radio414

(xkcd 2184) Do you have something like this?

what was your favorite avatar fad on (y/n)cm?

look at me hopping on a trend but asking questions too so my bump actually appears lower down than my questions

congratulations to tsubaki for coming out but the cover's a bit uncanny valley for me. i don't want to be like "she changed the lyrics now it sucks" but 6/10 i'm sure it's hype in game but i really couldn't get into this one and when i started hearing the "find the flame" over and over on relisten i realized i probably wouldn't 6/10 ok so i'm not sure this is an own that requires an evil laugh, like, justice is one of my favorite electronic acts and the length is, like, i listen to forty-minute post-rock drones for fun sometimes -- seventeen and a half is nothing. †/10 sure 6.5/10OP Suggestion: Oneohtrix Point Never has taken a break from scoring Adam Sandler films and is back to making albums and this one's pretty good in my opinion 7.5/10

Quinn was happy to hear that Billy tacitly approved of his Pokémon-raising habits, almost as much as thon was Billy did not even blink at the startling revelation that his hostel was now, technically, haunted. From the mention of Ghost-type Pokémon, though, perhaps that was because it already was. Quinn wondered how a Haunter or a Spiritomb could even wear a collar, but the thought was as ephemeral as the Pokémon themselves, and there was still business to attend to that evening. Another visit to a Pokémon Center was required, and speaking of care, Quinn needed to figure out how Normandie would prefer to be treated. Fae had known and been tethered to Cassiopeia for over a year now. The Drifloon’s habits and eccentricities were well-trod territory, and Quinn had become used to them and incorporated them into itself. Normandie, meanwhile, was unfamiliar territory. Their relationship was much more transactional. Who knew what would happen should the berries run out? There had to be other ways to dote on Normandie besides just feeding her, Quinn thought. Would a bath work? Quinn had read somewhere that rats were actually one of the cleaner animals in the wild with how often they groomed themselves. Would a bath even be necessary? Cassiopeia did not take baths, but she did enjoy being in a bathroom’s steamy atmosphere when the water was nice and hot. She would also enjoy a good polish when Quinn felt she was deserving of a reward. Their first day of adventure and their first new Pokémon companion probably qualified. Quinn took their two Pokéballs back from the center and examined them both. “Tomorrow we shall figure this all out,” xe said to zirself. “Perhaps Bobby will be in a more sociable mood at breakfast time and we can present him with our questions. Either that or rely on our own intuition. Surely someone with experiences such as ours, who has faced such trials, can manage the responsibility foisted upon them here.” They ended up in room L, which seemed auspicious even if Quinn had no understanding of why. The room was relatively spartan, with a bunk bed (Quinn took the top bunk) and a desk with a hard chair accompanying it. There was not an attached bathroom; they would have to share the unisex one (it was Billy and Bobby’s house, after all) just across the hall. Quinn did try to call first dibs on that. Cassiopeia was not the only ghost who enjoyed hot water. It soothed the soul just as much as the form that their material essence had taken. After that and a few other standard nighttime rituals (Quinn had never been the most devoted tooth-brusher even when alive, but he had promised its mother to try their best), Quinn was ready to enter that meditative trance that enabled fae to explore a dreamscape at eir leisure. The only thing left to do was wish the others the same luck. “Good night,” Quinn said as they knocked on each of zir friends’ doors. “Let us try to find each other in the Astral Plane, hm?”

didn't really love the beginning but got into it near the end hm 6.5/10 Not Tom Cardy's best but still alright 6.5/10 alsothey thought they could stop a demon i'm back also charismacom is back and if you don't know who charismacom are boy howdy do i have some weird something something for you 7/10

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. -James 1:17 (NIV)It was better than Melissa had expected, at least. That could be said for a lot of things, but first and foremost it was for Fiona’s eventual reaction. She’d gone through a wide range of emotions, but she pretended to be a graceful loser, and in the end, her actions mattered more than what was going through her head. The same, of course, could not be said for Melissa herself, who was already mentally reprimanding herself for feeling so much pride over her victory. It didn’t matter what she did, because she knew she could potentially feel differently. The feeling did not dissipate, though. Melissa couldn’t help it. Both she and Fen had fought hard for their victory. “Good game,” Melissa said to Fen as well. “Like I said, you had to save me more than once there -- I’m sorry I wasn’t able to return the favor in the end. But that’s Duel Monsters- er, that’s Yu-Gi-Oh! and that’s how serious some people can get about it, including, I guess, me at the end there. Um.” Technically, she was an entertainment duelist in training, but in the heat of the moment, she had regressed into that old “get this over with as fast as possible” style. Maybe some of that had been purposeful. After all, she didn’t want to make it seem like she was slow-rolling a victory, pretending like she couldn’t see a line. “I hope you had fun through all of that,” Melissa said. “It was… It was interesting to see all these old cards again. I already have some ideas for what I want to do with my deck. Back on my world, it was more acceptable to purchase single cards instead of cracking packs and hoping, but let’s see what Fiona gave us.” She adjusted her chair and remembered her coffee, taking a sip of it before picking up one of the packs and examining it in her hands. Everyone she knew had a different way to crack a pack. Melissa’s preferred method was to tug at the little crease at the top and pull it apart like it was a bag of chips. It didn’t always work, but this one came apart easily enough. As expected, most of it was chaff. Vanilla monsters that didn’t even have better stats than the ones already in her deck, some spells like Moonyan Curry that were outclassed by, like, five other cards Melissa could think of off the top of her head (and she wasn’t about to play any of those cards either). There was one that did catch her eye, though. “Master of Ham… This could fit in your food deck,” Melissa joked as she pulled the card in front of it away. Then she saw the art. “Oh, it’s ‘Ham’ for ‘Hamster.’” It had an interesting effect, but she had neither the Polymerization nor the Beast monsters required to summon it. “I suppose we should hold onto whatever we can get right now,” she said. They stayed a bit longer there in the café together, finishing up their drinks and talking if either of them cared for talking more, but Melissa’s thoughts drifted back to their apartment in general and Bartleby in specific. “I hope he hasn’t gotten into any trouble in our absence,” Melissa said. “And Trevor is surely finished with his errand, maybe he went back as well if he didn’t have anything else to do. I’d like to explore the other parts of the city that Fiona mentioned, but that should probably be another day.” She stood up and pushed in her chair. “Shall we?”

You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world. -1 John 4:4 (NIV)Fiona had systematically dismantled Melissa’s board, but Melissa took heart in the fact that she had been in worse spots this game. In fact, there was still the potential for a winning line if Fiona’s single Set Spell/Trap card wasn’t something she could use. “I’ll draw,” Melissa said. Yes, that would do. “First thing’s first, I’ll Flip Summon this Magician of Faith you already know about, which will allow me to return this Change of Heart from my Graveyard to my hand. I suppose the next thing to do would be -” She almost slammed down the Change of Heart immediately, but managed to hold back at the last second. If Fiona’s last trap did, in fact, disrupt this line, she didn’t want to lose the card. A better order of operations would be, “The next thing I’ll do is play Tsukuyomi. This one’s got a lot of text because it’s a Spirit, but for the time being, the only thing that happens is it lets me turn this Magician of Faith back down.” Just as she did so, she looked up to see Fiona smile and flip over her trap. In fact, it was a rather iconic one: Trap Hole. It would never matter what else her Tsukuyomi did now, it was destroyed and the winning “attack directly for a bunch” line was suitably shattered. Things weren’t hopeless now, but Fiona did have a chance to eliminate one of them. But, Melissa thought, maybe she thought she was winning here and now, so maybe she could make a mistake? “Alright,” she said. “I guess I’ll just pass the turn, then.” Fiona drew her card and her smile grew wider. “Looks like we’re hitting the end, huh?” she said. “Not a bad way to end it. I summon Traptrix Myrmeleo and use it to get Adhesion Trap Hole from my deck.” Melissa had to pause to read Adhesion Trap Hole. There were so many Trap Hole types (Traptrix was a whole archetype that supported them!) that it would be easy to forget one at the wrong time. She was more concerned with the Monster, though. Fiona went to her Battle Phase and… …And she pushed Myrmeleo Fen’s way. Melissa couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Fen was defeated, yes, but she had perfect information now -- including information Fiona did not. She still tried to commiserate her friend, teammate, and leader, though. “Sorry, Fen, I can’t save you from two potential direct attacks,” Melissa said. Fen looked at the board, then her Life Point total, then her facedowns. “Oh, I suppose I lose,” she said. “I’ll activate my Trap Card, then. Just Desserts.” Fiona had two monsters, and so took 1000 damage, dropping her to 2300. Then Fen just returned Melissa’s gaze. “I wish you the best, Melissa,” she said. Melissa’s slight nod and grin were even slighter than she expected at the play. If she’d had that information, she certainly would have attacked sooner, playing for the Desserts to give them that extra bit of reach they needed to close out the game. They could have had a joint victory, then! Was it something they had to talk about later? Team communication? Fiona snapped her out of her haze. “Going down swinging, huh?” she said. “Well, it’s just you and me, then, and time for my goblins to have a turn.” Now Melissa was as efficient as possible. These movements were how she remembered playing the game. “I’ll activate a face-down too,” she said. “It’s Book of Moon, which will change your Goblin Attack Force to Face-Down Defense position.” “Hmph,” Fiona said. Melissa wasn’t sure if she saw was she was about to do or not. Maybe she was going down swinging too. “Fine, I’ll set this card and end my turn.” “Draw,” Melissa said, but she barely looked at it. Doriado? As good a card as any. “Okay. Change of Heart your Monster, Flip Summon Magician of Faith to get it back, Change of Heart your other Monster, Flip Summon your Goblin Attack Force… I think even if you activate your Adhesion Trap Hole, that’s still, uh…” Four thousand and fifty. “That’s still four thousand and fifty damage coming your way,” she said. She waited a moment for Fiona to acknowledge the sequence, but she also knew there wasn’t anything left to do but that. “Um, good game,” she said. “Your deck seems really strong. I don’t think I’d keep up as well if there weren’t two of us. You don’t have to buy my lunch or anything. It was a silly bet, that’s all. “Um,” She started scooping up her cards, bracing herself in case Fiona was as sore a loser as the Spike Brothers she led.

Mr. Bojangles The tinker winced. “I did just say that, didn’t I? Tinker brain, I suppose, always getting caught on small details of things. You’re going to have to forgive me in advance, too. I’m sure it will happen again.” “Maybe you meant we, collectively, don’t have to wake Censer up, but you would have had to on your own?” Minos offered. “I mean, I’m comfortable just patting her down for you, rifling through her pockets or whatever.” “No, no,” He smiled though as he declined. “I can take a lump, but it’s too late. I’m too stubborn. Besides, from what I’ve heard of Censer, I think she’ll crack easily under pressure.” He reached out and rapped the monkey bars with his knuckles. When Censer visibly stirred, he crouched down and said, “Good morning!” Then he looked at Override again. “Ah, is it still morning?” And back. “Well whatever it is, I hope you have a good one, and that you recover from whatever cerebral trauma caused you to end up like this.” Censer’s eyes were obscured by her mask, but the way she moved as she slowly came to her senses implied they were quickly as wide as dinner plates. She didn’t say anything, but her breath quickened and her head snapped between looking at Override, Minos, and especially The Tinker. The Tinker said, “I believe you have something I need. You might even know what it is.” “I don’t- I’ve already had enough trouble today.” “And there’s a war on, I know.” His voice was calm through all of this, as though he had done this before. “The good news is you’re already here. In the care of some villains, yes.” He cocked his head Minos’ way. The cow woman was surprised to be mentioned, but she waved regardless, “but there are some heroes here too,” and his head went Override’s way at that. “And then there’s me. You’ll notice we’re all working together right now, so maybe you’ll understand the implication of what happens if we don’t get what we want.” Censer didn’t even hesitate. “Breast pocket, the one with the velcro so it wouldn’t fall out,” she said. Tinker stood back up. “Ah, see, that wasn’t so bad,” he said. It wasn’t clear who exactly he was talking to when he said it, though. “Minos, I will let you retrieve the tissue or whatever Caesar --” even despite the questioning earlier, he still pronounced the gang leader’s name as he had done before, “-- has given Censer here. Override, camera off, turn around, we’ll give them their space.” He wandered off away from the monkey bars until he was sure Minos could no longer hear them and there certainly wasn’t a chance of seeing or being seen by either woman. “I do hate being like that,” he said, “but sometimes you do have to play off a certain reputation. I understand you fought her earlier. That must have helped too.” Then The Tinker’s demeanor changed. He grew more somber. Gone was the forgetful apologetic or the intimidator of those who might have known him. Now he was someone else. “I was surprised when you were assigned to supervise me,” he said. “I didn’t think we were supposed to meet yet.” He pulled out a necklace from under his shirt as if that explained what he meant. It was a pendant of a marble wrapped in wire. “You know,” he said, “you might have to seek some of us out. But don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll be sooner than you think.” Minos had found the pocket Censer was talking about and called out. “Hey!” In her hand was a small vial and she held it above her head. Tinker smiled. “Well, in the meantime, let’s get to work.” I Feel The Earth Move Everyone had reconvened back in the underground meeting room, and Tinker was now giving his presentation. “It was a trivial task, so I will not bore everyone with the details, but by taking the vial and inserting it into this makeshift device, I traced Legion’s connection with his body back to its source -- Legion himself. As we all know, Caesar is sure to be nearby.” “Does Goodale Park interfere with Legion’s power,” someone asked, “or does the park only care if Legion himself is inside the park or not?” “An excellent question, one I do not know the answer to,” Tinker said. “However, we got around this by using the device outside the park. I already had to exit Goodale to make the thing in the first place, so it was not an inconvenience.” “Hm,” Director Sekelsky said. His eyes had been closed the entire presentation, but he had clearly still taken everything in. “That means Caesar saw you use the device through Legion as well. He knows we tried something.” “Catty Key had him pretty distracted for part of it,” Lachesis said. “Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn’t. I’ll admit, it’s probably better for the raid team to act as though he does, just in case.” “Trading one advantage for another,” Stanley said. “We had better make use of it. What were the results?” Tinker took a breath. “It appears, despite all of our discussion to the contrary, Caesar is still within the confines of his casino.” All of a sudden, he had to talk over murmuring from all around the meeting table. “If I had to guess, based on the strength of the signal, he has taken residence in some kind of safe house under the building.” “Impossible,” Lachesis said. “You doubt my methods?” “No, I believe your little Tinker tech does something, but, like, okay. So my power is measuring things, right? Odds, distances, times, whatever. I figured if I tagged along with Catty Key, my power could tell me the exact delay in their little call. I could turn that into a distance, and then that into a radius. After that, I just had to stare at a map.” There was a map on one of the walls of the meeting room, showing the entirety of Scarlet City. Lachesis pulled out a laser pointer and drew a circle around Goodale Park. “My read is that he’s close, somewhere in here,” she said. “If I had to guess, of all these buildings, he’d have taken over this one. Battle Labs Robotics HQ.” More murmurings. “You have to guess?” someone said. “Thinker powers could still be wrong,” another said. “With the wrong assumptions, of course she’d get weird data.” Stanley once again tried to get the conversation back on track. “Has anyone heard from anyone at Battle Labs today?” he said. “That would prove nothing,” Ophiuchus said. “Gibbons could have attacked without Caesar needing to be there. We would hear the same story either way.” Director Sekelsky sighed. “It sounds like we’re forming a second raid unit,” he said. “But let’s get to that later. Catty, how were talks with Caesar about a proxy battle?” Catty Key was a middle-aged woman with glasses that she adjusted as soon as she was called on to speak, only for them to slip back down her nose again. “He seemed enthusiastic about the idea,” she said. “I would say suspiciously so, though, of course, I don’t think either of us expected the other to hold their end of the bargain. I think he thinks he can at least keep some powerful capes busy.” “That was my read too, for whatever that’s worth,” Lachesis said. Victor ignored her. “Excalibur?” he said. But the hero merely grunted an assent. “Alright, so that’s still on. I assume you agreed upon a time?” “Pending your approval, of course, it would be ninety minutes from the end of the call, so over an hour from now still.” Lachesis opened her mouth to say the exact time, but Stanley managed to talk over her. “That’s time, but not a lot of time. I suggest we have the teams -- the ones that have already been formed, anyway -- gather together and familiarize themselves with each other. I know we’re all- well, most of us are professional, anyway, but we can’t afford to step on any toes for these. And the raid groups will have to decide which location they’re raiding. As for everyone else…” Director Sekelsky stepped in again. “Everyone else is playing defense or support. We’re holding as much territory as we can so Caesar doesn’t sweep us by in the meantime.” In addition to Belladonna and Override, Ophiuchus had selected Minos for a raid group, and a renegade named A.V.D. had stepped forward as well. “Let us know your decision as soon as you can,” Stanley told them. “And please, leave your egos here.” “Oh, I’m sure we’ll get along great,” Minos said. “I’ve already met some of you, the rest can’t be all bad. Hi! My name’s Minos! My favorite food is scrambled eggs and…” Meanwhile, Cassiopeia had joined Sibyl and Aeon by the other side of the room. Cassiopeia didn’t speak, but whether because of pride or knowledge of who she was going to be working with, she exuded confidence. Catty Key briefed them on more details. “We decided on the Horseshoe Arena. Caesar was cagey on how many people he would deem his ‘champions,’” she said. “And I don’t believe he’s looking for a fair fight besides. But again, this is a distraction, so give him something worth being distracted over.” OOC

Another thought Brian had was if any of the files had any contact information on them. Maybe if they could find someone’s email or phone number or something, they could ask them what problems there might have been in the office that could lead to a haunting (or whatever this was, anyway). The problem with that was that he had to scrutinize random pieces of paperwork again, and he was already falling asleep at even the notion of that. Still, he did grab some at random and was about halfway through when Carmen’s yelp interrupted him. He looked up. He’d seen Carmen move towards the far door out of his peripheral vision while he was struggling with the paper, so he was surprised to see her so close to him now. It was like she had just gone through the near door back into the room, which seemed impossible. But his mind quickly rationalized it. “That was fast,” Brian said. “What’d you do, scamper around a hallway upstairs, get spooked, and bolt down the stairs at the other end?” “Huh? I- no? Yes? It's well uh, very scary but I- uhhh, eh?” Carmen looked down the hallway then back to the door they had come from, then to Brian, frantically pointing at the hallway and moving her finger in a circle. “It’s uhhhhh…” “Well, yeah, I could guess that,” Brian said. “You came in through that door again when you left through that door.” He mimicked Carmen’s circle gesture, narrating as his finger circumnavigated empty space. “You went out, went around, back down, and…?” Carmen just kept stuttering. “Eh? But, no I didn't… did I? Uhhhh…” and Brian ignored most of it. He was already moving across the room to the other door. Carmen’s babbling briefly flirted with coherence, “I uh, I just came through that door? From uh, here?” But Brian was still following his own train of thought. “I mean, I didn’t see any stairs on that side, but I guess that doesn’t mean there weren’t any.” Indeed, now that he was closer to the door, he could see through a small window where there was a bit of staircase just in view. “I could have just missed them. Yeah, there’s the stairs right there on this side, at least, so just wait there and -” And he stepped through the door and crashed right into Carmen, who had done exactly as he’d asked and not moved from her spot. Both of them tumbled to the ground. Brian groaned. This was his fault, really. He had completely ignored the supernatural just because there was nothing else in the room that had tripped anything. At the same time, it was also Carmen’s fault. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” he said as he pulled himself to his feet. “Alright.” He said it again. “Alright.” Brian massaged the back of his neck. “I mean, I guess that answers question one. I imagine we just gotta seal the room up. But then question two is how we do that and not be in the room when it’s sealed. Well, I guess question one really was ‘What the hell was that kid screaming about?’ but I’m sure that’s part of the answers to the other questions. Hey, hand me a flashlight, would you? Just in case something even worse happens.” He went back to the box in the center of the room and grabbed a handful of seals too. He said, “It’s just an Escape Room if you think about it,” and he said it for his own sake just as much as he did for Carmen’s.

The first thing Chris tried was just raking his lockpick through the pins trying to get any of them to stick up through the force of his tension rod alone. He figured if the dungeon was eternal and timeless, it wouldn’t exactly follow the latest lockpicking technology. But the lock was as tricky as it looked. He wondered how everyone would react if he got it open that quickly after saying it would take a bit of work. Probably they’d just scramble through the door in the heat of the moment, but afterwards? No, he did need to focus. He took his pick back out, reset the tension bar, and tried again. Once upon a time, back before Chris could ever have conceived of doing this for a living (because earning a living was for peasants, obviously), back before he was even picking the locks the maidservants set on the larder, a man came to Ellwood Manor looking to ply his trade. As it turned out, the man was a locksmith, a new trade branching off from the classical skill of blacksmithing, specializing in exactly what the name implied. If a noble needed something secured, a locksmith was who they would turn to. Now, this was back before Chris’ father and mother, patriarch and matriarch of the Ellwood estate, had imposed any sort of restriction on Chris’ activities, so the man never went near any of the things Chris cared about. He didn’t actually want valuables, yet. In fact, Chris was encouraged to be around the locksmith, helping the guards keep an eye out in case the man tried to pocket something from the coffers. “It might even teach him something,” Chris’ father said. “What a good work ethic looks like.” In a way, his father got what he wanted. The locksmith invited Chris to get up close to an installation, to survey his latest installation. Even to Chris’ untrained eye, it looked like a masterwork. “It’s perfect,” he said. The locksmith shook his head. “It’s not perfect,” he said. “But it’s okay. You make enough of these, you learn to spot the imperfections, the ways to do it better next time. That’s lesson one -- you can tell your father I told you that. Lesson two is this: Nothing is, especially not locks. If it can be opened with a key, it can be opened with a pin and some dedication. My job is to make there be as much dedication as possible.” Well, he certainly was dedicated now. He could feel a ghoul breathing down his neck over on his right, but he just had to keep trusting the rest of the group. Lana broke his concentration. “How’s it going with the lock?” she said. “It sure is going,” Chris said. Only then did he feel the first pin click into place. “Okay, that’s a start.”

Z. frowned. “Didn’t I already answer that question?” they said. “Pretty sure I said something like that already.” Their memory returned to them, and they inadvertently shifted to a version of themself from a few hours ago. “Yeah, I was like, ‘I’ll help because, like, whatever,’ and then I think I said something about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. I didn’t realize that was a one-time thing.” They realized what they were doing and dismissed the illusion. “What, do you need a blanket statement of intent? Here:” They stepped forward into the circle of Pokémon. “Unless I say otherwise, assume I’ll help out with this end-of-the-world stuff, okay? Don’t gotta ask, just do your part and I’ll do mine.” There was frustration there, built out of a lack of sleep, of the redundancy only now clarified, and of being forced to be emotionally vulnerable (with Pokémon they did not want to be emotionally vulnerable with). Z. took a step back, but they didn’t apologize. “Okay,” they said instead. “Hey, speaking of needs, I guess we had food figured out, though we do need to dig that oven at some point, Hector -- remind me later on that. But did the magic make-everything-on-the-island-be-better wish also give us, you know, beds? Even one bed, singular?” “Oh yeah! That’s one thing it didn’t give us! But don’t worry, it’s nice and warm outside, and there’s plenty of soft grass to lie down on. ♪” “Yeah, okay. Nice and warm for now,” Z. said. “You’re not going to catch me sleeping outside in the wind and rain if I can help it. I’m going…” They turned around and picked a random direction. “I’m going this way to pick up some sticks or rocks or something. Maybe dig a hole in the ground and just lie in that. If you want to help out feel free but I’m not stopping to let you catch up.” They sure were doing that a lot, running off from the rest of the group with barely an invitation to follow. It had been justified every time, of course. In this case, it was to deal with the emotional labor of experiencing seven Pokémon’s feelings at once. That amount of optimism would throw anyone off-kilter, right? It certainly had thrown Clobber the Clobbopus for a loop, although, now that Z. thought about it, he was always like that, wasn’t he? But, like, Z. wasn’t a complete cynic. They could be optimistic about some things. They’d been on that oven and shelter plan before they’d even dealt with the apocalypse mist, which implied some sort of thinking for a brighter future, even if it was still a future with no memories in a Pokémon body that, until recently, refused to even work properly. That wasn’t to mention their promise to themself and others of self-improvement. These things would happen. Z. trusted Jirachi, bothersome as he was, to work towards saving his world. Even if he was less of a genius than he claimed, Z. didn’t think he was about to do something malicious. At least, if he was, he would have done so already. See, that was optimistic too. That still didn’t shake the feeling Z. was dealing with, though. The problem was that they didn’t even know how to define it. The closest thing was, what, the knowledge that these were their people- Pokémon? If that were true, it wasn’t something they had ever felt before. Maybe it was their shitty memory, but it wouldn’t have been on the forum, in any case. There was always shit to deal with there. Summer’s warning points would expire and he would flare up. New DMs treating them and their review blag like a service they could get on demand. The whole “they” thing. Z. had made a niche for themself on Yanma’s (and later Nincada’s) Custom Monsters, but it was never them as they were, was it? If that were the case, the feeling was a promise that they could be authentically themself with everyone. There were still some problems (one problem in particular), but it was a reason to keep going. Z. found a couple of fallen branches under a tree and started dragging them behind, looking for a place to start building.

“Fear not, Belladonna,” Quinn said. “I have spent the past year and a day familiarizing myself with my new corporeal form. I know my limits. But that is also why we must expand them! Why even be on this journey if we are not going to pursue the absolute pinnacles of what trainer and Pokémon can achieve?” All the maps provided to them had been very clear. Fernsworth was the next town over. That was their destination, and they had whatever time remained in the day to get there. Their initial foray into Route One Oh One had gotten them sidetracked by the thrill of independence, of a whole new world opening up before their eyes. Now was the true trial, the true measure of worth. Their supplies were lesser for the sidetrack, but at the same time, their total number was greater. Quinn felt both Cassiopeia and Normandie by her side even as they were still both in their Pokéballs in his bag. They could all train as they went along. Quinn’s pace was steady, slow enough to keep Belladonna from falling behind, yet still firm and with purpose. They could train along the way. “Enough of this,” the Lass said. “Starly, get back here! We’ll regroup and-” They were almost the same words Quinn had used when encountering Normandie for the first time, and the Ratffian barely even needed to be told what to do in such a situation. Quinn still issued the command: “Normandie, keep up with Pursuit!” At the very least, Quinn felt xe had to demonstrate e could make proper decisions. Quinn wanted to improve their relationship with Normandie to the point where she might listen when their decisions contradicted. As things stood, it felt more the other way around. Maybe Normandie was already charging up the Pursuit, and Quinn was just following along barking out the order as a formality. It was either that or ze was just a natural at training Pokémon, and she did not have enough hubris to believe that to be the case. It was working out for them so far. Normandie dashed forwards and leapt several times her height into the air, snapping at the Lass’ Starly, finally landing a blow around the starling Pokémon’s ankles and dragging -- no, slamming -- it back to the ground. The Starly had already taken a few Tackles and a couple of Tail Whips. The Pursuit was the final nail in the coffin. Not literally, of course, although, given how Normandie still stood tall and proud over her conquest, one could never be quite sure until the Starly’s eyes fluttered as it returned to the Lass’ Pokéball. “Well done, Normandie!” Quinn said. “Here, let me…” They were already fishing around in his backpack for a berry to reward their Ratffian, and Normandie in turn dutifully trotted over to receive it. As they made their exchange, Quinn heard scurrying behind hir. She turned around only to see a telltale purple tail disappear into the bush. The wild Rattata of Route One Oh One were out for revenge, were still out for the berries, or both. They were getting testy. But they were not all jumping out to attack at once, at least, so Quinn just kept an eye out. Normandie, too, glared at the bushes until they finally stopped moving, even in the breeze, before returning to her Pokéball. At one point along the journey Quinn took up Nathaniel’s offer of physical training, though Cassiopeia took even more interest in the activity than Quinn did. She had absorbed the basics well enough watching the trainers go through a basic drill, learning how to punch, learning where to punch, and, most importantly, learning when to punch, and now it was time for the Drifloon to do the same. The target pad had been set up. Cassiopeia faced the target head-on, arms raised in front of her face just as she had been shown. She pressed forward and… …and barely touched Nathaniel’s palm. “You can do it, Cassiopeia,” Quinn said. “Remember what Nathaniel said: you are moving forward with the blow to put your weight into it. Punch past the pad.” Cassiopeia nodded and her eyes grew fierce. Quinn had read that Drifloon and Driflim were theorized to be propelled by a secret fire, and he could certainly see that in Cassiopeia’s eyes now as she squared up again. She reared back, breaking the form Nathaniel had shown her just to put her all into this next punch and… …and lightly brushed the target this time, little more than a light shove. Quinn rushed in immediately to console her balloon. “Oh, dear Cassiopeia,” she said. “You do only weigh two gravelerock at most. Perhaps this is not the activity for you. But we can find something else that will suit you better. I promise you that we will.” Cassiopeia remained solemn, however. “Blooon…” Cassiopeia did much better when it came to training against actual Pokémon. Her awareness against the several Rattata that had approached, one after the other, remained as good as Quinn could hope for, and she was able to use her flight advantage to great effect, dashing around the clearing in the middle of some tall grass, keeping herself Minimized as per Quinn’s plan, and Gusting when the time was right. It was not as though the Rattata could do much to harm her anyway, but Quinn had decided it was better safe than sorry. She was getting stronger, too. Normandie was getting stronger as well, but Quinn had spent so much time with her Drifloon that they could see the gains more easily. It was encouraging. Quinn had promised faer parents that he would be well-protected, and even with the increase in Rattata aggression, no further harm since their bruise had come to their person. By the same token, though, Quinn could see the wear from all these fights. Normadie’s coat had gotten scratched up as well. They were almost to Fernsworth, and good thing too, because they did need to stop soon. As the afternoon light faded into evening, Quinn almost felt like Belladonna, in that they wanted to fall asleep where they stood. It could see light up ahead, though, coming from a window -- a house bordering a fenced-off area where Quinn could see Pokémon roaming around with no conflict at all. As Quinn got closer, he could see that all the Pokémon had collars on them. There was also a sign near the front door of the house that said “DAYCARE” and then, in brackets underneath in a handwritten scrawl, “(also pokemon center).” A Pokémon center solved one of their problems, at least. Quinn went right up to the door and yanked on the doorknob, but it was locked. There was a second sign (or third, depending on how one counted) on the door itself that said “Knock for Entry” and a door knocker just below it, so Quinn used that instead. It took a moment to find out, but the man who answered the door had blonde hair and was tall enough that he clearly missed Quinn standing just in front of him, but he did look down before Quinn had to get his attention. “Oh, hello there,” he said. “I’m Billy, and this is my daycare. Well, mine and my brother Bobby’s. What can I do ya for?” Quinn pointed to the sign. “The sign says this is a Pokemon Center -- if this is true then I request your services. In addition, my companions and I will require lodging for the night so if you know where in Fernsworth a hostel might be, that would be appreciated as well.” The man -- Billy, right, Quinn thought, hopefully remembering this time -- scratched his head. “Not sure what a hostel is, but you can stay in one of the spare rooms here if you want. Just make sure you don't mess with any of the Pokemon and take your shoes off at the door. We sure do have a Pokémon Center too, if that’s what you need more.” He gestured inside. Quinn could see that she was looking into a modest living room, but ze could see some recognizable machinery through a doorway off to the side. Still, Quinn could not help but show off his preparedness a little bit. Even as Quinn gestured for zir companions to join them in accepting Billy’s hospitality, they said, “I admit I do not have personal experience with hostels, but I did read about them in preparation for our journey. A hostel is a shared lodging, meant for short stays and the potential to meet and socialize with other travelers.” She dutifully took off her shoes and wandered in. “I suppose this could qualify if you ever think to update your signage again. You are most kind to offer this.” “Well, aren’t you a smart…” Billy looked at Quinn a bit and finished “…young person. I think I’ll do just that. And don’t think nothing of it. We all gotta help each other out, after all.” Quinn found themself fixated on Billy’s hesitation and sought to correct the matter. “My name is Quinn,” thon said. “I am a ghost!”

Brian wheeled around “Who are you calling Sherlock? Oh.” Carmen was talking to a picture. He thought about saying some more but just rolled his eyes instead and went back to pacing around. He got to a wall and turned, circling the room, only watching out in case Carmen moved, but otherwise looking at the spirit box and listening intently. Apart from the medium-grade noise music coming from the spirit box and making sure to stay out of Carmen’s way as she continued to ponder the artistic merits of a gimmicky pet photo, nothing grabbed his attention. No words, ethereal, from the spirit box, or otherwise, made their way to Brian’s ears, and nothing else supernatural happened either. Near the end of his lap around the room, though, he did come across a printer, and following Carmen’s lead, he started fiddling with that instead. A few button-presses here, lifting the copy lid, checking the paper tray… Brian did anything he could to stir a reaction from the printer. Still nothing. He checked if it was plugged in, too, and it was, so the nothing was technically unusual, but still within the realm of normality for printers. He went and grabbed a seal from the box and stuck it on the printer anyway. “All printers are haunted,” Brian said. “Maybe if I stuck a seal on the printer at the library it’d stop eating all my copies.” This seal, though, did not exorcise the printer-not-turn-on spirits like Brian had hoped. He turned back towards Carmen. “Well, I’m pretty convinced there isn’t anything weird over here,” he said. “Unless…” He wrenched open a file cabinet and riffled through the various papers, but they were all legible and terribly ordinary. Even the most poorly written piece of academic fluff couldn’t get Brian’s eyes to glaze over faster than they did scanning those files. “I guess we could give those posters a poke or something in case there’s some secret escape tunnel, but I’m ready to go upstairs or --” He pointed across the room “-- wherever that door leads, anyway.”

“I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh. Then they will follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. They will be my people, and I will be their God.” -Ezekiel 11:19-20 Melissa returned Fen’s smile and gave her a small thumbs up. She knew who to thank for being still in the game after getting utterly exposed last turn. She’d managed to hide it, but the moment that Self Destruct Ant came out, Melissa had fully accepted her defeat. Not that she could do much as it stood with her current hand. She needed to draw something truly spectacular to crawl back into the game. “Draw- oh.” Well, that could do it. It certainly solved a number of her problems at once. “I’ll activate Change of Heart targeting your Traptrix Atrax,” Melissa said. She could feel Fiona’s stare burning a hole into her forehead, but she tried her hardest to keep her focus on the board. “Do you mind if I touch your cards? Actually, it doesn’t matter. I can have it, uh,” She accidentally glanced upwards and had to take a moment to compose herself. “It’ll attack you for twenty-three hundred and then for my Main Phase Two, I’ll tribute it for this face-down monster, and I’ll also Set the last card in my hand in the Spell or Trap Zone.” Fiona’s Life Points dropped to 3300, and she wordlessly took her Atrax and placed it in her Graveyard. Melissa looked up again, and her eyes had narrowed, as if she was trying to sus out something about Melissa. But Melissa didn’t even know what she could be hiding outside of the known unknown information in play, so she didn’t even have to try to keep a poker face, she just had her normal face. When Fiona drew her card, her expression changed. She was smirking again. “Well, look who came back,” she said. “It’s my Goblin Attack Force again, only this time, it has 2800 Attack thanks to Gaia Power. And I’ll use that attack on Nettles.” Melissa’s face-down was no help here, and neither was Fen’s, apparently, so both of them could only watch as the goblins crashed into the nettle plant for 600 damage, sending Fen down to 1700. “Finally,” Fiona muttered as the hologram and the Trap card attached to it got sent to the Graveyard. She then set the last card in her hand and ended her turn. It felt like the momentum had shifted, but with so many Traps in play (or Quick-Play Spells, couldn’t forget about those), there were still so many ways this could go wrong. Judging from what Fiona had played so far, nothing was off the table. But with so few cards in everyone’s hands and dwindling Life Point totals, it wasn’t like they could spend time playing around imagined scenarios. They just had to seize forward on any weakness they could. “Alright, Fen,” Melissa said, “I hope you can make this turn count.”

THERE IS POWER IN THE BLOOD There was silence after Override’s big speech, but only for a moment. The Fates couldn’t help but get some snark in. “Oh, the triple-G are the keepers of the peace now, huh?” Clotho said. “What does that make the Peacekeepers then?” “In any case,” Director Sekelsky said, pointedly ignoring the question, “The big question in the center of all that remains: Where is Caesar? A stealth raid isn’t out of the question, but we can’t just send spies out to cover the whole city. We’d spread ourselves too thin. Even just narrowing things down to probable areas would be a start.” “Also, it is important to note that we are at war,” Ophiuchus said. “Perhaps more importantly, Caesar is the one who declared this war. I am not exactly enthusiastic about committing ourselves to nonviolence in the face of that.” He returned Override’s stare, too. “Though perhaps you would say that is just in my villainous nature to want to punch back?” Again, Stanley stepped in. “We’re all on the same side right now,” he said. “Now, ah, Sibyl’s suggestion of drawing people out through an announced challenge does solve another problem that I’ve been meaning to bring up. Namely, the election that is, or was, scheduled for tomorrow.” There were murmurs from some of the crowd. “Sweet Astra,” Atropos muttered under her breath. Stanley ignored them. “Obviously, an S-Class threat takes precedence,” he said. “But it saves everyone a large logistical hassle if we can get this over and done with quickly, and choosing a handful of champions per side does do exactly that. Aeon seems confident, anyway.” “I’m not willing to surrender the city to the whims of The Stanley Principle,” Director Sekelsky said. “…or Stanley’s principles,” Atropos said. “Well, we don’t have to,” Stanley said. “Caesar would still be an existential threat to the city. He would still be an S-Class threat necessitating alliance. He might even be more so if he felt particularly slighted.” “There is no reason to believe that Caesar would honor this arrangement if we are already talking about breaking it,” Ophiuchus said. “It would simply become the first battle of many.” “It’s a better plan than any we’ve made so far,” Director Sekelksy said. “We might as well see if he accepts. If he doesn’t, we can move on to something else.” He turned to one of the people sitting behind him, a middle-aged woman in half-formal attire. “Catty Key, can you go outside the park and see if Caesar will play ball?” “Got it,” she said, and she turned around to leave through one of the stairways. Lachesis stood straight up. “Hey, actually, can I come with? I’ve got an idea that might solve that location problem.” Director Sekelsky glared at her, so she added, “I’m just a Thinker, Vic. What do you think I’m gonna do, brain her to death?” He sighed. “Excalibur, go with them too. Just in case.” A man in a suit of armor stood up and followed both Catty Key and Lachesis, who turned around and stuck her tongue out as she left back up the stairs. One of the Renegades on the opposite end of the table from all this also stood up. “I have an idea, too,” he said. “There’s word on the grapevine that the Moray Clan captured a few Gibbons capes this morning, Hellhound included. Is that correct?” More murmuring from the rest of the renegades. “My understanding is that it was a joint effort, actually,” Victor said. “Right, okay.” It appeared some contributions were greater than others. “So, like, did they have any Legion on them? Because we could use that. I mean, the Park is clouding my mind a little bit, but when I’m not being suppressed by forces beyond my control, I do Tinker with power alternation stuff. Nothing major; I’m not that good, but it might be possible to reverse the polarity on Legion’s power. Since wherever Legion is, Caesar --” ˈkae̯sar “-- is, we could make a pretty decent guess from there.” A few different people tried to speak up, but Ophiuchus got there first. “Why did you say his name like that?” “Force of habit. I live over there; it’s hard not to. What, do you want to raid my house too?” “I don’t want to give you access to Hellhound, basically on that reasoning alone,” Atropos said. “And I don’t want to give another Tinker access to Vambrace’s tech. Censer, though, if you can find some blood on her or something, sure.” “I’ll even take an escort with me if that bothers you,” the Renegade said. “Though I’ll let G3 choose it if you don’t mind. I’d still trust them more than you to not get in the way of my work.” She shrugged. “Sure. Vic?” “Alright,” Director Sekelsky said. “Override, go with the man.” “Minos can take you to where we are keeping them,” Ophiuchus said, taking his own opportunity. “Did not expect this to be a whole thing, but sure, so long as she stays out of the way, I guess.” He and Minos went back towards the elevators waiting for Override to join them. Stanley took charge of the meeting again. “So this what I’m gathering the plan is now:” he said, “This is a split offensive. We meet a portion of Caesar’s forces at a neutral location. Say, some place in the Arena District, while a portion conduct a raid at wherever location or possible locations these investigations confer on. Neither of these would require the full brunt of our combined power, so I suppose should we start by taking volunteers? Do people have a preference for one stage or the other? Or are there any other objections?” OOC

At least Shiki’s instructions were easier to find this time than some videotape hiding out in the back somewhere, Brian thought. Carmen seemed to echo his lack of enthusiasm, though given what little he knew of the girl, maybe that was just what she was like. He didn’t try and probe further into her or anything as they approached their destination building. He didn’t care to. The building itself looked innocuous enough besides the lack of police presence. An office space between a bakery and a barber could easily be used for both if the owners weren’t doing all their business needs on their laptops at the counters or whatever. Or it could be one of those rent-a-office type deals that Brian heard about years ago. Not that Brian was a big fan of renting in general, of course, but he only thought about it in his own terms. It wasn’t enough to just leave a building be haunted, especially based on speculation. Brian sighed. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with,” he said. “And not even in a ‘demon or djinn or spirit’ way. Last time, we had a pretty good guess where the thing was. Didn’t have to poke around too many bathrooms before we found her. Let’s see what’s back here.” He gave the back of the van a once-over. The box of seals was still there -- it looked like it hadn’t even been touched since the night before. They were definitely taking that. He also grabbed a spirit radio, tossing it in the box and hefting the whole thing up. Once Carmen grabbed whatever she wanted as well, he headed inside. It smelled like capitalism in there, which was normal for an office, but still, not the greatest. Brian was so used to the academic airs of a library or the sweaty miasma of the gym that he had to take a few breaths to get acclimated. The actual appearance of the office was normal, too, with the aggressively twee posters and a printer that surely only worked half the time and open workspaces because something something cubicles bad. There was probably an article about that somewhere, and a research paper about socialization. “Well,” Brian said. “Let’s get started.” He placed the box of seals in the center of the room for convenient access, turned on the spirit radio, and started moving around, listening to the random static for any hint of a word, or anything else that might betray paranormal influence. So far there was nothing, but there was no reason to get discouraged yet.

And do not grumble, as some of them did -- and were killed by the destroying angel. -1 Corinthians 10:10 (NIV) Melissa eyed Fen’s cards with the same suspicion that Fiona did, but at least Melissa didn’t swear about it. For one thing, Fen had mostly managed her board state better than Melissa had. But she still had to do something. As she drew her card, she realized she could do a few things, actually. “Okay, I’ll set a monster here, and then activate this Sol and Luna we know about. It’ll flip my monster face-up and your Goblin Attack Force face-down again. I think I misspoke last time, sorry, um, my Magician of Faith should have been in Defense position before, but you played Final Attack Orders, so it all worked out in the end. This time, though, it’s this little guy.” She flipped the card over to reveal a Skelengel, whose Attack was boosted just as her Magician’s was by Terrors in the Hidden City. “And he has an effect that lets me draw a card, too.” She dutifully obeyed the clause of Final Attack orders before drawing her card. Before she could do anything else, though, Fiona jumped in. “You can have your card, but there’s no way I’m letting you keep that monster,” she said. “By discarding this cute little monster, I can destroy your… angel.” Fiona showed both Melissa and Fen her Ghost Ogre and Snow Rabbit, and it was Melissa’s turn to stare. She knew about hand traps, of course, but how many people actually played with them? It simply wasn’t done. Well, except for Kuriboh, of course, but that was a special case. Still, she dutifully put her Skelengel in her Graveyard and went back to staring at her hand. Without a normal summon, things just got a whole lot trickier. All of a sudden, Melissa felt extremely vulnerable. “I’ll set some more spells and traps, then,” she said. “Two of them. I guess that’s it for me.” Fiona smiled, “Alright, draw-” “Oh, but I do have an effect in your Standby Phase,” Melissa quickly jumped back in. “One of these face-downs is Acid Trap Hole, so we flip over your monster, and if its Defense is 2000 or less, we destroy it. Goblin Attack Force’s Defense is, uh, it’s zero, right?” Gone was the smile. “Almost poetic,” Fiona grumbled. Melissa didn’t know what that meant, but she nodded along all the same. “Sorry, um, you can continue with your turn now.” Fiona looked back at Melissa’s empty board and that wide smile came back. “I’ll summon a second Self-Destruct Ant,” she said. “And I’ll play this Gaia Power, raising its attack to 2000.” Melissa double-checked her Life Points. “Ah,” she whispered to herself. Fiona was coming after her after all, and in a way that technically kept her hostage in the game for as long as Fiona wanted. “Wait a second,” She reread Gaia Power and checked Fen’s board again. “Oh look, Fen, it affects your Nettles, too. It’s all the way up to 2200 Attack now.” Of course, Fiona wasn’t attacking the 2200 Attack Nettels. “I’ll attack Melissa directly,” she said. “Okay,” Melissa said. “But, um, the other Trap card I prepared was Waboku.” She revealed her other card, featuring maidens who some bully would have probably called Melissa’s long-lost sisters if Melissa ever frequented a public area where a bully might be present. They briefly materialized on the board with a heavenly song before disappearing, taking what remained of Fiona's battle phase with them. Fiona’s eyes just narrowed. “Wow. I guess that’s all then. I end my turn.” It wasn’t perfect, Melissa thought, but she was still in the game. It felt like they were on the cusp of, well, the cusp of something, at least. It was still possible that Fiona would just slam the door on both of them. Either way, Melissa still found herself enjoying it all, and she awaited the next few turns with bated breath.

“I’m fine,” Chris said. He didn’t need any healing in specific, though if Estellise could conjure up a nice warm bath or something, that would be great. Oh, and if Estellise or anyone else could get his dagger back from that one creature’s head, that would be great too. But there were small blessings. Everyone was together again like he’d wanted, and now they could see part of the dungeon a little bit better. There was still all this fog, but they had some light now. Would torches be useful in later runs? He wondered how many other preparations could be done, assuming everyone still wanted to explore with him after his plans for that night. Not that he could look too much further into the future. They were still in the middle of combat. Chris could see new shadowy figures dancing in the fog. Lana moved to the center of the room and tried the door. “Chris, the door is locked, do you think you could-” She got cut off by one of those creatures jumping out at her. Thankfully, Chris had already been heeding Lana’s other instruction, to be ready in case something jumped out, and though coming from behind one of the pillars of the building was not what Chris had been expecting, he’d still been ready enough to rush in. “I’m on your left!” He didn’t want to be a hypocrite and not warn his teammates. Chris took a running jump and whirled his weapons around, bringing them both down upon the monster’s arm, the same arm that had just struck his friend. That certainly got the thing’s attention, but Chris hopped back instead of staying within grabbing range, and stepped back behind Lana, getting a closer look at the door. “Oh, it’s one of these,” he said as he dropped down to be eye-level with the lock. This was the plan, huh? Well, he could oblige if everyone else was willing. “I can probably get this open, but you’re all going to have to watch my back as I do, ‘cause it’s going to take a bit.” It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them -- this wasn’t the first time he’d had to jig open a door while they kept him safe -- but just in case, he didn’t sheathe his dagger as he took out his lockpicks, instead keeping it in the same grip as his tension rod. If anything happened, he could whirl back around, but otherwise, he kept his full attention on the puzzle in front of him.

True to his word, Brian did everything he said he was going to do. Gym came first, because it was more convenient to shower after and just use that as the actual shower for the day, even if it meant trudging out of bed after only a few hours of sleep. It wasn’t enough time to get a stupid dream, at least. He kept his gym playlist in the instrumental section; it was one less distraction and let him think about the previous night a little bit more. This was the job, huh? He’d only been at this for one, maybe two weeks at most. Couldn’t some spiritual haunting happen during the daytime? Like, he didn’t really want that. He didn’t actually want Shiki to come barging into his daily routine and muck everything up, but also, despite desperately needing the job for personal, spiritual reasons (pun intended), so far he hated himself afterward every single time. Gym helped with that part, at least -- he could turn that hate into something productive. He was still sore from wrestling with that ghost last night. He’d already forgotten her name, so the ache was the only thing she’d left behind. Next was actual work, and since he had already had to rely on sheer discipline to make it through leg day, there was little left for the monotony of research and paperwork for more research. If he could actually comprehend a whole paragraph at a time, he’d have probably enjoyed these ancient tomes a lot more. Part of Brian was already anticipating having to read everything all over again. The applications got sent out okay, though. That could practically be done entirely by computer. There were a thousand little widgets that could lift all the book’s information and turn it into a request form. Brian just had to click what he wanted. It was still busywork, reading summaries and trying to glean if it was useful or not, but still. Brian didn’t go grocery shopping. He took a nap instead and put it off until tomorrow. What was Shiki going to do, obligate him to incur even more sleep debt by finding some other supernatural force to inflict upon him? And Carmen now, too? The amount of four-letter words he uttered when he saw Shiki’s message and, moments later, Shiki’s van parked outside his apartment was immeasurable. He still put on a jacket and went to it, but each step earned an extra one. “Fine,” he said -- another four-letter word -- as he reached the driver’s side door. “Alright, let’s do this.” Once Brian had actually parsed Shiki’s handwriting, following the instructions was easy enough. It was hard to go wrong with “turn left” and “turn right” even if that was all that really was written down. He spotted Carmen right where Shiki had said she’d be and rolled down his window as she approached. “Hey,” he said. “Hopefully you had a better day than I did, because I bet it’s about to get a whole lot worse.”