. "Chatty fella. Especially after I promised not to shoot him... anyplace fatal."

Silco utters a frustrated sound. "That fool."

"Hey! No harshin' on the dead! At least—I'm guessing he's dead. I let him live. No way you'd do the same." Her smile fades. "He told me... Vi was at Entresol a few weeks ago. She'd brought a drone. She was spyin' for Topside—and that stupid Enforcer girl was working with her." She blinks blindishly. "She came. She saw. She left-right-left. And you knew." She jabs a finger at him. "Liar."

Silco tries a dozen glib excuses that run empty.

"Jinx," he says. "I kept it secret for a reason."

"Let me guess. To protect me?"

"Yes."

"From what? My feelings? How crazy I am?"

Rooted to the spot, he explodes, "From ending up dead on the Bridge! Or have you forgotten how she left you bleeding—or who found you and took you back?"

"Back to Singed's table?"

"Back with family." His shout escalates to match hers. "Real family. Not ones who get you killed and never look back. Yes—your sister was here. Yes—she was working with Topside. Yes—I didn't tell you. Because I could only deal with the biggest crisis—not the fallout!"

"Who—Vi?"

"You." His breaths come ragged. "One glimpse of her undoes all the progress you've made! Just a rumor and you're right back where you started. Worse—because now you're undoing even that." He jerks at his chains. "I won't allow it, Jinx. You've had your tantrum. You've swung the city upside-down and put me through my paces. Now it's time to come back where you belong."

Jinx's face smooths so suddenly into an impenetrable mask that she resembles a mannequin.

"I know where I belong," she says. "It's not with Vi. Or with you."

"Jinx—"

She darts beyond his sightlines. Silco struggles and rolls onto his side. A band of moonlight falls through the clouds. He is greeted by an unsettling sight. He is facing a sheer cliff; its blackness so total it swallows the night. Pebbles skitter down the incline. They drop into the pit, engulfed by silence.

A hand seizes the back of his collar. With dizzying strength, Jinx hauls him up. "Tsk, Silco. This ain't your goodbye."

"Jinx—listen—"

"Shh-shh." She hums, identical in cadence to how Silco would soothe her in childhood, whenever she'd whip herself up into a panicky froth. "It'll be over in a minute. Here's the gem, 'kay?" She slips it in his jacket pocket, as if restoring a toy to a squalling toddler. "I'll put the keys in your hand too. But you won't be able to get loose until after."

"After—?"

After she's offed herself.

Silco thrashes madly. But Jinx's strength overmasters his. Once upon a time, he'd hefted her into his arms as easily as a ragdoll. Now it's the opposite. He's helpless against a girl so tiny she belongs in a music-box. It would be funny—except the Shimer zinging in her veins is no joke.

One false move, and she'll carelessly crack him in two.

She drags him up the cliffside. Gently sets him down against a blunted edge of rock. Silco folds to his knees, rough gravel jabbing against his aching joints. Jinx slips a cold key into his cuffed hands, which flex clumsily around it. With a dozen padlocks around his body, she's reasoned that he won't be able to break loose fast enough.

Kingpins do not possess the talents of Houdini.

Jinx skips light-toed down the cliffside. Shadows pool around a collection of shapes huddled at the edge. Silco squints. For a few pulseless seconds, he can't comprehend what he's seeing. Either it is a negative space that the protective part of his brain has erased from his sight. Or he sees it, and is too paralyzed with cowardice to recognize it.

Jinx hadn't blown up everything in her hideout.

A handful of mementos remain.

All of them are from her drawings. The two grotesque mannequins she'd repurposed into replicas of her dead 'brothers.' Between them are Vander's gauntlets, mottled with rust. The squalid lump of a stuffed bunny is perched between them. The rest is a bric-a-brac of grisly nostalgia. Old toys splattered in blood. Finger-paintings of dead Firelights. Doodled-on bombshells—Whisker, Buttons, Punch.

Everything is piled into an old red wheelbarrow. It is retrofitted with a small motor and heavy-duty tires. The tray is splattered with acid-green graffiti—XOXO.

All of Jinx's history—all of her heartbreaks—ready to tip over the edge.

Like her.

"Jinx, don't do this!"

Shaking her head, looking everywhere but at him, Jinx climbs into the wheelbarrow. Six-dozen sticks of TNT are corded together in a tight bundle. A cheap plastic egg timer—from Silco's own goddamned kitchen—is wired to the fuses and strapped to the dynamite with swathes of duct tape.

Jinx twists the knob with precise turns of her wrist.

"Five minutes," she says.

"What—?"

"You get five minutes to skeddadle."

Five minutes until the wheelbarrow rockets off the cliffside.

Five minutes until Jinx is blown to smithereens.

Five minutes until Silco's universe folds into flames.

No.

Terror seizes him, a bone-deep electricity that sets every nerve center on fire. Earlier, he'd not allowed himself to panic. But it was instinctual self-preservation. The same backlash as against prodding a seeping wound. Now he can feel it engulfing him, a full-bodied convulsion. The surface of his face refuses to harden; his emotions are a wretched nakedness.

It is like the night Vander attacked him at the Pilt. The night the Temple of Janna was bombarded by shelling. The night he'd found Jinx blood-smeared at the Bridge.

He screams: "Stop!"

The unhinged sound rips through the night. Jinx's head swivels. Her eyes are no longer glowing pink. The pupils are dilated, a blackness so absolute it encompasses each iris. It turns her stare into a horrid pit, a hungering for someone to swallow.

Or save her.

That's why she'd orchestrated tonight's nightmarish tableau. Her drawings to presage her plans. Her braids to exorcise the past. Her gun to bid farewell. That's why she'd made him run this macabre gauntlet: two truths and a lie, their old game taken to grotesque extremes. The key is in his hands; her life hangs in the balance.

Tonight is his last chance. The narrowest rescue. A toss of the coin.

And she has put the onus on him.

Him—not Vi, or everyone else who'd ever failed her.

She wants him to prove he is different. She wants to punish him for falling short in every possible way. She wants to show him how much pain he's caused her. How horrendously he's used her for his own end, while failing to see the same end reflected back at him tenfold. The same end that shaped her out of a child and into his shadow, his anima, his apotheosis, so now she can't find a way to unmake herself, except by this.

This.

"Stop! Just—stop!" Silco jerks against the chains. "This isn't the way out!"

Jinx hums in lusterless singsong. "Got a few explode-y buddies that say otherwise."

"Your friends are wrong! So are you! After doesn't square debts or rewrite regrets. After is just that. After."

Jinx stares at him.

"How dare you do this, Jinx? How dare you buy a fool's lie?" A sudden rage boils like acid. "Ending your life won't undo anything! Broken things can't be unbroken. What you left behind will remain—only it will be unfinished because you didn't see it through!"

He watches her face change, the fluid trick of moonlight that makes her eyes spark from despairing holes to fire opals. Her jaw hardens and her mouth folds down. With jerky movements, she climbs out of the wheelbarrow and stalks toward him. "Easy for you to say! You've got something to stay behind for. Zaun's your big dream. Your unfinished story. Now you can write any way you choose!"

"Zaun's nothing without you!"

"Me—who?" She stamps her foot. The soil ripples, a tiny seismic tremor. "Why don't you get it? Jinx is dead! She died at the Bridge. You're chasing her ghost!"

"That's not true!"

"Don't tell me what's true and what's not!" Her breaths come ragged, like she's about to heave up her guts. "Jinx is dead. I am. I never woke up after the night on Singed's table. I never got better. I'm dead, like Vander, and Mylo, and Claggor, and I get deader every day. I lost me after I lost Vi, it's all run out. Sand in the hourglass, and every day I lose more—"

"Child—no—"

"I'm dead, and what's left is a disappointment to you. I always was. Take Jinx away, and it's just stupid Powder and her screw-ups and everyone she couldn't save. Everyone who left her behind." A sob wallops her. "I see their faces. I hear their voices. I can't shut 'em out. Quick and clean, you taught me. Make a kill. Do it right. Except there's no right. There's only wrong. All my life, I've only ever been wrong. And now I've done the worst of it." She holds up a fist, opens and closes it. "I can't get the blood out, Silco. I can't see past it. There's only more and more and more and if I don't stop now—"

"You're afraid you'll never stop." Silco's heart is a wringing rag. Oh Gods, she is sick, sick with wounds. And it's all his fault. "Oh my love. I know. I know it hurts. If I had any idea of how much you were suffering—"

"Don't pretend to understand!"

"I do understand. I—I remember the night I killed Vander. I thought I'd never be able to see my way clear of the blackness again. But you showed me I could. It took time, but we did it together. We'll do it again." He tugs at his chains. If he speaks fast enough, if he pleads hard enough, he might outrun the last few minutes. Might salvage the ruins of his life. "Jinx, listen to me. We're all different now. Zaun is different. Don't take away your future because of your past. You're hurting, you've held it together admirably, but, sweetness, just hold on a little longer. I promise—"

"You're not listening!" Her chest heaves, breaths thick with stymied tears. "I'm tired of holding on! I'm tired of bein' left behind. I'm tired of feeling this way, so trapped and angry and broken all the time. I'm so tired—" She stops, the words dying in her throat. "I'm tired of turning my back on everything you start and I finish."

"Jinx—"

"That's our waltz, Silco. Round and round. You spark the tinder. I burn the house down. You dragged Vander to the cannery. I sent him to his grave. You wanted to tear his family apart. I blew them up." A sick laugh judders through her. "Me and my big booms. You and your big plans. Only, I don't get the happy ending." Her eyes take on a flat sheen. "There's only one end to Jinx's story."

"It doesn't have to be that way!"

"It does." She swallows. "Look, I know what you're trying to say. All the good things I could do, if I stay. You want to tell me that I can find something worth living for. Well. I tried that. And I failed. I tried and tried. Every day, I woke up, and I tried to find a way back to who I was. And the harder I tried, the worse it got." Her sobs come muffled, as if against a pillow. "It's no good. I've lost me. The me you wanted. I wasn't the girl you thought, Silco. I'm sorry."

Silco's muscles strain against the chains. His fingers work clumsily with the key behind his back. "You are what I thought, Jinx. I knew it the moment we met."

"You saw what you wanted to see."

He shakes her head. "I saw you. I saw the bomb, and I saw your potential. But I saw you before everything else, Jinx. You were a skinny little twig. You had patchwork clothes and dozens of clips in your hair and scrapes on your elbows and knees. I remember because it reminded me of when I'd climb the rooftops with Vander and lose my balance as a boy. I was a hopeless clod. You were too. But—" He's been speaking more and more softly; now his pitch is barely above a whisper. "You were also just you. Brave enough to climb up and rescue your sister. Smart enough to build a bomb that took my fledgling empire down in a single night."

Jinx's face is pale where it isn't streaked with Shimmer tears. "That's why you stole me, isn't it? You didn't see a smart, brave girl. You saw a blank sheet. Vi left me, and she left a big-ass label stamped on my forehead. JINX JINX JINX. You wrote in the rest. Just the kind of girl you wanted, all bullets and booms. A monster for Zaun. Now Zaun's real, but I don't think that girl is."

"She's right here."

"Half-right." Her mouth is a dark misshapen heart. "You can keep her bones."

"Jinx—"

"As a souvenir. For Zaun."

"Fuck Zaun."

Shock drains Jinx of animation. Maybe she is incredulous at the profanity passing his lips. He's doesn't curse in her presence. Or maybe her incredulity stems from the statement itself.

Fuck Zaun.

A sentence so improbable it verges on treasonous.

It isn't treason. It is truth.

He'd chased Zaun as his lifelong dream. His be-all and end-all; the Undercity's last shot at survival. It was why he'd fought so fiercely for his people. To make sure they weren't destroyed by Piltover's hubris. He'd given himself to the dream, in ways he'd given himself to nothing else. He'd powered himself on blind ambition. Blind faith. Blind rage.

Yet here is the flipside of fathering a dream.

Fatherhood.

He'd never wanted to be a father. Fatherhood was a wasting disease. Fatherhood sucked the marrow from the bones. Fatherhood replaced courage with—

What?

Not cowardice, as Silco had one believed. Not the distilled piss and vinegar of disillusionment.

In his bones, he feels it like a steadying gravity. It doesn't weigh him down. It keeps him going. It powers him like fuel and yet enrobes him like lightning. A shock-pink risk. A flowering blue reward. Silco thrives in risk, but it isn't the reward that's worth having.

It is Jinx.

I am a father. The phrase wheels through his mind, shorting it out of reality and into truth. I am a father and there has never remotely been a miracle like her in my life. Someone I love over my own ambition. Someone who turns my thoughts inside-out. Someone who changes my nature in ways even Nature could not change before. I cherish her over anything else. To lose her is to lose—

Everything.

Jinx stands paralyzed. Her silhouette seems to meld with the moonrays, then separate, then meld again. Silco blinks against the disorienting vision. The hours he's crossed crunch up, and threaten to crunch the last pieces of his sanity. He refuses to succumb.

Refuses to let his dream slip from his fingers.

Jinx.

With love like a knife in his chest, he meets her eyes. "I came down here for you, Jinx. I wake each morning and make Zaun strong for you. I come home each night and make plans for you. But if you leave me—it's all for nothing. Your life and mine. I was wrong to expect so much of you. I was wrong to push you so hard. You were only a child. Your whole life I took and bent in my hands." His good eye narrows. The bad one burns without mercy. "But I never bent you, Jinx. You were always you—at your center. You earned your first lessons with Vi, and practiced to perfection with me. But your spirit? Your fury? That was all you. It's why we're such a pair, remember? We were both left behind. So we vowed to show them all. Now we've done what we vowed, and must live with it. We can choose the same as before. Or we can choose different. But if you end it, there's no choice at all."

Jinx's cheeks are blotched. Tears fill her bright round eyes. "I'm t-t-trying to unjinx it. For Vi. For Vander and Mylo and Claggor. All the things I did. The things I couldn't do."

"You're trying to evade it. Evade me. Evade everything they are to you. Everything we are to each other." Silco's tone sharpens in urgency. He can't stand the thought of her lifelong efforts, the blood spilled and the torments endured, ending on the stale note of his daughter's suicide. "You've forgotten what you are. Not just a jinx—bad or good. You're a survivor. A fighter. You've forgotten how courageous you are, or else you'd never come here. Forgotten how special you are, else you'd never bribe me with a Hex-gem in trade for your life. There's no specialness in leaping into hell. Champions have no place in hell, remember? That's my dominion in the After. Yours is Zaun."

Jinx shies away as if burnt. "I don't belong in Zaun, either. I'd never rest there. They—" A sweep of her arm encompasses the mementos in the wheelbarrow, "—won't let me!"

"It won't be that way forever. I promise."

"You make plenty of promises, Silco." Her bleary eyes slit. "They're like bombs. You drop 'em to get what you want."

Silco's throat works; his voicebox is a noose. Duplicity is never far from his surface. But he can't summon it now. In its place is an agony he can no longer conceal. He looks at her, sees his own reflection. She is a fragment, a mirror, an echo of a thousand old wrongs.

A reminder to do better.

"No bombs, Jinx," he says hoarsely. "Just the truth. I owe you that."

"The truth?"

"I promised, didn't I? We'd talk when I got home?"

Jinx breathes in edgy gasps. But she makes no move to stop him.

"The night Vi left you on the Bridge," Silco says. "I made the choice to take you to Singed. Not because I couldn't afford to lose my finest fighter. I couldn't bear to lose you. Afterward, Piltover demanded a parley. Once, I'd never have entertained it. I would have sent back their missive drenched in blood. But after the state you'd been reduced to… I was ready to negotiate peace."

"So why didn't you?" Jinx cries. "Why choose war? We won by the skin of our teeth! If I hadn't fought for you—"

"I'd have lost anyway."

"What?"

He stares at her, the girl whose torment mocks his own. "Don't you see, Jinx? You are my jugular vein in plain sight. All of Zaun knows it. Topside knew too. After leaving you on the Bridge, your sister was taken before the Council. She revealed your name. She understood the damage your loss would do to our operation. To me. The evening of our parley, Talis offered me Zaun. A place at the table. A nation of our own. All on a silver platter—with you as the caveat." He spends his breath in a harsh laugh that feels like his last. "The worst deal in the world? Hardly. I've negotiated worse. But not if you were the cost, Jinx. At the time, I'd rationalized your survival as Zaun's survival. One could not exist without the other. But my motives were more selfish. You weren't theirs to take. Not for anything. You are my daughter."

The words are is undisguised rage, and Jinx can't look away. Her mouth spasms; her eyelashes glisten like wet spiders.

"My daughter," Silco repeats. "All my sacrifices, all my triumphs, all my sins. None of them compare. History is full of fathers who martyr their children for the greater good. Not me, Jinx. I rejected their treaty the same night. No—not rejected. I threw it in their faces and declared war. I'd rather have you than all their laurels of peace. I'd rather keep you at my side in blood and flame, burning thousands for the cost of one, because what's dead is dead, and what's mine is mine. I know that makes me a failure as a leader. But I'll not pretend not to need what I do." His voice drops, quietly ragged. "And I need you, Jinx. Vi may forsake you. The rest may condemn you. But I will always choose you first. Whatever happens... for as long as I live."

The cliffside is all lunar silence. The wind has died to nothing. The air is an oven; it heats the airless pit of Silco's chest.

Jinx does not move.

"You—" She swallows. "You chose me?"

Silco's lips fold tightly; he can't trust his voice. His life is a dirge of lost loves. He's learned to reveal nothing, to trust no one, to take the blows like a man and riposte tenfold like a monster. Jinx is the sole exception. The only one to turn his weakness into strength. He'd fought to keep her from Piltover. Now, he'll fight to keep her.

Fight to the last drop of Shimmer in his veins.

"I am choosing you now," he breathes. "You, Jinx. Nobody else."

Jinx's knuckles wedge against her temples. Tears streak her cheeks in pink contrails. Her lips stir; her whisper is syllabic and strange. Not for him, but the furor inside her skull. The awful specters that she's had to chase out with gunfire and grenades. As strident as Silco's own specters are silent. As restless as Silco's own refuse to let him rest.

Now they are here. They have faces. They have form.

Jinx whispers: "The two of you. The three of you."

Silco watches in silence.

Her voice grows stronger, more urgent. She says a name, then another, then another, her pitch dropping to a lisp Silco hasn't heard since her girlhood. He doesn't need to know who she's talking to. He doesn't need to know what she's asking. He knows her better than himself. He knows her better than Zaun.

Fuck Zaun.

He doesn't need a dream. He has a miracle. He has a daughter.

"Vander—"

"Claggor—"

"Mylo—"

The wind picks up. It rustles the cracked soil and tosses Silco's hair into his eyes. It is electric and tastes like rain.

"I can't go with you," Jinx says. "Please. I need—I need more time."

She isn't speaking to Silco. She is beyond his world. Her grief is the conduit. Through it, she's speaking to her family—to the future they left behind. To the past they still haven't forgiven.

Because Jinx has never forgiven herself.

Silco's heart throbs like an open wound. He breathes, once, twice. His face is streaked with wetness.

It isn't rain.

"I'm sorry," Jinx whispers. "I'm so sorry, Claggor. For all the things I couldn't do for you. I'm sorry, Mylo. For all the times I lied to you. I'm sorry, Vander. For all the times I didn't tell you I needed you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please." She sags, shoulders bowed beneath her mangled hair. "Please forgive me."

Silco's fists tighten. His right hand is cramped around a key that he no longer needs. The metal is hot and slick as blood.

The wind picks up.

Jinx breathes, "Vi."

The final syllable. The trigger. The explosive release of every wound she's ever sustained. Every gunblast. Every grenade. Every death.

Jinx's shoulders tremble; her voice rises to a fever pitch.

"Vi—I'm sorry—Vi, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

The sobs bubble out, first softly, then in a broken hitching flood.

Collapsing to her knees, Jinx weeps.

The sight tears at Silco. Every fiber of his body is frantic to hold her. The key clicks into the padlock; he gives one good jerk against the cuffs. They drop. A heartbeat later, the chains give way, their weight collapsing off his body with a jangling chime.

Three minutes in total.

Kingpins do not possess the talents of Houdini. But any miner worth his salt can parse a hairline break in the heaviest chain. And for a man whose trade is trickery, a weak link is the only key he needs.

Silco stumbles to his feet. His stiff muscles enrage him. But the pain is welcome. It jars his body loose; it sharpens him up.

Jinx is still crying, shivery and loose-limbed as a kitten. But the jostling wrenches her attention. In an eyeblink, she springs up. Puff-Puff materializes in her hands.

She takes aim. His center of mass is right in her sightline.

"Stay back!"

Silco smiles—less at this turn of events, than at the gun-toting bane of his existence. "Or what? You'll shoot?"

Jinx fires.

The bullet whisks a centimeter past Silco's scalp. It strikes a boulder near his head, spraying splinters.

Silco throttles back a wince. He walked right into that one.

"Jinx," he says quietly. "Your aim is better than that."

"That was a warning shot!"

"It was an empty threat. I've taught you better."

She lets off a sound between a snarl and a sob. "Next time, I won't miss!"

Silco's smile, edged and bitter, softens. "I know."

"I mean it!"

"I know."

He draws nearer. Jinx whips around. The gun is still in her hands. It feels trivial. Just a toy. The real danger is Jinx. Her lovely face is trapped in a hideous transformation. It can either warp into the marionette mask of the Shimmer-demon. Or it can liquify into the beleaguered visage of Powder, a girl who oozed wretchedness like a cut vein.

Two creatures opposite and yet overlapping; born from having no control over their life.

"Don't," she says. A warning, a plea. "Don't."

"I'm not leaving without you, Jinx."

"I can't—"

"You can. It's your choice. You've always been free to make it. Stop acting like you don't deserve it."

"No! No no no no..." She is still sobbing; tears sluicing down her cheeks. But he is no longer the enemy she is struggling against. "It's not done yet! The goodbyes aren't finished. They have more to say. They need me to stay until—"

Until she's ready to say goodbye for real.

"You don't need them," Silco says gently. "They are only shadows, my lovely."

"They're everything! They're all I have left! If I can't fix them—I can't fix anything!"

"There is no fixed. We have to do it ourselves."

"Please. Please."

"Unless you'd like me to join you?" he says. "So we're all together. All of us in the After."

Jinx rears back as if he's slapped her. Their eyes meet. No bluffs; no bullshit. Either she comes home, or they exit hand-in-hand. Anything else is negotiable.

Including Zaun.

Jinx's gun clatters to the ground. A minute ago, she'd been a force of destruction. Now, sobbing and shuddering, she most resembles the little girl he'd first met in the rain.

Gods, she is still there.

Not Powder. Not the Shimmer-demon.

The spirit he'd fallen so purely in love with. The wildfire shining off her. All that strength and fragility and wonder. His little blue comet. His child. Yet it makes Silco sorry, to see her so beaten-down, beset by so much misery. Everything in him yearns to console her. Help her heal, or, failing that, absorb her grief.

Jinx sways, and Silco snatches her up. She doesn't resist. Her sobs are so fierce her whole body quakes. They hurt Silco in a way even war never could. He cradles her skull into the crook of his neck. Her heart is racing at double-time. So is his. When the emotional reaction finally hits him, it is violent as a gutting. Even though there's a torn space in his chest where there should rationally be relief, what he feels is a raw terror that makes him retch.

She nearly left.

She'd be gone and I'd be alone.

Silco's embrace tightens. She's dangling on tiptoe, the way he's holding onto her. Her eyes are squeezed shut. Her hands clutch fistfuls of his coat. It is a posture of turmoil so childlike that Silco nearly sobs in turn. Poor precious girl. How difficult it must be for her. How difficult it has always been. How little worth she's set in herself, not just her achievements and brilliance, but the astonishing, adorable incongruity that is Jinx.

He wants to speak. But the emotion is a crippling physical ache. And at the same time it is so perfect to have her back in his arms. She smells of her nightmarish ordeal—grit and gunpowder. But also so bittersweetly of home that he can't bear to let her go.

Except—

Against his chest, Jinx breathes, "Thirty seconds."

"What?"

"The timer."

"Gods—"

Reflexively, Silco snatches Jinx closer. But she's already broken loose. Not to abandon him. She pivots and swings a powerful kick at the wheelbarrow.

Jerking, it careens down the cliffside. Hits the edge, and tips straight over.

Plunging into darkness.

Thirty seconds.

Not enough time. The blast-zone is too close.

When the explosion comes, it rumbles like thunder and plumes like lava. It tears through the night, fire and ash billowing up and out of the chasm to blot out the moonlight. A shower of gritty black dust whizzes through the air. Flames balloon in a widening radius. The whole ravine jolts.

Jinx has already snatched Silco's wrist. Her fingers, fiendishly strong, clamp into his bones. Silco is swung into motion.

Then they are racing together, their boots pounding the rocks before everything whites out. Crash and thunder at their heels. Blistering heat giving chase. There is never anything stealthy in fire's pursuit. It charges madly, devouring everything in its path. The earth quakes beneath them. Jinx leaps clear of a crack widening under her boots. Silco stumbles and steadies and keeps motoring. His muscles boil; his nerves buzz. Adrenaline with a leftover froth of Shimmer.

Enough to last the distance?

It fucking better.

He and Jinx scramble up the incline. Embers billow in their wake. Thirty yards, twenty, ten. The obelisks, with their runic inscriptions, are a hazed silhouette against a burning heaven. A doorway glowing with promise. Jinx's palm finds Silco's. Their fingers lace together. She's leading the charge, but her eyes are locked on the horizon of his own.

His little comet, a blazing blue glory.

"I love you," she gasps.

They race hand-in-hand.

A gust of blistering wind buffets them. The flames rush closer, a maw that swallows everything it touches. Silco's lungs are acrid with smoke. Jinx is coughing raggedly. A cough like a miner's wheeze.

They keep running.

Five yards.

Four.

Three.

The obelisks beckon.

Two.

The runes are in reach.

One—

They leap, but it's too late. The flames have caught up to them. The cliff's edge is crumbling away in a slurry of soot. Jinx falls, and takes Silco with her. Her shriek is lost in the firestorm.

They fall together.

Through redness.

Through blackness.

Through nothing.

Then the world reorients itself.

Without warning the thunder ebbs and everything else sucked into silence before the silence turns itself inside-out in a shimmering blue-pink ether.

An eye of madness.

A burning pool.

A fusion of magic.

Before Silco's eyes, multicolored lights pop, and then he is falling not backwards but forwards into a portal, except it isn't a portal but a luminous web in the center of his mind, at the crux of his choices, and he sees—

Flash: A burning alley, Vander's corpse, a girl in the rain, and he kneels but doesn't take her in his arms, doesn't promise her the world on a pike, only encircles her to seize a fistful of blue hair and twist her neck bare, her face locked in horror as his blade slices across the pulse of her pale throat, blood sheeting her skin as her eyes go blank, Silco's own future blanking out with them, a barren vista with no freedom in sight, Zaun a stillborn death, his own life forfeit in a devil's bargain with no hope of redemption, and then—

Flash: the alley again, the girl in his arms, his voice crooning in her ear, and he takes her and keeps her, but their love is different, a bitter aftertaste at once rotten and unnatural, a perversion of family where she is nothing more than meat to devour, a means to an end, until sanity breaks and they glut themselves on each other's bones, two monsters cannibalizing their own, and in the echoing wrongness of the aftermath, he feels himself cracking in half, nothing but raw appetite left behind, a creature of feral impulse that will destroy anything it touches, and then—

Flash: the alley licked with flames, the girl sobbing in the rain, only she isn't a stranger, she is his own child, a legacy of his and Nandi's union, and now Silco cradles her close, and keeps her, and loves her purely, in blood and in truth, except she isn't Jinx, because Jinx wasn't born in this scenario, the exact genetic prerequisites failed to coalesce, but Silco doesn't know this as he nurtures her, and he doesn't know that when the sun rises on her sixteenth year, she will die screaming in agony, a corpse riven by Enforcer's bullets, because her cleverness isn't enough to spark Zaun's birth, because lightning only strikes once, and it's Jinx who is his lightning in a bottle, his child born without a drop of his blood but with the same shard of his soul, his comet, his treasure, and then—

Flash: Jinx as she is, except her body is a prism, fractured shards of light refracting off her skin, her eyes aglow, her beauty a rainbow in a rainstorm, except he isn't sheltering her, she is shielding him, a luminous talisman caught in her hands, a lance made of fire, and she is burning alive, but she unafraid, her laughter ringing true and sweet with the taste of victory.

And then—

He stumbles out of the web, the unlived lives brushing ghostlike at his skin before he falls free. The knowledge fades with him, nothing but an echo in his mind, a shadow at the corner of his eye. The explosion in the ravine is the same, relentless spume putting distance between its quarries.

He and Jinx are no longer in the same spot. They are at a craggy stretch of a plateau. The moon shines against the disturbed clouds in a welter of light. In the distance, the obelisk looms over a burnt landscape. The skyline around it shimmers with the wink of hundred glass windows. Or are they portals?

Between one breath and the next, they fade, until all that remains is the night sky.

Jinx skids to a stop, chest heaving. Silco trips and falls to his hands and knees. His lungs work like bellows. He coughs, throat burning. In that moment, he regrets every belt of whiskey and every lungful of cigarette he'd imbibed in the interceding years since meeting Jinx.

"By Kindred," he gasps. "Never again."

Blue particles fall like dust-motes—a glittering haze. The Hex-gem nearly burns a hole in his coat pocket.

What was that?

A lapse of sanity? Or the crux of miracles?

Something cannonballs into him.

Jinx.

She is on him, a keening flurry of blue and white and pink. The force knocks Silco backwards. Nearly a replica of their first meeting, her arms locked around his neck, sharp knees digging into his ribs. His body answers instinctually. Folding her close, he squeezes her small shape closer, his face in her hair, his reassurances drowned in the flood of her crying.

No—not crying.

Laughing.

Jinx's teary face is pressed against his neck. He feels the imprint of her lips. Her whole body ripples in broken burbles.

"Jinx—what—?"

Silco sits up. Jinx's laughter swells and bursts—giddy peals of gratitude.

The sound sends a dozen conflicting shocks through Silco. Simultaneously he wants to crush her in an embrace—and take her over his knee and belt her until she hollers. He can scarcely breathe; the rage building up in his bones is a whiplash so enormous it makes the near-swat on her thirteenth Name Day seem tame in comparison.

How could she be so reckless? How could she dare leave him?

Yet his instinct, deeper and more merciless than even his rage, sings with a heartsick delirium at having her back. His entire psyche is blasted open by her, this little blue meteor with not an ounce of his lifeblood, yet whose gravitational pull commands every iota of his being.

He holds Jinx for a long time, until her laughter ebbs. Dragging in a breath, Silco holds it for a moment, then loosens his embrace.

Jinx raises her head. Her face is a blotched mess of tears. Yet her expression holds a short-circuited sweetness that is entirely at odds with her doomed designs for tonight. This girl is new to him—a stranger. Someone mysterious. Someone enchanting. Someone he loves, despite all the danger she has brought upon them both.

His daughter, no matter what.

Their eyes meet. Jinx quirks a grin. "Silly."

"Child."

"That was fun, huh?"

"Speak for yourself."

He smooths the tangled hair from her forehead. It needs combing. Her luminous little face is smudged in dirt, the cheeks sticky. She needs a face-washing. Not to mention a bath, and a change of clothes. They both do. Except it is the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere.

Miles to go before they reach Zaun. Miles before they are anywhere close to home.

Silco doesn't care.

Home isn't far off. Home is right here.

Slowly, Silco shakes his head.

(Vander.)

(You bastard.)

(You could've warned me.)

Against his will, Silco slides out a smile. A tiny, crooked smile that barely lasts, and yet is designed to get under even the thickest skin of a runaway teenage girl, crawling around with its crazy-making warning. Jinx pretends not to see it. But her body betrays an antsy jitter. Her features reflect a shift from mischief to squinting suspicion. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"It's a night for firsts, hm?"

"I—I guess?"

"Here's a second."

To encompass your child in your arms after narrowly losing them. To know the prospect exists always. Today, tomorrow, any day in the future. Is there a more simultaneously blissful and heartbroken feeling in the world? Or a state more ordinary? Shared by thousands across Runeterra.

(That's fatherhood.)

Silco drops a kiss to Jinx's forehead. "My lovely…"

"Yeah?"

"You're grounded."

"Oh fu—"

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane zaun #zaun #arcane piltover #piltover #arcane vi #vi #arcane vander #vander #silco and jinx