Podcasts about Dead house

In this episode, Joe Moore welcomes LP Giobbi, an internationally famous DJ, electronic music producer, and jazz pianist. LP shares the story behind Dead House, her project blending Grateful Dead samples with house music. What started as a tribute to her parents during pandemic live streams has become a celebrated musical movement. Joe and LP explore the deeper connection between music and psychedelics. They talk about Bicycle Day, the story of Albert Hofmann's famous LSD bike ride, and how psychedelics can support creativity and personal growth. LP opens up about her own experiences with psychedelics, touring burnout, and how she's learning to reconnect with her body through music and intention. The conversation also highlights LP's work with Fem House, an educational platform that empowers women and gender-expansive individuals in music production. She explains how representation, access, and support are key to shifting the music industry. This is a warm, inspiring, candid episode about breaking barriers, finding your voice, and leading purposefully. If you're in Denver, catch Dead House live at Meow Wolf on Bicycle Day!

The first Ishara open  House Challenge .Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Odd Happenings{8:58 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go; the Final Salvo ~ at this time}I had deposited my Mother in the place I felt was safest for her   with OT (Oyuun T m rbaatar) at the Kazakhstan's UN mission. Her being my family was what mattered to them most. I picked her up on my way to work, which made my entrance into the lobby all that much more cataclysmic.I was traveling light with only Wiesława Živa providing me with security. Chaz, Pamela and Juanita were catching up with their sleep, with a promise of taking me out for a late lunch. That was really them telling me to not leave JIKIT until they came for me around 2:00 pm.So anyway, me, Mom and Wiesława walked into the ground floor of the Mil Ma Towers to find eleven people waiting on us. We were in downtown Manhattan in a part of town the NYPD paid particular attention to. What could go wrong, right? Two of the people were Amazons from Havenstone. With them were two fine young men from the US 'don't make me kill you' Department. By this time in my life I was sure they had one   which no one talked about.Five of my expectant visitors were of the same mold as those who protected Hana for me. Not the Ghost Tigers   that would have put me at ease. Sure, they were a gang of assassin and in this circumstance; I would have preferred them. As it was, ten sets of highly-trained Illuminati operative eyes kept me, my party and the four guardians of JIKIT in their overlapping fields of vision.The last two, were doing an impromptu family reunion. They were Aunts 'X' and 'Y', and neither of them smelled like fish, or crab."Aunt Deidre," I tossed out there. "What brings you here today?"It looked like clobbering time! No. Wait. Neither Mom, nor my aunts, were saying anything and they were normally so verbose."Sibeal.""Imogen.""Sibeal, you are looking surprisingly well for a dead woman," the other one said."Deidre, you are looking surprisingly alive for someone who deserves to be dead," Mom bantered back."How long have you known about this?" Imogen's eyes flickered my way."Not long, a while, more than a day, ah, take your pick," I mumbled. I decided to turn that frown aka 'my gut wrenching terror that my Mother was about to die' upside down aka ramped up my sexy, 'glad to see you in a totally incestuous way'."So, what brings you here today and why aren't you waiting upstairs with the rest of my band of cutthroats, malcontents and ne'er do-wells? Oh, and I'm happy to see both of you." Karma was about to bitch-slap the shit out of me and it was so well deserved."I'm pregnant," Imogen studied my reaction. Yeah, I had banged her after Deidre, but before Baibre because I am a fucking reprehensible human being and sometimes, I feel I am utterly irredeemable."Great news," I exhaled. I so wanted to ask 'so, who is the father?' except that was too cruel, even for an O'Shea.No one stopped me from stepping up and hugging her. Everyone in the lobby had heard her loud and clear. Anyone who knew me, or even about me, knew she wasn't passing on the information because Imogen liked sharing good news. I kept my hands on her hips while I leaned my torso back until we could make eye contact."Does Granddad know?" It occurred to me in that second that Pamela was going to kick herself for missing this and the opportunity to kick me as well."I told him over the phone. His reaction was neutral," she responded."Whoa, girl? Boy? How are you doing? When are we going to sit down and figure out a name? Is there anything I can do for you?""Come home with me," she suggested."No," Mom snapped. "Next time he steps into your custody, we all know you won't let him get away." She meant the plane trip to Ireland."No, Mom," I countered. "I'm a grown man now and I make my own decisions. That being said   no, I'm not going home with you.""Not only am I still in love with the concept of my personal freedom, I have important work to do. People are counting on me.""We are counting on you too," Deidre stated. "In fact, that is the other reason we came here. We need you.""Why do I feel that has to do with something besides sex?""Can we talk to you in private?" Imogen requested. There were a thousand and one reasons to say 'no'. Things like 'common sense', bad behavior   they had murdered my homicidal uncle   and the fact they were as morally twisted as their creator. Oh   and they were hot and I hadn't been laid in forever."Sure. Let's go upstairs. You can have your people sweep the room to ensure our privacy then the four of us can sit down and have a family chat," I offered."We don't want her in the room," Deidre indicated Mom."We are a package deal," I denied her. "Like her, or not, she is as much family to me as you both are."They consented far too fast. Either I was falling into their masterful trap, or something horrible had happened. Neither options was palatable to me. The bodyguards departed, Wiesława last of all."What's gone wrong?" Mom preempted me. Her sisters glared."Father's body is not his own," Imogen told us. I was trying to figure out the relevance of that when Mom gasped."Oh fuck," she said in a small voice. "No serum?" Oh yeah, the refinement of those addictive pheromones Grandpa Cáel had gifted me with. Whatever flesh-form he currently inhabited wasn't one containing his genetic make-up meaning,"Oh shit," I mumbled. "What can I do?""Yes," Deidre replied to Mom."Let them die," Mom insisted (to me). Less I forget, she was raised by Grandpa Cáel too. Her being a loving mother to me didn't translate over to her being a humanitarian of any kind."The Hell you say," I jumped up and stared down at Mom. "You hate them. I don't. Letting them die makes me worse than him." Grandpa."So you will help us?" Deidre moved to the edge of her seat."Okay. This is the point where I threaten you into making some concessions, we argue then you eventually cave in because no matter how terrible your futures look, you aren't willing to give up on living. None of that is going to happen. What do you need from me?""Come back with us to Ireland so we can finish our experiments," Imogen joined me in standing. Unwilling to give her sister any physical advantage, Mom stood as well."No. That isn't even a believable lie," I scolded her. "You don't need to blackmail me into helping you. I'll do it gladly. That doesn't mean I'll let you trick me into doing something stupid. I do 'stupid' all the time. I'm accustomed to it and I know it when its ugly head rises up before me. Try again.""We could pick a neutral location," Deidre suggested."How about Havenstone?" They didn't look like that plan was even worthy of their consideration. "Imogen, inside you is growing a possible heir to House Ishara. An attack on you would be an attack on Ishara. Barring you betraying the Amazons, you would be perfectly safe.""Wonderful," Mom's sarcasm dripped off every word. "I'm going to be a grandmother to my nephew while my son is bringing a child into the world that can double as his cousin.""That sound pretty horrible, Mom. It is the truth, but it still sounds pretty terrible."While those words tumbled out of my mouth, I did a little soul back-searching. How in the fuck was   outside of the actual fucking   was Imogen pregnant? My existence was a freaking fluke of nature. A few words were bandied about the room while I was lost in deductive reasoning and turning hunches into assumptions and turning those into reasonable mystic hypotheses.I created the Mojo-Little Engine that thought it could. Specifically, the legacy of Vranus. Legions of little Vranusian sperm had been jumping hurdle after hurdle to keep the faith alive   that Vranus would meet his Ancestors with his mission accomplished. I was already half way there.Still, the legacy of Vranus and the hopes of Dot Ishara hadn't stopped in their struggle just because I had been born. They were still trying to restore the mortal descendants of a Dead House. They were also still spiritually pushing me on to fulfill his last command   to save the Arinniti sons.I was halfway there by returning the offspring of Bolu, Vranus' fellow guardian, back to the fold. It remained for me to round up the purpose of the whole mission in the first place. My semen weren't taking a chance that I could get gakked before that was accomplished. Having knocked up an augur despite the toxic soup she called blood should have been a dire warning to me, I'm an idiot.When the curse of Sarrat Irkalli clashed with the actions of Dot Ishara, Ishara had won. Sarrat Irkalli sought to deny Alal any children of his own. Dot was insisting the male line of Vranus Ishara continue on. The end result was Alal received his long-denied grandson, who just happened to also want him dead because of a feud that stretched back over two millennia.As an added insult, his grandson then knocked up one of Alal's genetically manipulated daughters, again giving him something he couldn't accomplish on his own   heirs   grand-sons and  daughters, most who would also want to kill him, being Amazons and members of the 9 Clans after all. Why? Cause Goddesses are bitches, that's why.That got me to wondering when would be the next time I was going to meet Ishara. I hadn't suffered severe head trauma in while and she was overdue for some snuggle time, witty banter and a fortune cookie. I'd try to be careful. It wouldn't do any good, but I had to try."Why are you crying?" Mom touched my arm."No reason," I lied."Why don't we make plans for tonight?" Deidre insinuated herself next to me. "We'd like to meet Hana. From what I understand, Father likes her.""No can-do," I sniffled. "I've got an orgy with 159 women at 8 o'clock, except there won't be any sex, or fun of any kind. Basically, I have to convince a roomful of women to not beat me up and take my stuff.""You don't have to go," Imogen had finished boxing me in   I had a chair behind me and Momma-clones all around."For the same reason I'm going to take care of our child, Imogen, I have to go to this meeting. People are counting on me to do the right thing without telling me what the right thing to do is.""That's unfair," Deidre empathized by stroking my chest."Not so. This is just another day in the life of a new hire at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Every day is like this and in five more days, the real fun beings." That wasn't entirely accurate. I had one good, stress-free week. It was when Carrig put me in a coma. That week I had done pretty well for myself.{9:28 am, Wednesday, Sept. 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}I trundled my latest 'Assistant-in-Charge of keeping the hopes of future Isharans alive' (I didn't want to call Aunt Imogen, or any other woman, my 'Baby-Mamma'), along with Mom and Deidre, for a meet-and-greet with Buffy. I had spelled out in no uncertain terms that Buffy was the power behind the Ishara Throne and thus making 'her' believe they were playing on the up-and-up was their best hope for easing relations between the O'Shea and the Amazon Host.After they left me (with the assurance we'd be getting back together for lunch, with Hana), I made three calls. I needed to make a formal request to Katrina (any Illuminati member(s) entering any Amazon facility was her purview) and another to Elsa (as a sign of respect) that Aunt Imogen and two unarmed bodyguards, max, needed to see our medicos about a delicate issue.The third call was to Buffy to enlighten her as to both the arrival of another one of my aunts (so we needed to get along peacefully with her) and that Aunt Imogen was carrying yet another potential heir to House Ishara. I suggested it would be a symbolic gesture if a member of House Ishara could hang around for the visit, as it might impress upon Imogen our House had a vested interest in keeping her alive."Another one?" Buffy sizzled. "And this one is your aunt?""It is a date then," I stumped her."You are going to take your pregnant aunt out on a date?" Buffy's sizzle meter was rapidly climbing to Krakatoa proportions."Nope. I'm setting up a date for us. You, me and a quiet location at 12:01 am Tuesday morning, my First. Later in the morning, I'll be heading out to wherever they have stored Felix so we can work on some cooperative strategy.""And if I say 'no'?" She was terribly grumpy."Ugh, I guess I'll go bar-crawling with Odette and Timothy, Gay and Lesbian bars only. That way I know I'll behave.""And if they say 'no'?" she was slightly less hostile."I'll know you threatened their lives, and then you and I will finally find out who is better on the mats. Trust me, it will not be an experience you will enjoy.""I don't know. I think I'd like that.""No. You start threatening the other people I love and you will not be happy; I guarantee that, Buffy."She realized I was both serious and angry. She had stepped out of bounds, the 'bounds' I had set up two hours earlier during our elevator ride."Is the meeting still on for the night?" she evaded my disappointment."Yes. Will you be there?""Of course," she grumped."Buffy, don't bother showing up if you can't separate 'us' as friends, 'us' as Wakko Ishara and my First, and you as my apprentice."Making me miserable in the first relationship doesn't help the latter two one bit. I try not to be an irresponsible asshole as House Head. More than anyone else, you know what I will sacrifice to be Ishara and one with my Isharans. I'll also step out and be plain ole 'Cáel Nyilas' when events permit.""But I am sick and tired of people not taking my desire to be foolish and care-free seriously. Being a dogmatic ass-hat isn't in me, but if you can't work with that, from here on out we are Wakko Ishara and Buffy Ishara and nothing more. I will still trust you as an Isharan, but not as a friend. Your choice.""Don't be such an asshole!" she snapped."Screw you!" I fired back. "I made a fucking effort to plan out some personal time with you, disguised as a joke; you knew it and you still decided to be a ball-buster. Like I need another fucking ball-buster right now, with all the other shit on my plate. You know better!" I was screaming. The people in JIKIT were working overtime at not staring at me."I'm under a ton of stress here too," she snarled. "I have to deal with the Council, keep our House growing and fulfill my obligations with Executive Services.""Do you want to quit? No longer by my 'apprentice'? Go back to working for Katrina full time?""Really?" she whispered."Of course the fuck not!" I shouted. "I didn't pick you for the job because of your sterling personality, or your bedroom excellence. I picked you because I had, and still have, utter faith in your ability to do whatever is necessary to overcome the landfill-sized colossal ill-fortune the Ancestors have dumped in our lap.""I'm just asking you to stop being a whiny, over-sensitive cunt and remember: it was the psychotic bitch who I chose for the top spot," I rumbled."I'm going to kick your ass," she seethed."Nice to know. We on for Monday night?"Pause."Yes," and she hung up. Two seconds later my phone rang again. "Buffy?" I answered. "And don't be late!" she menaced, then hung up again."So," Addison turned my way, "are you praying for World Peace to break out, or Nuclear War?""Hardy-har-har," I griped."Now that your personal drama is temporarily derailed, we have something for you to look at," Mehmet motioned for my attention. "Ever heard of Kōfuku no Kagaku?" I shook my head. "It translates over as 'Happy Science' and it is a cult-like organization in Japan.""Cool beans. Why do I have a sinking impression it is not a front for the Ninja?""That is what we want you to find out," Addison took over. "Of critical importance is the news conference their leader, Ryuho Okawa, gave earlier this afternoon/morning (~ 3:17 pm Tokyo time = 2:17 am East Coast time ~), especially a very relevant part of his interesting public announcement."He claims to be the Earthly manifestation of the Supreme Being. That is old news. Today he claimed that Temujin of the Khanate was the reincarnation of the original Genghis Khan and, with him, Ryuho, as the unifier of theological forces and therefore serving as spiritual advisor to Temujin, they would usher in a new period of Peace throughout Asia.""I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," I exhaled."He also claims that Japan is in the midst of an epic struggle, both spiritually and in the physical sense. The 'ancient guardians' of Japanese purity, the 6 Ninja Families, are at war with the depth of all Evil, the Chinese Seven Pillars of Heaven by name, who are determined to drag all of Asia away from the Light and into the Darkness of pain, degradation and slavery."In fact I quote: 'Alone among the nations of the Earth, only the Japanese cultural identity can stand firm against this global menace. Only the Japanese can keep the torch of true Enlightenment aloft. Only the Japanese can guide the development of the Khanate into the Supreme Empire it is meant to be'.""I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this guy is pseudo-religious, a Japanese ultra-nationalist as well as anti 'all things Sino'," came out of my mouth."Correct.""None of the Secret Societies would do something so public. Temujin's background is a mystery, but no one in the Khanate is calling him a reincarnated spirit, and they know the truth," I continued."This guy is pretty nutty," Mehmet confirmed. "He also claims to channel Buddha, Mohammed, Christ and Confucius. His followers worship him as the Earthly manifestation of the 'Supreme Being' named El Cantare, which is yet another name for any number of ancient supreme deities. And he claims to consult with the 'spirit guardians' of national leaders and aids in their mystic defense, with the aid of the Five Sacred Sisters' Spirits."Clearly this man was insane. Unfortunately, insane didn't make someone wrong,"Ah Hell," I muttered.Mehmet and Addison perked up; after all, figuring out the bizarre was my position on the team."He probably is insane, and I can't blame him," I sighed. "He isn't El Cantare; he is in touch with the Weave.""I have a feeling this is 'not good'," Addison murmured. "How bad is it?""The Five Sacred Spirit Sisters are most likely the five augurs who died in order to save Temujin, which, in turn, allies the 9 Clans with the E&S and Amazons to 'save' Japan, though it is not 'saved' yet.""Technically, the Weave IS the Supreme Being. It's largely indifferent, yet capable of doing both good and ill in response to outside (aka mortal) stimuli. If you can observe the Weave, you might be able to see the most likely path destiny is taking as well as the key players screwing with that destiny."That would include the Gong Tau sorcerers and the ninjas use of their own brand of magic; and God only knows what other mystic tricks the others have been attempting.""How do we get them to stop?" Captain Delilah Faircloth muttered."Not that easy Delilah. Everyone in this room has intersected because of a magic experiment that happened before any of us were born (Mom).""The fight at Summer Camp was flipped on its head because I saw the ghost the 7 Pillars sent to scout the area. My freeing of one of those trapped and tortured souls led to the calamity at the Barbeque Pit. I didn't use magic. I countered it. Still, my actions were interfering with the Weave."All four people the augurs, those Five Sisters, told me about had been dead at some point in time, some for thousands of years. Ajax didn't kill anyone using magic. Neither has Saku, yet both of them are products of disruptions in the Weave. 'Me' being alive and breathing is yet another disruption, since I shouldn't exist because of another mystic curse from five thousand years ago."Being alive and killing people means I've killed people who shouldn't be dead. Do we need to go into all the millions that have died in the Khanate war? Which was a combination of a resurrected Temujin and the 7 Pillars hunger for World Domination, if we do nothing, the rippled of those other disruption will still carry on."Except for me, no one on this taskforce has used an iota of magic, yet we are all dedicated to combatting mystical forces," I related to the group. I wondered where Rikki (Martin) and Beatrice (Ya Konan) had gotten off to. Lady Yum-Yum being absent only made my 'Scooby' senses tingle more."You use magic?" Agent-86 tilted his head in curiosity."I talk to a Goddess on a semi-regular business. I see ghosts. I've been the conveyer of messages from dead people and I've killed an un-killable man. Do we need to go back over my kidnapping by the 7 Pillars? The memories of my undead Grandfather floating around in my head?""I'm not calling thunderbolts out of the sky and shooting fireballs out my ass, but what I am doing is magical, nonetheless.""So, what do we recommend to our allies and benefactors (i.e., our sovereign governments)?" Mehmet inquired."Hmm, we tell our governments this crackpot is a Prophet of Doom who could be turned into an asset," I rubbed my brow with all four fingers and a thumb. Rikki, Beatrice and Lady Worthington-Burke quietly entered the room. They were all highly pleased in a 'I just won the lottery' kind of way. I was curious, but had to carry on with my train of thought."Quietly start seeking out other mystic societies, preferably low-key, quiet types who avoid the limelight, and start looking into other forms of magical insight and, quite frankly, protection. If the Weave has let this happen, we can expect worse. Lastly, I'll ask my 'Brother' to meet with this guy and get a feel for his personality.""That will only increase the believability of his ramblings," Addison protested."The boat called 'Denial' has already sailed. The World is in crisis. People are going to look for non-conventional answers. It is better to get ahead of this and bring Ryuho Okawa on board as a 'consultant'. Don't give him the whole picture by any means. The guy is definitely a loose cannon. Even worse, he is also a loose cannon the Weave has touched.""Besides, the Seven Pillars are going to figure this out pretty quick, their Weave sensitivity, ya know, and either kidnap him to be their own spiritual seismic sensor, or kill him for being both a loose cannon and yet another person screwing with their 'best laid plans'. Keeping him alive has the added benefit of making the Seven Pillars expend resources trying to get at him. Japan needs every bit diversion they can get."Let's not forget to tell our Secret Society allies of our plans, lest they kill him too. His babblings aren't going to make the 9 Clans or the E&S happy with him. They both have an established habit of making perceived enemies dead. Let's keep him alive and utilize this opportunity.""I like this plan," Addison nodded. Mehmet was clearly on board as well. Agent-86 clearly was playing the best on-line mystic MMORPG ever! (And with the added bonus that his team's action had real-world consequences.) The three 'ladies' new to the room received an abbreviated version of our discussion and my 'suggestions'. They weren't really suggestions. Barring a few insanely criminal endeavors, JIKIT treated me like a true asset."Something else big?" Addison looked to her British counterpart (Yum-Yum)."The Japanese Diet has voted for a public referendum on a Constitutional Amendment to repeal/revise Article 96 of the Japanese Constitution.""Oh fuck," was echoed, either verbally or subliminally, by everyone in the room except for me, Delilah and Agent-86.'Cáel' knew Jack and Shit about the Japanese Constitution. Hell, I barely knew about the US one and I was a native. However, Alal did know it, and knew both what Article 96 was and what its amendment really meant. Good-old 96 was the rolling dark cloud across the political Great Plains that heralded a swarm of tornados. Clouds were clouds and their arrival could mean anything.Article 96 dictated how the Japanese Constitution could be amended. The current process was a 2/3rd vote in both the House of Councilors (the 'Upper House', roughly equivalent to our Senate) and the House of Representatives (the 'Lower' House) followed by a public referendum. The proposed amendment to Article 96 would transform the process to a mere majority vote in both Houses.Imagine the shit-storm which would be unleashed if the US Congress tried to pull that shit. The biggest political issue was that the Japanese Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) held 294 of the 475 seats in the lower house (a clear majority) and 115 of the 242 in the Upper House (7 seats short of a majority). If the amendment passed next month (October 14th to be precise), the LDP could pretty much do as they pleased.And what was the first thing they were going to do? They were going to put to rest another part of the Constitution, namely the far more globally important Article 9. And what was that?Real World Stuff: WarningsArticle 9:(1)Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes.(2)To accomplish the aim of the preceding paragraph, land, sea, and air forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The right of belligerency of the state will not be recognized.If Article 9 was repealed, the Japanese nation could exercise diplomacy by military means, aka declaring an offensive war against a foreign power. Currently Japan had a modest budget military budget of $48 Billion a year (Earth's 10th largest). It was modest when you considered it was a mere 1% of the Japanese GDP. Great Britain, France and South Korea's smaller economies all functioned nicely with double that percentage for their military budget.Regionally, every other nation was increasing their military expenditures, except Japan's protector, the US and (perhaps) North Korea, who's spending on anything was a closely guarded state secret. Right now, China and the Khanate's military expenditures were running roughly even at $180 billion each, but this was an arm's race the PRC would eventually win, they had too great an advantage in the size of their workforce and a far larger industrial base.The truth was, if the PRC couldn't win this race fast, she was facing a long, grinding war reminiscent of the Communists' Long Rise to Power that wrecked their country a century ago. The monetary dynamic was shifting badly against them because the Khanate wasn't alone.India, Taiwan and Vietnam were also ramping up their war spending to a combined tune of $34 billion and now allied with the Khanate, equating to an additional $90 billion the PRC had to overcome. South Korea was already adding $8 billion to their military and Russia was taxing the fuck out of Manchuria to both pay for their 'Peaceful Intervention' and to increase the 'Readiness' of their other forces.All of this military spending was bad for both the regional and global economies (unless you were Israel who was turning out hardware 24/7/365 for the Khanate and Indian war machines). So at this point, Japan doing 'nothing' was possibly more disastrous than doing 'something' else.They were already spending $50 fucking billion on glorified policemen while the future of East Asia was being decided without them. Doubling the military budget would place a huge burden on the largely pacifistic population. It would also put Japan in the position of deciding the Fate of Nations.With the repeal of Article 9, Japan could utilize 'proactive means' to keep the naval supply routes to China open, not even the Indian's had the naval presence to confront the Japanese. Such a policy was a nice, friendly gesture to the Asian Colossus, who wasn't likely to show a shred of appreciation for their efforts.No, China had spent the last 60 years stoking the hatred of the Land of the Rising Sun among their people. (Many Japanese forgot current Chinese hatred was based on the Japanese butchering their way across China for nearly a decade between 1937 to 1945).(The Cornerstone) There was a truism which had guided American, Chinese, Japanese and Russian political thought for 150 years: 'There could only be one supreme power in East Asia and the Eastern Pacific'. Japan had followed the logical expression of that paradigm by invading Taiwan (1895), Korea (1910), beating up on Imperial Russia (1904), taking Manchuria (1931) and going to war with China (1937) while that country was trapped in a bloody civil war.To stop the Empire of Japan's rise, the US had attempted to cripple the Japanese economy before the Empire could harvest their just-acquired Asian natural resources. In response, Japan had thrown its soldiers and sailors into a futile effort against the British Empire, the United States and China and lost.With Imperial Japan crushed and the Soviet Union preoccupied in Europe, China had risen. The irresistible force of China's rapidly increasing population, natural resources exploitation and extensive land mass took hold. Japan couldn't compete in a 'fair' fight. Since 1945, the Japanese government had lived with the fear of aggression from Russia and/or China aimed their way.The US felt the same way, or they had. The fear produced by the broad acceptance of 'Only-One-Shall-Rule-Asia' had led to the Korean War, the half-century cease-fire along the Demilitarized Zone in Korea and the Vietnamese Civil War. The Communists in China and Russia had feuded until the Soviet Union collapsed under its own economic inadequacies.A reborn Russia, even with the ultra-nationalist Putin at the helm, couldn't stop China's growing domination. Asia was China's for the taking, until the Khanate rose up like some desert mirage in the Western Steppe, one that turned into the Mother of All Storms. So now, miraculously, the dominion of Asia was up for grabs once more.Japan could not overcome China; that was a given. The Dragon had more people, more resources and an almost three-fold larger economy. Given a decade, the PRC would grind the Khanate down. Once more it was the tyranny of numbers. Even India, Taiwan and Vietnam could only slow down the inevitable.India's subpar economic output marginalized the power of their citizenry. Taiwan had the proportional economy, but not nearly enough people. Vietnam had neither and had always had a rough time defending themselves, much less been successful confronting powers beyond her homeland. Putin's Mother Russia had a host of other problems, internal and external, so she had already contributed as much as Putin dared.Until Thursday morning, Tokyo Time, the undeniable Destiny of Asia remained in the hands of those men in Beijing. The dominoes were falling in a way those rulers had not foreseen and now fumed over. But on Wednesday night, there was no industrial power (with the population to back it up) which could threaten the People's Republic of China.Europe and the US wouldn't intervene. Much like the leadership in Japan, the Communist Chinese Politburo believed Putin had wagered as much as dared. No other nation on Earth mattered. Japan? That was laughable. Their Constitution bound the hands off their military behind their backs with a pledge of eternal pacifism.The Chinese weren't blind to the 250,000 men and women of the Japanese Self Defense Force. Without the political will, those troops might have well have been in Brazil. A hostile Brazil was actually a greater worry because Brazil was the powerhouse of South America, a G-8 economy and hungered for a Permanent Seat on the UN Security Council. The PRC was dedicated to denying their desire as it would have diluted the PRC's burgeoning diplomatic power.Japan? Ha.Thursday morning, in what was essentially an undetected (by anyone except the Ninja and JIKIT) coup d' tat, pacifism was sacrificed on the Altar of Nationalism. Article 96's demise was pre-ordained. A poll taken on July 1st, 42% of Japanese felt positively about the repeal of Article 96 while 46% opposed it.The same agency took a new poll on August 28th. The economic-political situation of Japan was going through a titanic tidal shift. If Buddhism moved you toward devout pacifist, the Khanate had liberated Tibet and was clearly withdrawing as the UN troops' boots hit the ground.If you were a Nationalist of any kind, you were seeing a whole lot more people at your rallies, accessing your websites and signing up to join your formerly fringe parties. If you were a Socialist, you were scared. Why? The PRC was in the process of nationalizing all of Japan's (and South Korea's and Taiwan's) business interests in China, for the 'Duration of the Emergency', or so they said.That meant plenty of Japanese workers were losing their jobs and looking to blame someone. You couldn't blame the centrist LDP. The LDP had been working alongside the Japanese Communist Party for months. They had done nothing wrong and had worked tirelessly for a peaceful diplomatic solution. It was their 'comrades' in China, their Marxist confederates, who were costing the hard-working Japanese workers their jobs.If you were in the Establishment, all of the above worried the crap out of you. Japan's economy had been limping along at barely-positive growth for a decade. Your aging population needed more and more from their public services and, worst of all, you had nothing in your political and economic tool box to escape the obvious oncoming national catastrophe.The possibility of a Global Recession loomed on the horizon, if they were lucky. Highly respected economists in Japan and elsewhere were examining all the key indicators over the past three months and were suggesting hording as a viable policy for middle class households to consider. If you were in the Developing World, worse was heading your way.The word being bandied about on those esteemed academic internet websites wasn't 'recession', it was depression. Global prosperity thrived on nations investing in both their own economy and the economies of other nations. The governments representing a third of the World's population were not investing in their economies.Unless you were a war profiteer, you could expect fewer consumer goods on the shelves; and what was there would cost more. Your income wasn't going up; your expenses were. If you were an Atheistic homeowner in the Western World with a secured 3.25% fixed rate home loan, you took up religion. The prime interest rate would be racing for the 20% mark and that was only if your economy was stable.If you lived in a country in the Developing World, your trade goods didn't compete with those created in the G-20. Your competition was with other Developing World businesses and the prize was the pocketbooks of those consumers in the G-20, which was a shrinking purse.It wasn't like you were being paid all that much to begin with; and now those once poor-paying, but at least plentiful, jobs were drying up. You needed your government to help you out. It wasn't like those governments could raise money by taxing the unemployed and under-employed. They didn't have money. And the rich in most of those same nations had a long and successful legacy of avoiding paying.Those growing economies had a few tried and tested 'solutions' for getting their countries through these rough stretches.The IMF? 'We are out to make 'positive' capital investments and your economic outlook doesn't look promising. We suggest 'austerity'.'The BRICS? Since India and China were basically in an undeclared state of war: 'we won't be loaning anyone anything for a while.'The BIS? 'As soon as the People' Bank of China, the Reserve Bank of India, the Central Bank of Ireland, the Bank of Israel and the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey get back to us about their sudden, serious lack of transparency, we'll call you back.'World Bank? Holy Shit! 'The world's going down the toilet, we will do what we can.'F Y I, I (as in Cáel) had been wrong. The 6 Elders of the Ninja families didn't talk to Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee. They talked with another, far more immediately important man. So sue me (Cáel) for not knowing the inner workings of various world governments, and creatively interpreting events surrounding all those people I (Cáel) didn't. I'm a freaking Liberal Arts major with a fertile imagination, not a superspy, or even a competent Intelligence Analyst!}The Japanese government had appealed to the U.S., U.N., P.R.C., A.S.E.A.N., India; and (through back channels aka JIKIT) the Khanate for an end to this madness; all with typical results:The U.S.A: We are working on it (without letting them know what precisely they were working on)Japan: Well, do something fast. Our Government Bonds are about to be more useful as wallpaper.The U.N.: We are working on it (with their long-established tradition of not doing anything until the crisis had passed)Japan: You are preparing to pass a Resolution to move this matter from the First Committee to the Fourth Committee, gee, thanks guys. Will they be meeting sometime before Christmas?The PRC: We are too busy right now, so shut up, keep the trade lanes open, and was that your submarine we detected sneaking into our territorial waters?Japan: What? What do you mean you are 'too busy?' You are one of our biggest trading partners, your economy is going down the toilet, and, No! That was not our submarine in your territorial waters. That accusation is absurd.(Note from Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Admiral Katsutoshi Kawano, head of the JMSDF {the de facto Japanese Navy}), The PRC has made this outrageous claim that one of our submarines has been sneaking around their territorial waters. There is no truth to that rumor, right?Kawano: Which time?Prime Minister: Oh My God! What have you people been doing and why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?Kawano: Sir, if you are just now getting around to asking us, you don't want to know.Prime Minister: What do you mean 'I don't want to know?' I'm the head of the damn government and, you are right. Fine. There is no way I'm going back to the Chinese Ambassador and apologizing for any this. Is there any way this can come back to screw us over?Kawano: With all these US and British submarines helping us out, not very likely, Prime Minister.Prime Minister: Oh, very good. You are correct, I don't want to know what you 'haven't' been doing. I am ordering you to destroy all transcripts and recordings of this conversation.Kawano: It has been my distinct honor not having this conversation with you, Prime Minister. Sayōnara.ASEAN, What do you expect us to do about this? Have you seen the unimpressive combined sizes of our members' air forces and navies? Did you see the smack-down the Khanate has inflicted on the PLAN's South China Sea Fleet?Besides, the PRC is claiming that the Khanate launched covert attacks against the Parcels and Spratly islands which originated from Indonesian and Filipino waters. We are investigating the issue. If you are asking us for help, you are truly screwed. Don't call us. We will call you.Japan, {muttering} Investigating the attacks that came from your territory, bullshit! You are covering your own asses, damn it!(Note from Prime Minister, Shinzō Awbee, to Shotaro Yachi, Japanese National Security Advisor), I've heard an ugly rumor that the Khanate has forces secreted in the Philippines and Indonesia. Do you happen to know anything about it?Yachi: Yes Sir. We had advance notice of the organization, composition and destination of those forces.Awbee (while muttering 'no one tells me anything anymore'): What the! Would you please tell me what is going on.Yachi: We have made critical steps toward future alliances which will guarantee Japanese security for decades to come.Awbee What does that mean, and since when have you been creating and implementing foreign policy? We have a Minister for that, in case you somehow over-looked him at the last cabinet meeting. Wait! Does he know about this too?Yachi: No Sir, Foreign Minister Kishida is currently unaware of the Kinkyū tokushu sakusen tasukufōsu (Emergency Special Operations Task Force). Admiral Katsutoshi knows the basics of our operational policy, since we need to borrow some of his assets from time to time. Director-General Kitada (of the Public Security Intelligence Agency) and key personnel from the Foreign Ministry's Intelligence & Analysis Service and Security Bureau make up the majority of the task force's operatives.Awbee: What have you been doing?Yachi: You don't want to know, Mr. Prime Minister. It would make things, awkward.Awbee: 'You don't want to know', of course, I don't. I'm only the elected head of this government. Why would I possibly want to know what acts of espionage and war my deputies are executing?Yachi: I am glad we are on the same page, Sir. Will there be anything else?Awbee: No, wait. Do you have any intelligence on what the Khanate is up to?Yachi: Yes Sir. Is there anything in particular you want to know?Analysis Services: Can you contact someone in their leadership willing to discuss regional affairs?Yachi: I can put you in touch with the Great Khan himself if necessary.AS: What!Yachi: Sir, I would hardly be acting in our nation's best interests if I couldn't divine the intentions of the key players on the stage. Shall I initiate the necessary communications to facilitate that level of clandestine diplomatic contact?AS: No. Yes. No, I need to think about this. Hmm, have you been conducting any domestic espionage missions?Yachi: You don't want me to answer that, Sir.Awbee: of course I don't, I'm only the damn Prime Minister. Shotaro, I'm still Prime Minister, aren't I?Yachi: Yes Sir. We have been working overtime to ensure that. We've foiled two enemy assassination attempts and one attempted kidnapping so far. We remain vigilant.AS: How come this is the first I'm hearing about it? Is the head of my security in on this conspiracy of yours too?Yachi: No Sir. These particular guardians wish to avoid notoriety at all costs.Awbee: Okay. Good to know. Ah, keep up the good work and destroy any trace of this conversation.Yachi: Way ahead of you, Sir. Have a good night.India, Yes, we are more than willing to work with you toward regional stability. Care to acknowledge the Khanate's legitimacy first? We'd really appreciate it. Sure, get back to us when you've done that. Until then, the South China Sea Awaits! Yes, we plan to keep what we've earned. Later now. We think there is going to be further instability in Southeast Asia.Japan, Ya think? It is your damn warships sailing around the freaking South China Sea enforcing your utterly un-secret alliance with the Khanate. Why are you doing this to us? What have we ever done to you?The Khanate, We are not out to damage your national interests. We apologize, but there is now way we will call off this war with the Communist Chinese. It is them, or us, to the death. We have already received and agreed to your request to allow all Japanese flagged ships safe transit through the South China Sea. We really wish to be your friends this time, to make up for those two invasion attempts seven hundred years ago.(Note from  Prime Minister to Self) Great. The only reasonable people who aren't out to kick me in the nuts are also the ones I can't acknowledge talking to. I've got to do something a

I couldn't be more psyched for this week's guest, LP Giobbi. LP is an absolute bundle of joy and light and her shows are life-affirming and community-building celebrations that connect us through the common bonds we all share.  LP is a DJ, Producer, jazz-pianist and activist. She was one of NPR's Favorite New Musicians of 2023 following her debut album Light Places, and her latest album Dotr, features Danielle Ponder, Portugal. The Man, Alabama Shakes and Holly Bowling, among others.  LP has played a multitude of festivals including Coachella, Lollapalooza, Electric Forest with the likes of Diplo and SofiTukker, just to name a few. She is also well-known in the jam band community for her Dead House performances featuring electronic versions of the music of Grateful Dead, and her stellar 2023 remix of Jerry Garcia's 1972 album, Garcia, is a perfect example of building the bridges that create those common bonds. I talk to LP about her life as a performer and what exactly it has taken (and at what cost) to get to this point, and we also explore her work as an advocate and activist. She founded Femme House, a nonprofit that advocates for gender equity in electronica, heads up her label Yes Yes Yes, and is also Global Music Director for W Hotels. LP is Everywhere, to loosely quote a Dead motto. This is truly one of my favorite interviews, and LP is a bright, shining light that you will learn so much more about through this amazing conversation!!For more information on Roadcase: https://linktr.ee/roadcasepod and https://www.roadcasepod.comOr contact Roadcase by email:  info@roadcasepod.comRoadcase theme music:  "Eugene (Instrumental)" by Waltzer

Hello? Is it me you're looking for? Oh, I should have guessed you were looking for a chicken and not me. Sorry to bother you. Anyway, in this episode about Chapter 9, Aaron checks in with his possible privilege as we discuss Kahlan's current marriage situation. We also draw upon the very obvious parallels between the Sword of Truth cast and the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. Lastly, we have a very important question for you all in the outro so at the very least, make sure to fast forward to that and help us out. I mean, wait, listen to the whole thing! I'm not good at marketing... We do sing though so... there's that!

Ash Men, Sins, and the Will of the Ancestors. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. ‘Do you think you know who you are? Step outside your comfort zone.'  11:00 p.m. Thursday Night. Rhada stood by the Lily Pond. She'd looked at her phone once. A couple had walked past, causing me to delay my approach and heightened Rhada's unease; an unexpected bonus. It wasn't too difficult of a shot with my air pistol. The only light functioning in the area went out in a crash of light. She jumped slightly then crouched and scanned the surrounding overgrowth. The light had robbed her of her night vision which allowed me to get close. I snapped the air pistol off into its three parts. Running around with any kind of gun in NYC wasn't wise. In the same vein, the 'stun gun' I now brandished was all light and no shock. It was all theater for Rhada's imagination. With the flash of my weapon, Rhada's eyes bore in on my location. Her small knife was now over-matched, so her only option was flight. A smart 'victim' would race for the well illuminated road close by. Hunters who hunted hunters did what Rhada did; she raced into a geographic feature in Central Park called the Ravine. It was tough, uneven terrain off the beaten path. I had walked it once before, in dim light. This night I was aided by a half-Moon and the faintest clue of where the chase was leading while Rhada was having to figure things out as she ran. At the last second, she sensed she had lost the race. She spun around to slash at me; she was playing for keeps. I swung down, losing my false stun device while I knocked her knife free. I had lashed downward so that I could find her knife later; it was important to her. My tool cost $3 and I could live without it. We struggled. Rhada tried to scream so I covered her mouth with my sweater-covered forearm. Dutifully, she bit down. More close body wrestling ensued and I could tell Rhada was truly famished for the attention. I cuffed her hands behind her back, slapped some Christmas tape over her lips; I swear that stuff has no adhesive; and retrieved her knife. ‘What is it going to be, little Sweet-meat?' I taunted her softly as I caught my breath. I had Rhada pressed face-first in the loam. Despite her strenuous efforts to keep her legs together, I rubbed my hand between her legs. ‘Fuck it,' I mused. ‘You are a real whore. You are soaking wet over some guy running you down and making you a fuck-hole.' I wasn't sure she was wet and being called 'fuck-hole' really excited her. ‘You are probably so loose I couldn't feel a thing if I did fuck you,' I kept up the pressure. ‘Maybe I'll strip you down and leave you tied to a lamp post; write 'Free Slut' and see who is desperate enough to screw you. If I said '$5 per hole', do you think anyone would leave some sort of payment?' She whimpered. Soon enough, I located her knife. Without warning, I slipped it past her waistband and began sawing/cutting her pants down past the crotch. She was wet alright. I loudly unzipped my pants. After slapping against her molten labia a few times, ‘What? You don't want to be used by every diseased homeless deviant and drunk rapist roaming the park?' Rhada shook her head rapidly in the negative. ‘Do you really think you can do a damn thing to make me want to keep you?' I egged her on. Rhada thrust her ass back. Rhada whined, repositioned and managed to capture on her second attempt. She wept with rapture as I began pushing. All I had to do was lean forward slightly and let Rhada do all the work. She hammered with a voracious yearning. I was rather concerned what she would have been like if it had been a whole month. Rhada was sobbing and shuddering as pleasure wracked her body. I almost missed the soft crunch of leaves right behind me. I snatched up Rhada's knife and rolled halfway over. Oneida, tears in her eyes and her face etched in horror, was poised to strike me. ‘No,' Oneida groaned in a small, devastated voice. Yeah, this was going to be hard to explain. Rhada, on hearing the noise, rolled on her side so that she was mostly shielded by me. Do not scream 'this is not what it looks like', or 'let me explain' to a traumatized girlfriend. Wait until they are not traumatized to escape the disaster. ‘What are you going to do?' I whispered. Suggest that she make a decision because, guess what, she needs to make decision, not stew in the madness of the moment. ‘How could you?' Oneida lowered her attack stance and took a half-step back. ‘There is no way I can explain this,' I sighed. My legs came up to shield my exposed crotch plus I dropped Rhada's knife. ‘Even if I could make this sound rational, I wouldn't put you in that spot. This is an impossible reality.' Okay, that last bit was bullshit. ‘Is Rhada okay?' Oneida began to focus on the immediate and relegated the past five minutes and the forthcoming repercussions to 'things to do later'. I freed Rhada's hands and then removed the tape. Rhada picked up her blade and readied it. ‘Ask her yourself,' I suggested. Sensing Rhada's insanity rising up. ‘No Rhada, you cannot stab her. I won't allow it.' Rhada glared pure, un-distilled hate at Oneida, something the poor girl couldn't understand. ‘Rhada, I came here to save you,' Oneida gasped. She also prepared to fight. ‘You came to take my Cáel for yourself,' Rhada spat. Oneida was back to not understanding anything. It would come soon enough. Women are women after all. ‘I need to; get something from my backpack,' I warned them both. No one attacked me so I pulled out a set of black jeans and black panties for Rhada. ‘You brought a change of clothes for her?' Oneida was still playing 'kinky games' catch up. ‘Of course he brought me clothes, you insipid fool,' Rhada seethed. ‘How could we bind our souls into one if I had to walk around; ?' Rhada stopped. The idea of walking around naked in my presence appealed to her. ‘None of this makes any sense,' Oneida protested. It didn't matter. ‘Oneida, are your guardians close by?' I asked. I knew the answer, but getting that information out to these to ladies was relevant. Oneida nodded. ‘Rhada, get dressed and go home. Oneida, go home. I'll try to have this make sense to you one day,' I said. ‘No!' Rhada yelped as if I'd stuck her. ‘I cannot wait any longer.' ‘Rhada, unless you want Madi to find out and then have ringside seats as starving dogs tear me to pieces, you have to go,' I insisted. I wasn't afraid of hungry dogs. The Amazons wouldn't waste the time when they could slit my throat and be done with it. We all three heard a rustle of footsteps maybe fifteen meters away. Rhada looked at me as if she'd witnessed the murder of every kitten on the planet, then shot venom Oneida's way and finally snuck off, new clothes in hand. Oneida gave me a different look, one etched in sadness and unspoken heartache. She went off to bump into her bodyguards. I holstered my 'junk' and sat back, wondering why I dated crazy women. The answer was always the same; the sex was fantastic. I'd pay the bill later. (Friday Morning) I was damn tired getting into work. I locked my bike, walked into the lobby and realized something was horribly wrong. A dozen pairs of eyes riveted me with their aggression. The security chicks were in their usual places and unsettling in their nervousness. The dozen sets of eyes; those were Full-Blooded killers, not the standard 'Runner' security types. Adding to my discomfort, there was no Constanza, or even Naomi. A few of the normal ladies from the Security Detail where there; sadly, I had never caught their names, but they didn't look like they were waiting for me specifically. I walked up to the security booth, took out my ID badge and offered it up. What followed was mere formality. Of all of the hundreds of males in biker clothes coming into this masculine version of the Sixth layer of Hell, they needed to be absolutely sure it was me. ‘Cáel Nyilas,' the women at the guard station intoned and in they swarmed. Armed with personal defense weapons (read: SMG's) with hair-triggers, I had a split second to decide who I really was. A few were clearly SD. The rest; House Guard for families I didn't recognize. ‘Have I just won Publisher's Clearing House sweepstakes, or what?' I grinned foolishly. I'm sure you can be very cool, calm, collected and rational while you laugh at death. I'm not that guy. One of the brutes tried to run off with my valise, a quick tug of war developed and four gun barrels were pushed into me. ‘Let go,' one of them hissed. ‘Do I at least get a claim check?' I countered. What I got was a gun barrel slammed down on the back of my hand. My fingers automatically flexed and my carrying case was taken away. The remaining seven members of the Welcome Wagon hustled me to a stairwell; not an elevator and down I went. Two proceeded me into a moderately sized conference down two levels with the rest following behind. We were doing fine until the coffle chains came out. That was my 'screw it' moment. It took me two seconds to realize they were no longer going to shoot me. I came to this revelation when I smashed the face of the guard right behind me. She stumbled into guards four through seven behind her. Guards one and two, already in the room, holding my chains, rushed in. One came in with a low sweeping kick. I went even lower, caught her leg and whipped her into the wall. I was on my back as number two advanced. Our legs tangled up, we both grappled, but I had strength and leverage. I pounded her temple against the corner of the table twice; hard. Then came the pain. The rest flooded the room. Number two was down, number one was momentarily stunned and the other five were deadly serious and coming on fast. To all our credits, they didn't try to overwhelm me with numbers. They closed in from both sides of the table, backing me against a wall. I was pretty good at fighting. I had damaged three of them striking from surprise. Surprise was gone now, as was their sloppy arrogance. This was all business and there was no way I could take on even two of these skilled warriors at the same time. Any advantage I gained over one, I'd lose to the other one so down I went. I was chained up before I could stop seeing double. Collar, hands cuffed at the back, leg shackles and all linked by twin chains. I wasn't going anywhere fast. I wasn't done yet. I tried to squirm around to a sitting position. ‘Stop that,' one of the guards stated. ‘I'd like to sit up, please,' I requested. With barely a pause, two guards came up, put my back to a wall then went back to their positions. ‘Thank you,' I responded. Several guards looked at me and smirked. Huh? ‘They all said you would fight,' the leader grinned. ‘We were getting a little disappointed then you chose that chokepoint to make your stand. That was clever,' she informed me. ‘Actually it was the sight of the chains that set me off,' I said. ‘Against seven of you I had no realistic chance. If I let myself get chained up, I knew I was completely out of options.' Several of the women nodded. Were any of them pissed? Apparently not. Even the one I'd cold-conked rubbed her temple and smiled at me. I worked in an insane asylum. ‘Is there any way I could make a video message?' I inquired. ‘No,' was the reply. ‘Please. Aya of the Epona is at Summer Camp and I want her to know that I'm okay, but won't be able to see her for a while,' I pled my case. ‘You will never be able to see her again, so why bother?' another asked. ‘I love her. Better to give her the illusion I may one day return than the harsh reality that she is doomed to end up like the rest of you,' I explained. ‘Save some of that defiance for your relocation,' the leader snickered. ‘You'll need it.' ‘Thanks. I will,' I sighed. There was a pause. They were being rather gregarious. ‘You've accepted your fate?' the one I'd knocked out questioned. ‘The fate you want for me? No. That this will mean my death; yes,' I shrugged. ‘Bravado,' a different Amazon snorted. ‘You think so? Once I am relocated I have nothing left to live for. Every ounce of my being will be devoted to ending the hollow parody of an existence I'm left with,' I stared at her. ‘I've beaten your ilk enough times to know I'll escape that life before too long.' That earned me some silence. They began talking amongst themselves. The group was a mixed group of House Guard and Security Detail reinforcements from other facilities. They either knew each other, or knew someone in common. An hour in, this had become incredibly boring. ‘When is the meeting?' I asked a women temporarily not in a conversation. She didn't look surprised. She hid it well. ‘What meeting?' she countered. I lowered my chin to my chest. ‘Do you know where I work, what I did yesterday, or how easy it was to figure this out?' I looked up. ‘What do you know?' she prodded. The others were now watching. ‘I work for Executive Services, I spent much of yesterday making housing arrangements for a ton of emergency visitors, and since I've been doing so many stupid things, plus my reception this morning, I assume the New Directive is under attack,' I laid out my case. ‘If you figured all that out, why did you show up today?' the leader wondered. ‘I work here. I have a 6:00 am session on the firing range. Work starts at 7:00 and normally goes to 5:00 with a 3:00 pm break for knife training. Then I either bike home, or work out in the gym, or the pool. Barring being called back to work on a special order, I get a date, a meal and then sex until midnight,' I mused. ‘I came to work today for the same reason I came in yesterday and last week; I work for a bunch of homicidal lunatics, a few of whom I care for,' I answered. ‘Their friendship and affection is pointless. I'm good-looking and amusing, a passing distraction in their lives and none of that matters one iota to my survival. I face my condemnation alone and I am okay with that.' ‘You sound angrier than your words indicate,' an Amazon noted. ‘I am angry. I don't desire death,' I shrugged. ‘I don't think I deserve this fate yet here we are. Personally, I know I put my hope in karmic rewards for all of us.' ‘What would that be?' the leader said. She was making small talk to alleviate the boredom. ‘Today; today I think you deserve a lingering, 24 hour torturous death. Starting with the very youngest followed by the next youngest and the next youngest proceeding in quick succession so that the oldest of you watch your lineages waste away. I want you gripped with hopelessness and despair as you are rendered powerless to control your futures. That's a fitting ending for the Amazon race today,' I stated. ‘Does that fantasy make you feel better?' she pressed, somewhat amused. ‘Of course not,' I laughed. ‘That is surrendering to hate and that would make me as bad as all of you.' ‘You know nothing of us,' she said and the others laughed. ‘Yeah; right. So, how many of you have murdered your paternal unit? Did you herd them into gas chambers, shoot them in the head, or slit their throats?' I grinned. ‘Do you dump those men and your sons in a massed unmarked graves, or burn them like rubbish? Those poor bastards have gotten the last laugh,' I chuckled. ‘Sterile females, deformed babies; you taught those men a lesson alright.' ‘You are all such epic bad-asses, you've butchered your way to extinction. But, hey, you've got your racial superiority, right?' I chortled. ‘You should shut up now,' the leader's eyes narrowed. I shrugged. This time, I had killed the mood so we sat in silence. An undetermined time later, Constanza stormed in and threw my clothes at me; no sign of the rest of my gear, or valise. ‘Get dressed,' she ordered. ‘Why?' I asked. She kicked me. The kick was aimed at my ribs, but I able to set up a knee block up in time. ‘You will do it because you've been told to do it,' Constanza snapped. I stayed where I was. ‘Help me get him dressed,' she addressed the room. I lost the fight if there was any doubt. I looked like a re-dressed corpse. No one would think I'd dressed myself. A few minutes later, the whole troupe plus Constanza frog-marched me to the elevators. I was shackled up thus taking small steps. I ended up farther down that I'd ever been before. Along the way I was given several quick examinations before being taken to two massive wooden doors with two SD guards, one being Naomi. She looked at my chains speculatively. ‘He has been summoned,' Constanza informed the door guards. One of my initial capturers began unlocking my restraints. I debated putting a knee to her head. That seemed rude so I refrained from violence. Naomi took me by the elbow while the other guard opened one of the doors. She led me into the nearly empty, cavernous room. Eight SD troopers were along the walls and Elsa stood at attention close to what I reasoned was Hayden's chair. ‘Stand there,' Elsa pointed to a large piece of slate with a rune upon it. ‘Sure,' I did as I was instructed. ‘Why am I here?' ‘Your only real hope is to be quiet and well-behaved, Cáel,' Elsa told me, resuming her statuesque stance. I honestly figured this was it for me. My jacket came off. I threw it to the closest chair. The tie came off next, looping it through my belt; because it looked weird. I kicked off my shoes and removed my socks, stuffing the socks in the shoes and tossing them to the chair with my jacket. Then I started my morning warm up routine. Sure enough, groups of paired women began entering the room, giving me odd looks before taking their seats. I was doing some handstand push-up (thanks Yasmin) when Katrina walked in with a woman I didn't know. ‘Good morning Cáel Nyilas,' she said. ‘This is my cousin, Arwen.' The push-up, tuck, flip and finishing up with landing on your feet ain't easy. I added to the difficult by successfully landing on my designated piece of slate floor. ‘Did your clothing magically fall of, or did they fail to finish dressing you?' Katrina smirked. ‘Cut me some slack, Boss. I'm three insults away from slinging poo,' I grinned back. ‘Nice to meet you, Arwen,' I offered my hand. She looked at it, but didn't shake. ‘She's your apprentice?' I groaned to Katrina. She nodded. ‘That is so not good for me. What did I do wrong this time?' ‘She thinks I have invested too much of our House prestige in this New Directive and you in particular,' Katrina enlightened me. ‘What is her survival stratagem then?' I ignored Arwen while addressing Katrina. ‘Have her cake and eat it too,' Katrina mused. ‘She thinks we recruit males then kidnap them and make them our slaves; because that has worked so well for us until now. To be fair, she favors genetics while ignoring such things as spirit, courage and loyalty.' ‘I'm about to die so any insight I might provide is pointless,' I shrugged. ‘Take care Katrina.' ‘Male, we are not here to kill you. You will be taken to a facility for breeding,' Arwen 'clarified' things for me. Katrina and I both broke out in laughter. Arwen didn't get it. More and more women came in. With them arrived more House Guard. Soon the once vast room seemed to not be big enough. Among other fans of yours truly was Ursula, the woman who sent Leona to kill me with her bow. It didn't take me long to determine there were four distinct groups. The smallest group hated my heart for daring to beat. The largest group seemed uncertain that me having a functioning cerebral cortex was a good thing. The second largest group was worried; about their very existence, but weren't sure I was the answer. The final group, nearly as big as the next largest group, was Hayden's pro-New Directive faction. As a plus, they also weren't afraid to show me some affection personally. When there were only seven chairs left unfilled, Hayden rose for the opening prayer. The 'junior' members started the chorus as the last 'senior' joined the main intonation. When the chanting ended, everyone but Hayden sat back down. ‘A small number of issues necessitate this unheralded meeting,' Hayden began. ‘A male knows our language, our nature and the secret. I seek guidance.' And then the shit-storm began. The only people not involved were Hayden, Saint Marie on Hayden's right, and an unknown older Amazon I didn't know. My life was being debated and I was losing in a bad way. Beyoncé rallied support for me. She was sadly outnumbered but persistent. Among the oldest houses I saw Oneida sitting junior with house Arinniti. Her house was the only one silent, which seemed rather odd. A consensus was reached. I would get to live, but I would be imprisoned for the rest of my existence; not even a breeding male. That was my 'reward' for channeling the ancestors thus saving Oneida's life. Hayden rose once more, took a hand count and raised her hand for quiet. ‘I will consult with the ancestors on this matter,' Hayden announced. ‘Does anyone have other salient points to add?' That was perfunctory. Everyone had already spoken so when the head of House Arinniti stood up, everyone around her whispered in confusion. She lightly slapped her hand on the table for attention. ‘I do, High Priestess,' the woman stated. Even Oneida looked worried and confused. ‘I recognize Shawnee, Head of House Arinniti,' Hayden nodded then resumed seating. ‘My sisters, I seek your agreement that you refrain from comment before I have made my three key statements,' Shawnee requested. She looked around the room, getting nods; some reluctant. (1)'First, I must confess to a crime against the Host and the Council,' Shawnee began. There were hushed murmurs. ‘At the end of the Second Betrayal, my house argued tirelessly for the salvation of the males who remained loyal. The Council voted against us so the head of my house defied the council and spared three of our sons.' Murmurs became shouts of outrage. Hayden used a subtle voice of menace to restore order. (2) ‘Second, Two Ash Men arrived after the rest; a veteran fighter of three and a half decades and a young man of twenty years. Knowing there was no hope for our sons, we took these two aside and instructed them to take our sons south, to a dubious future. That was our crime and it might never have been revealed if it wasn't for the New Directive.' ‘As you now know, Oneida, my granddaughter and heir, gave her Death Pledge. Cáel Nyilas intervened and, acting as a vessel for the Ancestors, he showed Hayden that her pledge had been rejected; for the first time in 3000 years,' Shawnee looked around the table. ‘At first I was simply grateful for my granddaughter's life.' ‘As that euphoria faded, I began to ask why he acted as he had. I began wondering why, while in dire pain, Cáel refused water and comfort, instead asking for songs in our tongue? That made no sense; unless,' Shawnee's face deepened in thought as she let the implications of that thought hang in the air. ‘Thus I had Cáel's genetic identity tested, to see if; ‘ ‘To see if he was one of your bastard male offspring returned after all these centuries,' Ursula stood and seethed. Hayden slapped her palm on the table for order. ‘Oh Ursula,' Shawnee smirked, ‘the ancestors are wiser than you, or me. Had I received my heart-wish and had one of those boys return, they would be condemned by Arinniti's sins and the Council's decision.' ‘But;' Shawnee persisted. Several Amazon's looked my way, clearly bewildered. ‘We had to check the skulls of the ancestors for that,' Shawnee stated. ‘We took a tooth and it confirmed his lineage. He is the descendent of the young man. He never broke faith with the Host. He was unaware when ordered by the Arinniti what the Council had decided, thus he was guiltless.' ‘Who?' Hayden demanded. Shawnee looked down the table, but not far. (3)'Cáel Nyilas is of the blood of Ishara,' Shawnee stated. I waited to see which house leader freaked out. None did. Then I realized they were all staring at an empty chair and it just happened to be one of the chairs closest to Hayden. Not good. The screaming, shouting and yelling began. The house leaders were standing up, shaking fingers and launching threats at one another. Me? I was trying to recall who Ishara was. She eventually became Ishtar, Goddess of War. In the Old Kingdom Hittite she was also the Goddess of Oaths, Love and Medicine. The only three people at the table not going nuts where Saint Marie, Hayden and the woman at her side. That woman was looking at her tablet intently. Once more the group reached consensus and I was still boned. I was still a male, so my lineage meant nothing. I wasn't part of the Host. Hayden took another deep breath, acknowledging this second decision. ‘You are all incorrect,' the unknown tablet-reader spoke. Everyone looked at her and nobody was yelling. ‘Elsa, who is that?' I whispered. ‘Krasimira, Keeper of Records,' Elsa quietly informed me. ‘What; what do you mean?' Messina, Fabiola's Mom stammered. ‘Only nine males went unaccounted for at the end of the Second Betrayal. The rest are recorded meeting their deaths in battle, or death by our hand. Of those nine, only one was of House Ishara and he would have barely been of mating age,' Krasimira related. ‘So?' Ursula remarked. ‘He's still a male.' Krasimira looked at Ursula as if she was talking to a five year old. ‘He was a member of the Host. If Shawnee of Arinniti is to be believed, Vranus, Cáel's ancestor, lived and died in service to the Host. He was never removed from our records, so he died a member of the Host, so his descendants are also members of the Host.' ‘He married without permission of his house, thus he is illegitimate,' an old enemy from Egypt chimed in. ‘Perhaps,' Krasimira nodded. ‘That is a matter he must take up with the Head of House Ishara.' ‘There is no Head of House Ishara!' Ursula stated the obvious and pointed at the empty chair. ‘Again, you are incorrect,' Krasimira shook her head. She half turned in her chair. ‘There is a Head of House Ishara and he's standing right there.' Even Hayden had a problem with that. ‘But he's male,' Hayden declared. ‘That is Irrelevant,' Krasimira said. ‘To be the head of a house, one must either be elected by the peers of your house, succeed in accepted ritual combat, or, in extremis, it shall be the eldest surviving member of the Host of that house. Cáel Nyilas is clearly the oldest member of House Ishara currently in the Host,' she quoted Amazon law, ‘so he is House Ishara's head.' Silence reigned. ‘Gun,' I extended my hand to Elsa. She looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. ‘Don't make me repeat myself.' I growled. Elsa didn't look for guidance. She wasn't that type. She drew her 45 automatic and put in in my hand. ‘The safety is engaged,' she enlightened me. I left my spot and began rounding the table to 'my' seat. ‘One more step and I'll shoot you where you stand,' Ursula threatened. ‘No you won't,' Saint Marie stood. ‘I'll kill you first.' ‘Ursula of Marda, you have no justification to attack House Ishara,' Hayden explained. ‘I don't like this anymore than you do. We do not pick and choose which laws to follow. Accept the will of our ancestors.' There were between fifteen and twenty women close by aching to put bullets in me. I didn't stop because that wouldn't be me. I ended up by the chair and absorbed the essence of this tiny shard of reality. Was I the son of some lost 'First' House? Without a doubt, the placement of this chair was in the top ten on this side. The ones across from me were all clearly 'First' Houses as well. The chair was old; maybe two hundred years. It held a sadness to it; no one had ever sat in it. It had been built knowing no one would ever sit on it. I thought about Pamela. I thought about holding Oneida up and refusing to let her die. That effort was me, physically conditioned over years, but I had never discounted willpower. It was possible that man could indeed be found back somewhere in my ancestry. Few invaders wipe out all the indigenous inhabitants. Usually they intermarry with the invading culture overwhelming the previous one. I couldn't forget my present and future while examining my past. I put the gun down. Hostility washed over me in palatable waves. I pulled back the chair. The room was about to explode. I kept moving it back, farther and farther until it was clear I wouldn't be sitting in it. ‘I will stand for House Ishara,' I announced. ‘I will not vote though I will speak my thoughts on matters. I will hold this spot until I have a daughter of age.' ‘No man of House Ishara has ever voted in the Council of the Host and no man will now,' I kept going. ‘Outside of those concessions to my Mothers, I am House Ishara. I am right here. If you have a problem with me, I will be easy to find. I have never hidden from you bitches and I'm not going to start now.' ‘You insult us,' Messina stood up. Five other women joined her. ‘By all means,' Katrina stood, ‘we eagerly await your challenge.' Eight other women joined her. I hadn't suddenly become more popular. Between my refusal to vote, the bizarre revelation of Shawnee and the gravitas of the 'First' Houses, the more conservative women were retiring to regroup. Messina's backing down lasted only seconds. She immediately proposed that no male be allowed to be a member of the Host; disqualifying me by fiat. Krasimira wasn't going for that. Amazons could not legislate a member of the Host, or a House, out of existence. That's why they had killed the Ash Men in the first place. Technically, they had been Amazons. They couldn't make them 'not-Amazons' and there was no exile in this society. Eminently practical, they made them dead instead. That was coming back to bite them in the ass now, because they killed them; they'd never taken them off the rolls. Poor, young Vranus had loyally led his charges away on orders. Had he fled, they would have put him under a death sentence; which I would have to fulfill. No, my ancestor was unsurprisingly pig-headed. One senior warrior and three children; sure, let's walk off into the wilderness with hostile tribes all around. Why? They told him to and like a loyal little mutton-head he'd obeyed. If I believed in magic, or mysticism, I'd worry about how I ended up in that first board meeting speaking this screwed-up language. I'd re-examine how Leona had missed that crucial first shot because Aya had missed hers. Aya herself and the same spiritual twist that caused Oneida to hurl her life into my unsteady hands. I'd like to put that to accident and genetic abnormalities. Then there was Pamela. I'd like to think she was delusional, suffering from an acid flashback, or whatever. Shawnee slid a wooden box; a meter by 70 cm; to me. Whatever parliamentary etiquette Amazons followed was unknown to me. I opened the box. Inside was what looked like a lamb, or sheep, skin pressed in some kind of glass. The artifact looked horribly old and was faded to the stage where it was barely legible. I let the buzz die down around me as I squinted at the picture. There were five figures; from the left was a tall one with a shield and spear, three small figures, and another tall man; with two axes. That was; no I couldn't accept that, not right now. Along both sides and the top were prayers of some kind, though they were too faded to make out accurately. On the bottom were five names. The right-most was Vranus. Oneida hadn't been trapped by madness and pride. She'd been a slave to destiny. She had seen this skin, I was sure. She'd seen me with my two axes and when it turned out to be more than show, she'd had to save me and she couldn't tell anyone why because of the Arinniti sin. Perhaps she had some delusion we were distantly related. Now wasn't the time to ask. I closed the box and slid it back. In my absence, the verdict for House Arinniti was narrowed down. Some wanted Shawnee's head because she was the inheritor of those lies. Others wanted Oneida's head because it would be a more terrible lesson for her house. I didn't like those ideas. ‘Are you seriously arguing about the paint on the doghouse while your home is burning down?' I mocked them. ‘You don't; ,' a different, yet still hostile, Amazon choked out. ‘They didn't sell your sisters to the Roman coliseum,' I glared. ‘They valued bravery and loyalty over conformity. Did they defy the Council? Yes. I think we all agree with that. Put in context though, the rest of you screwed up.' Tons of 'how dare you' and descriptive insults to my family, gender, species and intelligence. ‘Answer me this; Ursula, can you turn around right now and slit your 'apprentice's' throat?' I posed. I could see the 'no' forming on her lips before the Great Wall of Implications fell on her head. ‘Everyone in this room that voted for the slaughter of the Ash Men broke your own laws,' I explained. ‘You had every right to kill your sons. They were legally and physically helpless. The Ash Men; they were members of the Host; and there is every indication you butchered them without trial, or attempt at redress. Correct me if I'm wrong, but those men did not break the law; you did.' ‘You are correct,' Krasimira said. ‘All members of the Host must be informed of their crimes and seek trial if they disagree. Any sentence of Death can be appealed to the High Priestess, who can commute the sentence, assign an ordeal of some kind, or have it carried out.' What doomed Leona was the obvious nature of her crime in front of the High Priestess. The only person who protested was Ursula, the Mistress of Leona's house. Looking back on things, Ursula had acted insanely sending Leona to kill me. Yes, she would have derailed the New Directive for a few years. She would also have alienated every neutral member of the Council. The vote for the New Directive was distasteful yet deemed necessary by enough houses for it to pass. The vote at the end of the Second Betrayal; that was the issue now. Miss Senior Egypt made one last end-run around the process. ‘What is to stop him from bringing more men into the Host?' she muddied the water. Me? I pulled out my shirt and looked down at my chest. ‘Is someone making fun of my A-cup sized breasts?' I appealed to Hayden. A tiny smile crossed her lips. ‘I am not sure Cáel,' Hayden responded. ‘Fatima, be precise with the nature of your worries.' ‘He should not be allowed to recruit into his house until his status is decided,' Fatima stated. ‘His status is not in question,' Hayden purred. That was the 'I'm about to lose patience with you' purr. ‘I would never recruit anyone into House Ishara who was not qualified. It is insulting to think otherwise. Is there a specific male you are worried about?' I inquired. ‘I don't know you, or your ways,' Fatima spat. ‘You need to think about what you just said, Fatima,' I snorted. ‘So, not knowing anything about me you are making assumptions about what I might do? As you said yourself, you don't know me.' ‘If you did, you would know that while I wish virtually every Amazon alive would drop dead, thus making the world a much better place, I would never embarrass Katrina, or betray her. Now, are you going to keep looking stupid, or are you going to accept that House Arinniti not only acted in accordance to Amazon law 2500 years ago, they continue acting so today,' I stated. ‘After all, they risked everyone's anger for the restoration of one of your eldest houses. When I turned out not to be one of Arinniti's long-lost sons, they could have kept quiet. They did not. Arinniti bravery means one day a daughter of Ishara will bring her voice to this council once more. They certainly didn't do this for themselves. Ask yourself if you would have the courage to bring such possible shame to your family prestige,' I challenged the Host. ‘You trained your monkey well,' Messina mocked Katrina. ‘Ah;' I mused as I picked up my pistol. ‘Safety.' I got a feel for the weapon. ‘Messina, what's the name of your 'apprentice'?' ‘You wouldn't dare,' Messina hissed. ‘You dare to insult me and my House, Whore-Bitch,' I smiled insanely. ‘Why do you think I'll let you get away with that? I'm not going to kill her; just gut-shoot her.' ‘Pull that trigger and you will die,' Messina spat. Her junior looked far less pleased with the turn of events. ‘Not relevant. My House Prestige is too great to suffer such an insult. You did call me, the choice of a hundred generations of House Ishara ancestors, a monkey,' I pointed out. ‘Cáel of Ishara, put the gun down; please,' Saint Marie sort of asked. I clicked the safety and put the gun back down on the table.   Messina was looking terribly pleased with herself, ignoring 'The Golden Mare' coming around her side of the table. The hair-yank Saint Marie inflicted made me recoil in shock and I was some distance away Messina. Slap-backhand-slap-backhand. Saint Marie released Messina's hair. Messina stumbled back, fearful and furious at the same time. ‘Are you going to exert some common courtesy, or shall we continue?' the Marshal of the Amazon Host glared at Messina. ‘I don't like him, or where he stands, but I am far more embarrassed by your behavior. At least the male exerts some restraint. The rest of you are acting like he is a weakling-idiot. He is not. Know your opponent dammit.' ‘Wait! Hayden, now that I'm;' I got all excited. ‘No, Cáel, you still may not refer to the Marshal of the Amazon Host as 'Pony-Lady',' Hayden scolded me. I snapped my finger over the lost opportunity. A pregnant pause was suddenly vacated by a snicker and then several more until half the table had to hold their hands over their mouths. ‘Did you really call (dead word spoken) Saint Marie, 'Pony-Lady'?' this unknown House Leader asked. She wasn't one of my fans. ‘Only after she kicked my ass, totally humiliating me,' I revealed. ‘I got one punch in. Next thing I knew I was wondering how regularly they changed the fluorescent lighting in the Firing Range while I was on my back, soaking up the cold comfort of the concrete floor.' It took them a second to figure out what I meant. Saint Marie was already marching back to her chair. ‘You are very poetic,' another commented. ‘That is how I learned your tongue; I was taught Old Kingdom Hittite erotic and love poetry. I know the same in nine other forgotten languages, as well as four current languages,' I informed them. ‘Hayden, you would not dare chastise any other Head of House the way you treated; him,' Ursula griped. ‘In what possible universe would Cáel Nyilas be considered normal?' Hayden countered. ‘He is not like any other Head of House. He forgoes voting because He values our traditions.' ‘He does not sit in his designated seat at our table because he takes into consideration our sensibilities. This from a man we all decided to imprison forever not five minutes ago. If any of you think he does this out of fear, you are sorely mistaken. He is a person of many failings without question yet he is courageous to a fault,' Hayden lectured the room. ‘Saint Marie, what was the first thing he said to you after you crushed him?' ‘He said 'What. Had enough already?'‘ she snorted. ‘Those were his exact words, lying on his back, looking up at me. I thought I had concussed him.' ‘This is not a humorous matter,' Egypt Senior was still cranky. ‘I don't know about that,' Saint Marie reposed. ‘I found it to be fun actually.' ‘Even the part where he had the gun pointed at me was interesting. I was certain he was about to shoot me,' Saint Marie continued. ‘Pity he missed you,' Messina glared. ‘He didn't miss me, Messina,' Saint Marie sneered. ‘I told him to give me the gun and he gave it to me. He's not disloyal, just pugnacious.' ‘What of Arinniti's crime?' Beyoncé prodded. She wasn't feeling self-righteous. Quite the opposite; the mood had shifted away from bloodlust to uncertainty. Amazons liked decisiveness. They also liked only having to do something once and being done with it. That was the riptide of the New Directive; some houses couldn't let go of the fact they'd lost. That constant pecking away at the plan were the half-measures Katrina was complaining to Hayden about. From my experience, the Ash Men was Katrina's goal all along. Had she been open and honest with this desire, there was no way any aspect of the New Directive would be implemented. If you believed in conspiracy theories, Katrina had groomed me for some time. If you believed in luck, Katrina was cosmically lucky our paths collided. If you believed in mysticism, I was screwed. Let's not forget that there were three millennia of bad ass bitches on the other side of the spiritual divide who thought nothing of guiding me into a life full of fear, heartache and pain. A lengthy debate ended in a classic Amazon compromise; they forgot about it. Literally, they erased the crime against the Ash Men and Arinniti's 'omission' of sparing three of their sons. What had happened to all my 'Ash' brethren? Whoops; they were misplaced. They weren't erased from the rolls; that would make my existence inexplicable, so we remained honorary Amazons. I was sure their angry ghosts were totally mollified. I was sure me and the first female Pope would get it on too. As the meeting was breaking up, one of the 'unfriendly' Amazons shot me a remark. ‘I supposed you are elated,' she grumbled. ‘Really? You think so? Here, let me sell all your underage daughters to Romany gypsies so that you never see them again and you'll have an inkling of how I feel,' I smiled serenely. ‘You should be happy you are allowed to stand in our presence,' she got truly pissy. ‘Lady, I won't be happy until I get to hunt hate-filled monsters like you for sport,' I kept smiling. ‘Until then, I'm afraid we are both going to have to live unsatisfying lives,' I added. ‘Perhaps we should handle this with a blood feud?' she salivated at the prospect. ‘Sure. I'll get the Neutron Bomb we have in the Armory. You chose whatever you like. I'll meet you downtown at noon,' I proposed. It is much better to make a nuclear weapon joke and not have every authority figure in the room glance at you nervously. Did we really have a nuclear warhead in the basement? Fuck if I knew. They'd have never told me if there was. I felt a hand on my shoulder and recalled the touch. "Cáel Nyilas, you are forbidden from engaging in blood feuds - in your case, feuds of any kind until one lunar cycle is completed," Hayden instructed. "Thank you. I appreciate that," my honesty, heartfelt reply slipped forth. "My judgment wasn't for you, Cáel. You've caused catastrophic trauma to our society as an outsider. I tremble to think what you can do now that you are one of us," Hayden gave me a truly serene response. "Give me a little time to prepare." "Oh! Great idea," I exclaimed. "Gotta go!" and I raced for the door, tossing Elsa her gun. "Should I shoot him?" Elsa suggested. "Only to slow him down a bit." I made it to the elevator carrying my jacket and shoes. With me were four sets of Amazons that wanted me dead and one set who were rather ambivalent about the whole matter. I caught one of the 'hater' juniors looking at me. I turned my head enough so we could make prolonged eye contact. I smiled. Reluctantly she smiled back. I leaned in slightly. "Can I borrow your phone? SD beat me up earlier and stole all my stuff," I innocently requested. I was pretty sure she was as surprised as every other man-hater in the box that she handed it over. Like shooting fish in a barrel. I began making a few quick texts to the three crucial people in my scheme. "What did you do that for?" her senior hissed. With my brand new Stinky Pooh-Bah status, she couldn't knock the device out of my hands. "I don't know," she pleaded to her superior. I finished up then handed it back. "Your 'apprentice' has rendered House Ishara an important service that shall be entered into our records of boons and debts," I nodded gravely. "What is your name?" "Gale," she batted her eyelashes. "What did I do?" "What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?" I magically conjured up her hand in mine with my fingertips coursing over her palm and wrist. "I'll explain it then." "You may not spend time with this...person," Senior insisted. "We should not overlook an opportunity to make an alliance with a First House," Gale countered. Bang! Looking like trout for lunch. Gale won, I won and we were meeting at my place so we could figure out where to eat - yummy. Somewhere in the episode, I'd introduce Odette into the mix. It was only fair. I was asking her to hide in Timothy's room until I got Gale warmed up after all. I was the first one of the 'team' to arrive. I was nervously pacing Katrina's office when Desiree and Paula showed up. Desiree took a casual seat on the sofa while Paula hovered around my desk. "Is this going to be really bad, or really good?" Desiree mused. "Why should you have to choose?" I laughed. "Besides, we are aiming for epic status today." "Why are we here?" Paula worried. I stopped. I had a 'Eureka!' moment. There probably was a Bible for what I was planning to do, but they hadn't given it to me. I ran to the bathroom and came back with a glass. "Desiree, I need two things. I need your sharp, pointy thing and for you to slap me until I cry," I looked at her expectantly. "My pleasure," Desiree rocked up from her seat. "Slapping then knife?" I nodded. I was still in the painful smacking process when Buffy and Violet entered. "Can anyone join?" Buffy asked Paula. "I...I don't think so," Paula shook her head. "He's got a plan. I don't know what for." I dodged Desiree's final swing. I had gathered enough tears - I hoped. "That was truly therapeutic, Cáel," Desiree stated. "Let me know if you need a repeat performance." She handed me her small knife. Helena and Daphne finally strolled in. I wove past them, retrieved a piece of paper which I tore in two and two pens. "Helena and Buffy, please write your names down on these pages," I requested. "What the hell?" Buffy growled. "What is this about?" "Trust me," I met her gaze. "Buffy, Cáel is an ass, but he's not crazy. He's up to something," Desiree intervened. Helena stepped up and wrote her name. Buffy followed suit. I took the pages to Katrina's desk. "Come forth and kneel before me," I commanded. This was the point in the ritual when I figured my death was most likely. Buffy shot an evil look at Desiree then very reluctantly complied. Helena followed. Hmmm...Amazons kneel with both knees on the ground. That puts their mouths almost...I had to keep with the program. I burned the two autographs and scattered the ashes. "There is no Buffy DuBois. There is no Helena Shultz," I began. I dipped a finger into the shallow pool of my tears. I ran one down under the left eye of each lady. "With this, I open your eyes to the joys and sorrows of our ancestors." That brought on a hush and the anger in Buffy's eyes evaporated. I cut my left forefinger then motioned them to do the same. First Buffy: I linked our bloody digits. "With this, our blood is mixed. You are Buffy of House Ishara from this moment forth. You are the first of this House. You are our spear and shield," I met her gaze. She started crying. "You are Helena of House Ishara from this moment forth," I continued on. "You are the second of this House. You keep the records of our Host, keep track of our deeds, sins and accounts." Helena began weeping too. Had I said 'just joking', the cleaning team would have been finding torn pieces of me weeks later. "House Ishara is dead," Daphne stated the obvious. "Suffice it to say, long ago, House Ishara brought a male into their ranks as a member of the House," I started. I motioned for my two House-mates...members to rise. "The Second Betrayal," Violet interrupted. "Yes. During the Second Betrayal, some males remained loyal. My descendent was sent on a mission for the Host. The mission took him past his lifespan. His offspring continued on until you end up with me - being here - today. Suffice it to say, he was never removed from the rosters of the Host, thus every offspring was a member too," I recalled recent edited events. "By Amazon law, House Leaders are selected by their peers, victors in a challenge for leadership, or..." I continued. "The eldest of the house," Daphne gasped. "Since Ishara is...since all the female members of the Host are dead, you are the eldest member of the Host." "You don't have to be a female?" Desiree muttered. "That's insane. We are Amazons." "There hasn't been a male in the host for over 2500 years," I explained. "It never came up. Back when they had them, there simply weren't enough men to worry about. Afterwards, there were NO men to worry about. Apparently your ancestors thought writing down 'eldest female' was redundant." "That had to have gone down like a mouse passing an elephant turd," Paula muttered. We all looked at her. "What? Since I met Cáel, I've been writing down little phrases to use in situations like now. This was the first one I could recall." "Actually, they wept tears of joy, lifted me up on their shoulders and sung paeans to my glory," I lied. "So, when do you think the first assassination attempt will be?" Desiree shook her head. This was a lot for her to take in. Not only was my tale fantastic, Buffy was her friend and Desiree knew that Buffy bled for a chance to join the Host and had done so for years. "Why do you think I called Buffy first?" I snickered. "I won't let you down," Buffy declared with grim determination. "Calm down, Buffy," I assured her. "I don't think me being casually snuffed out is on their agenda. They've already gone through a torturous compromise to end up with this screwed up situation." "So why did you pick me...and Helena?" Buffy studied me. "Buffy, you are the most amazon-Amazon I know," I told her. "You like Helena and she said nice stuff about Daphne which showed her character, so I chose her next." "Hey, this means I can finally slap Fabiola around," Buffy's eyes grew bright. "Which reminds me - can I get any volunteers for Old Kingdom Hittite lessons for these two," I begged my 'new hire' companions. "I'll take two nights a week," Daphne offered. "I'll take one night," Paula added. "I'll take a fourth," Violet completed the set. "Damn it," Desiree cursed. "This means Buffy must be taught the Prayer of the Ancestors." "You are right," Buffy gasped. "I accompany Cáel to Council meetings now." "One note - I don't vote," I informed them. "I made that decision. House Ishara has never had a male vote for it and I'm keeping that tradition. I can speak, but not vote. When my daughter comes of age, she will have full rights." Desiree, Buffy and Helena were confused. Daphne, Violet and Paula, on the other hand, were enraptured. This was the only life - only traditions - they had ever known and I had sacrificed something of importance to them out of respect to their sensibilities. "Cáel's decision makes it easier for you, Buffy and Helena," Daphne explained. "This allows the other Heads of House to get used to him being there - less of a culture shock," she continued. "In a few years he may end up getting a vote anyway as they learn to respect him and House Ishara. You are one of the First Houses - reborn, I imagine." Buffy's eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped open. "Yeah Buff," Desiree shook her head. "One of the first twenty war leaders of the Host. You have the blood of Mycenaean warriors on your hands." "Cáel, I..." Buffy began. "I gave you nothing, Buffy. If you think there is someone more deserving than you, please point them out," I touched her tear-drenched cheek. "I do want something from you," I said compassionately. Buffy was attentive. "I want you to undergo a sex change operation and become a real woman." Ow! Buffy punched me. "Buffy, you might not want to damage your House Head in public. It is bad for his prestige," Paula pointed out. "Good point," Buffy frowned. "Cáel - bathroom - now." "Uh-oh, no way, no how," I back-pedaled. "Today has been painful enough. I had a run in with some Security Detail and House Guard on the way to the podium." "What did they do to you?" Helena inquired. "For starters, they haven't given me back my valise," I complained. "Also, who do I report these additions to House Ishara to? Finally, Buffy promised me she'd wear a thong and those little, circular Band-Aids if I got her into the Full-blooded gym again." "Decorum, Buffy," Desiree stopped Buffy from punishing me. "Decorum." "Why don't you have to behave?" Buffy glared at me. "I'm the ghost of a man dead for over 2500 years," I winked. "I'm allowed to be eccentric." "I'll start calling around to find out who gets told what and where your stuff is Cáel," Helena grinned. She was full-blooded now; the goal of every Runner who joined. "What is next for you now?" Daphne questioned. "I imagine I have a job to do," I replied. "I mean, Katrina works and she's head of House Epona. I'm an intern, just like I was yesterday. That hasn't changed." "Oh goodie," Buffy smacked her hands together, "you can still work for me." "Oh - yay," I groaned sarcastically. "What's wrong now?" Katrina said as she waltzed into the room. I caught sight of a few SD chicks hanging around outside. "There are for your protection if you feel you need it." "Nah," I shook my head. "I have that taken care of. I brought Buffy and Helena into House Ishara." Katrina stopped and looked at me. There was definitely some tension between us. "You might want to consult with - others before you do something like that again," Katrina cautioned me. "I'll definitely consider your offer. For now, I chose the best for the future of Ishara," I said, "as is my duty and responsibility." We locked gazes once more. Things had changed between us. They had to have. "I seem to have missed my Firing Range practice today as well as the morning meeting," I reminded Katrina. She'd known what fate awaited me when I walked in the door and not warned me. I didn't blame her. That was what she was looking for - the anger. Before, I couldn't have acted on it. "Cáel, get dressed. I saw Helena running off on some sort of errand which I imagine is your fault, so you are working with Daphne for the rest of the day," Katrina resumed her pace to her desk. She examined the nearly empty glass. "My tears," I answered. "It is part of my ritual for induction into House Ishara." In case you missed it, I never said 'my house'. This was on purpose. As long as I made no open claim to such a lofty spot, they could ignore me hanging around a bit better. "You may want to talk with House Arinniti, or Šauška about such rites," Katrina advised. "He burned their old names to ash, scored their left cheeks with his tears to remind them of his ancestors and mixed his blood with theirs so they would be known to all as members of House Ishara from this day forth," Daphne related. "It was very touching - simple and to the point." "That's Cáel for you, simple and straight to the cultural jugular," Katrina shook her head. "He did nothing wrong," Buffy protested. I was getting dressed. "Buffy, I have wanted to initiate you into House Epona for years. Family politics have prevented that. Sixty years after the First Initiative, fewer than a fifty 'Runners' have been brought into the Host. Mutual condemnation has kept each house in check - restrained from recruiting new blood into the Host." "And now we have Cáel," Desiree groaned. "Who does care not one bit about social ramifications of bringing a hundred runners into one of the oldest houses of the Host," Daphne sighed. "But, we deserve this," Buffy proclaimed. "That, Buffy, is the point and the problem - you and others like you do deserve it," Katrina fondly regarded her 'now-Full-blooded' friend. "Most of the other houses would disagree though, but they won't be able to convince Cáel of this - thus begins the next quagmire of Cáel's creation." It was the prejudice laid bare. The 'Runners' knew they had very little chance of being accepted into a House. They had a long history of neglect to look back on. The few who had graduated had been virtually superhuman to be accepted. Then I came along. Suddenly, for some of the best and brightest of the 'Runners' there was a serious likelihood they could be brought into a highly prestigious House, because its leader was a nutjob. This morning, when the meeting adjourned, House Ishara had been a tiny blip on the Council's radars. Those women so disregarded the 'Runners' they hadn't even thought about my reaction to the dilemma of the miniscule size of my house, despite the answer being all around them (though safely contained upstairs in their minds). House Ishara with a lone member, a male at that, wasn't a threat - not really. The specter that Katrina foresaw was something different. She saw a House Ishara with a thousand members, and all hardened, dedicated and trained Amazons - formerly 'Runners'. Loyal to me?

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“Living Dummy.” “The Haunted Mask.” “Welcome to Dead House.” For '90s kids, R.L. Stine, author of the “Goosebumps” series, is synonymous with spooky. The series has sold over 400 million copies globally in 35 languages, making it the second-best-selling book series in history (after a decidedly less scary boy wizard). And after being adapted for TV, film and a new Disney+ series, “Goosebumps” has found its audience among generations of kids looking for frights. We'll talk about how to tell scary — but not too scary — stories for kids, and why we love horror at any age. Guests: R.L. Stine, author, wrote more than 350 books including the series “Goosebumps” and “Fear Street,” and of the nonfiction works “There's Something Strange About My Brain: Writing Horror For Kids” and “It Came From Ohio!: My Life As a Writer” Caroline Smith, producer, KQED Mark Nieto, producer, KQED Blanca Torres, producer and reporter, KQED

For a variety of reasons, Ben has decided to give Goosebumps one more try. We're going back to where it all began: Welcome to Deadhouse. Will RL Stine be redeemed, or was Goosebumps truly just a fad? Find out on this exciting episode of Words About Books.Support the showDiscord - https://discord.gg/6BaNRtcP8CThreads - https://www.threads.net/@wordsaboutbookspodcastInstagram - https://www.instagram.com/wordsaboutbookspodcastBlog - https://blog.wordsaboutbooks.ninja/Buy the Books - https://bookshop.org/shop/wabpod

The deadest of dead houses greets us In Goosebumps 1, Welcome to the Dead House! It’s dead!

On episode 16, Ryan breaks down the latest UFO and space news, including:- A YouTuber in Vietnam builds a water-gliding UFO.- Royal Canadian Mint releases a new coin based on UFO event.- The UAP Disclosure Act has been almost completely gutted.- House Rep. Nancy Mace comments on chairing 2nd public UAP hearing.- Scathing op-ed in LA Times featuring Dr. Sean Kirkpatrick.- Has James Webb made a discovery that has prompted classified briefings to Congress?- Does Earth have a new (temporary) moon?Please help my sister: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-kristi-and-maddie-medical-fundCome see Ryan at Shag Harbour UFO Xpo: http://www.shagharbourufoexpo.comPatreon: www.patreon.com/somewhereskiesByMeACoffee: buymeacoffee.com/UFxzyzHOaQPayPal: Sprague51@hotmail.comWebsite: www.somewhereintheskies.comStore: http://tee.pub/lic/ULZAy7IY12UYouTube Channel: CLICK HERETwitch: https://www.twitch.tv/somewhereskies/videosOrder Ryan's new book: https://a.co/d/4KNQnM4Order Ryan's older book: https://amzn.to/3PmydYCTwitter: @SomewhereSkiesRead Ryan's Articles by CLICKING HEREOpening Theme Song, "Ephemeral Reign" by Per KiilstofteProduced by LIONSGATECopyright © 2024. Ryan Sprague. All rights reserved.Support this show http://supporter.acast.com/somewhere-in-the-skies. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sam is the host of Dice Exploder, an ENnie-nominated podcast where game designers break down the specific mechanics of their favorite TTRPGs (as well as an incredible game designer in his own right). We sat down to play Desperation (Dead House), a historical horror RPG, based on real history, about a small community in Kansas facing an oppressive, deadly winter. Who will survive being pushed to their limits?SAM DUNNEWOLD: https://samdunnewold.com/DICE EXPLODER: https://www.diceexploder.com/DESPERATION: https://bullypulpitgames.com/products/desperationSAM DUNNEWOLD ON ITCH: https://sdunnewold.itch.io/BLACK LIVES MATTER: https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#ALL MY FANTASY CHILDREN: http://www.allmyfantasychildren.com/YAZEBA'S BED & BREAKFAST: https://redcircle.com/shows/yazebas-bed-and-breakfastPARTY OF ONE DISCORD: https://discordapp.com/invite/SxpQKmKSUPPORT JEFF ON PATREON: www.patreon.com/jeffstormerTHEME SONG: Mega Ran feat. D&D Sluggers, “Infinite Lives,” RandomBeats LLC, www.megaran.comSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/party-of-one-podcast/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands

Holy hells, Goosebuddies. This episode marks our 10th Anniversary of the podcast. We started in 2014 with a mission to cover the works of R. L. Stine and we still have mountains of pulp to go through. But in honor of the celebration we take a look back at the story that started it all: Welcome to Dead House! Your hosts Chad Quandt, Paul Ritchey, and Kevin Cole re-review this 1992 book about a sort of terrifying time share. Then we hop around the timeline and inspect 2014 and the modern year to see how this franchise has changed with the world and us. And we celebrate Kevin getting to read this book for the first time! We also talk booby traps and the laws concerning them. Thank you all for an incredible decade of this show. Your continued love and support keeps us going and it's meant a lot to have this audio cabin void to sneak away to and talk about 90s kids horror. Enjoy the episode! Book Discussion starts at 26:45 Off-Topics Include: 2014 Paul, Our Ideal Ghost House Features, 1992, Goosebuds: Origins You can support Goosebuds, get access to bonus episodes, join our secret Discord, and more at patreon.com/goosebuds   Dress your skeleton with Goosebuds apparel at goosebuds.store   Email: goosebuds@gmail.com   Twitter: @GoosebudsPod   Edited by Kevin Cole (@RealKevinCole)   Music by Seth Earnest (sethearnest.net)

This week, the Crew ranks all 16 2-Parter episodes of the original '90s Goosebumps TV Series! From Fever Swamp to HorrorLand, Terror Tower to Dead House, "Attack of the Mutant" to "Perfect School", the crew ranks these episodes from Least Favorites to Favorites! PRE-ORDER YOUR HORRORLAND TICKETS HERE: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/horrorland/one-weekend-at-horror-land/description Follow The Goosebumps Crew! Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/the_gb_channel Twitter: https://twitter.com/thegbchannel TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@GoosebumpsCrewPodcast Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2BEsXZcWxttIEAz25uLRld?si=4f9d71a051ec44f6 Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-goosebumps-crew/id1726330730 Amazon Music: https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/096971fe-1466-4b9f-aedb-b5077a7daa23/the-goosebumps-crew IHeartRadio: https://www.iheart.com/podcast/269-the-goosebumps-crew-173411145/ Arete Media: https://aretemedia.org/podcast/the-goosebumps-crew Discord: https://discord.gg/WuJgfspyx9 Featuring: Isaiah Vargas - The Goosebumps Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@TheGoosebumpsChannel Bjorn Palinich - GoosebumpsAussieFan: https://www.youtube.com/@goosebumpsaussiefan650 Nick Shaw - Shawhain: https://www.youtube.com/@shawhain Opening Theme by VALAINA VALAINA YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@VALAINA_band

Join us as we continue our analysis of our eighth Sarah J. Maas book, and the third book of the Crescent City series… House of Flame and Shadow!  If you like this episode, please rate, review, subscribe, and share with your friends! Find us on Instagram at @faeriesandfangirls and on Patreon at patreon.com/faeriesandfangirls. Books discussed:  Empire of the Vampire by Jay Kristoff

In this episode we discuss:NY State to pay college tuition for new healthcare workersHouse Passes "anti-Semitism Law"2nd Beoing Whustleblower deadGary D Barnett's "Natural Law"Website: thefacthunter.com Email: thefacthunter@mail.com Snail Mail: George Hobbs PO Box 109 Goldsboro, MD  21636Show NotesNY to pay college tuition for new healthcare workers https://www.governor.ny.gov/healthcare-workers-our-future-scholarship/official-program-rules Congress passes “anti-Semitism law https://www.nbcnews.com/news/amp/rcna150170 Hannity/Trump “Antisemitism” https://x.com/LangmanVince/status/1785498875337363807 BREAKING - Yet another whistleblower dies — Boeing whistleblower Joshua Dean dies suddenly after accusing supplier of ignoring safety flaws in 737 Max production https://x.com/theinsiderpaper/status/1786001082172276807?s=46&t=ytitK_qmWZMvJd0lLKbt-g Gary D Barnett All Rule and All Government Are Evil to the Core, and the Abandonment of Natural Law https://www.lewrockwell.com/2024/05/gary-d-barnett/all-rule-and-all-government-are-evil-to-the-core-and-the-abandonment-of-natural-law/ IHRA “Working definition of antisemitism” https://holocaustremembrance.com/resources/working-definition-antisemitism

In this episode, we discuss the episode "Welcome to Dead House" with Ian D. Clark, who played Mr. Dawes in the episode! Visit Trophy Smack to get yourself your own Custom Trophies, Belts, Rings, and other awards to feel like a champ for any occasion! Link Here: https://www.trophysmack.com/?sca_ref=5431526.DV84IqEWvZ&sca_source=GoosebumpsCrew Featuring: @TheGoosebumpsChannel @goosebumpsaussiefan650 @shawhain @theultimategoosebumpsman7220 Follow "The Goosebumps Crew" on YouTube, Spotify, and Apple Podcasts!

In this episode, we talk with Scott Wickware, the incredible actor who brought life to The Masked Mutant, The Haunted Mask, and one of the many Dark Falls residents, and talk a little bit about the episodes he starred in! Also featuring a special appearance from his wife, Mairlyn Smith, who played Mrs. Thurston in Welcome to Dead House! Go to www.steviewix.com to get yourself some quality-made candles! Use our promo codes at checkout! "ListenerBeware" - 10% off first-month subscription box + all Halloween candles "Haunted20" - 20% off first-month subscription box "Slappy10" - 10% off any order Featuring: @TheGoosebumpsChannel @goosebumpsaussiefan650 @shawhain @theultimategoosebumpsman7220

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! From a very young age, Andy Hopkins learned that he was a beacon to spirits, not all of which were kind. Some were intent on frightening them and forcing us out. In this house, he spent nights cowering from the shadows that stalked the hallways. Nights were spent wondering whether the unseen footsteps were coming my way to scare him or worse. Today, we will discuss the true story of what it was like to grow up with the gift of seeing spirits and see why this “gift” was also a curse, as the harrowing ghosts twisted and infused their way into his life, changing it forever. This is Part Two of our conversation. Become a Premium Supporter of The Grave Talks Through Apple Podcasts or Patreon (http://www.patreon.com/thegravetalks) There, you will get: Access to every episode of our show, AD-FREE! Access to every episode of our show before everyone else! Other EXCLUSIVE supporter perks and more!

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! From a very young age, Andy Hopkins learned that he was a beacon to spirits, not all of which were kind. Some were intent on frightening them and forcing us out. In this house, he spent nights cowering from the shadows that stalked the hallways. Nights were spent wondering whether the unseen footsteps were coming my way to scare him or worse. Today, we will discuss the true story of what it was like to grow up with the gift of seeing spirits and see why this “gift” was also a curse, as the harrowing ghosts twisted and infused their way into his life, changing it forever. Become a Premium Supporter of The Grave Talks Through Apple Podcasts or Patreon (http://www.patreon.com/thegravetalks) There, you will get: Access to every episode of our show, AD-FREE! Access to every episode of our show before everyone else! Other EXCLUSIVE supporter perks and more!

KENTARO MIURA! In my excitement to talk about Berserk, I forgot to mention the name of its creator, Kentaro Miura! My apologies! In this episode, we talked about: Earthdivers by Stephen Graham Jones https://bit.ly/3TH6rus Berserk by Kentaro Miura https://bit.ly/41HJHMO Never Met a Duke Like You Amalie Howard https://bit.ly/3vjooVK Strange Matter: Bad Circuits And we mentioned, without getting too in-depth: The Lord of the Rings by JR.R. Tolkein (as read by Andy Serkis) The Duke of the Abruzzi by Mirella Tenderini, Michael Shandrick Goosebumps: Welcome to the Dead House by R.L. Stine https://bit.ly/3GZ1zcs Soichi by Junji Ito Just One Damned Thing After Another by Jodi Taylor https://bit.ly/3NKirr1

The Gang is back and just living in this dead house. Highlights include accent waltz, protection, vambies and zompires.

The Gang is back and they are being welcomed at this very dead house. Highlights include Ruuuuural, bullying ghouls, and special guest Chris Hansen.

What better way to celebrate Friday the 13th than with a Goosebumps special? This week, Leigh and Lori take on two audience-requested tales by children's horror master R.L. Stine! PRE-ORDER IN SEARCH OF DARKNESS: 1990-1994 LEARN MORE THE LOST ROMERO X GOOSEBUMPS PROJECT HERE, HERE, AND HERE!

*Insert train whistle here* It's Spooktacular Express time y'all! Gear up for our month-long, Halloween-themed content adventure as we bored the train for a Goosebumps land! That's right listener, we're reaching deeper into the Scholastic Book Fair well to create semi-spooky horror games. The goal this week is to create the best possible video game adaptation of a classic Goosebumps tale. Nobody tell R.L. Stine, but these games have just as much to do with the source material as their covers used to. The Spooktacular Express makes a few stops in spooky locations this week. Matt requested the conductor to drop him off at a spooky, secret amusement park deep in the forest. Todd's doing a time travel thing in a big spooky tower. Meanwhile, Kyle reboots the very first Goosebumps book, or is it the first season of American Horror Story? Spooktacular Review-a-thon: -Step 1: Review the podcast on Apple Podcasts, Podchaser, Goodpods, or anywhere else you can write reviews! -Step 2: Take a screenshot of your review, post it to social media, and tag us @debatethiscast -Step 3: We'll read your review in a spooky voice during the October ad breaks! -If we get 20 new reviews this month, we'll make Todd play another spooky game live on Twitch! -You can watch last years stream at https://www.youtube.com/@debatethiscast The title of this week's episode was NOT selected by our Patrons in our Discord Community because we didn't want to spoil the bit! That said, if you want to help us choose the next one, join our discord, and/or get some bonus content, become part of #ButtThwompNation at patreon.com/debatethiscast Have you seen our Twitter? twitter.com/debatethiscast Have you seen our Instagram? instagram.com/debatethiscast Want to send us an email? debatethiscast@gmail. MERCH! We have that! Right now you can go on the internet and order things that say Debate This! On them! All you need to do is head to our Redbubble page and give us your money! You can find that Redbubble page with relative ease by going to www.debatethiscast.com and visiting the “Support the Show” page. Properties we talked about this week: Lies of P, Midnight Sons, Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey, Goosebumps, Goosebumps the Musical, One Day at HorrorLand, A Night in Terror Tower, Welcome to Dead House, RollerCoaster Tycoon, Animal Crossing Music for Debate This! is provided by composer Ozzed under a Creative Commons license. Check out more of their 8-bit bops at www.ozzed.net!

When a man and a woman are found dead in their bed by an estate agent and the couple looking to buy the house, Charlotte and Ayesha's investigation leads to a secret hidden within the very grounds of the house. Could buying a house come with unexpected and deadly consequences? Listen to the first audiobook in The Walker Mysteries series - ⁠"A New World' on Audible⁠. Starring Sally Swift as DCI Charlotte Walker Written and Created by Andrew White Sound Design by Robert Black Produced and Directed by Andrew White --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/walkermysteries/message

Journalist and stand-up comedian Martin Beanz Warde joins Brendan to talk about branching out into theatre with his debut play The Dead House.

Nolan is joined by Paul Farrell and Ben McBride to discuss Wes Craven's SCREAM 2 (1997) and Joe Dante's MATINEE (1993). The crew dig into new discoveries, rewatches, and recent releases before heading to their local single-screen theater to see the newest schlock film inspired by the anxieties and horrors of the real world. Other movies/books discussed on this episode: M3GAN (2023), SORRY ABOUT THE DEMON (2023), VOYAGE OF THE ROCK ALIENS (1984), RIKI-OH: THE STORY OF RICKY (1991), THE ICEMAN COMETH (1989), WE HAVE A GHOST (2023), BLADES (1989), EVIL LAUGH (1986), THE CABIN AT THE END OF THE WORLD (2018). Links of interest and/or sources cited for research on this episode: Catastrophic Plans: The Enduring Importance of “Red Right Hand” in the ‘Scream' Franchise by Paul Farrell (Bloody Disgusting) ‘Welcome to Dead House' – Revisiting the Very First ‘Goosebumps' Book and Its TV Adaptation by Paul Farrell (Bloody Disgusting) ‘The Ghost Next Door' – Revisiting the 10th ‘Goosebumps' Book and Its TV Adaptation by Paul Farrell (Bloody Disgusting) SCREAM 4 + TRAGEDY GIRLS (Dead Ringers) (podcast) The 1990s Teen Horror Cycle: Final Girls and a New Hollywood Formula by Alexandra West Episode 102. Rule Breaker: Scream (1996) (Faculty Of Horror) (podcast) Scream (1996) (Horror Queers) (podcast) Scream 2 (1997) (Horror Queers) (podcast) Scream 3 (2000) (Horror Queers) (podcast) Scream 4 (2011) Part 1 (Horror Queers) (podcast) Scream 4 (2011) Part 2 (Horror Queers) (podcast) Scream (2022) (Horror Queers) (podcast)

If you're enjoying our interviews and conversations about "The Dead", why not listen ad-free? Become a Premium Supporter of The Grave Talks Through Apple Podcasts or Patreon (http://www.patreon.com/thegravetalks) There, you will get: Access to every episode of our show, AD-FREE! Access to every episode of our show before every one else!  Other EXCLUSIVE supporter perks and more!

If you're enjoying our interviews and conversations about "The Dead", why not listen ad-free? Become a Premium Supporter of The Grave Talks Through Apple Podcasts or Patreon (http://www.patreon.com/thegravetalks) There, you will get: Access to every episode of our show, AD-FREE! Access to every episode of our show before every one else!  Other EXCLUSIVE supporter perks and more!

Kirby's Return To Dream Land Deluxe, Minit, Hogwarts Legacy, State of Play, Nintendo quarterly sales figures, a game of Pokemon: Real or Fake?, what we want to see in a Switch successor and more are all in this new episode! Here's the rundown: [00:00] Intro [04:45] Andre played Kirby's Return to Dream Land Deluxe [13:41] Steve and Andre played Minit [20:34] Kevin finishes Hogwarts Legacy [27:06] Break #1 [29:20] Nintendo is skipping E3 2023. Should Microsoft take advantage? [36:35] Latest Nintendo software sales figures [44:20] State of Play Recap (PSVR 2, Tchia, Humanity, Baldur's Gate 3, Viewfinder, Street Fighter 6, Resident Evil 4 Remake, Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League) [58:24] Pokemon Presents Recap (Pokemon Sleep is real!!) [01:01:21] Break #2 [01:02:24] Pokemon: Real or Fake? (Bear Edition) [01:11:48] What do you want to see or not see in a successor to Switch? (Twitter Mailbag) [01:35:55] Outro Follow us on Twitter at @FineTimePodcast Andre: @pizzadinosaur Steve: @monotonegent Kevin: @KevinFlevin89

On this very special Off-Topic episode, Nolan is joined by nearly the entire Dead Ringers crew — Emily von Seele, Ben McBride, Paul Farrell, Thomas Foster, and Philip Yount — to discuss their favorite horror movies of 2022. Links of interest and/or sources cited for research for this episode: ‘Welcome to Dead House' – Revisiting the Very First ‘Goosebumps' Book and Its TV Adaptation by Paul Farrell (Bloody Disgusting) Let's Scare Bryan to Death: Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead's RESOLUTION with Philip Yount by Bryan Christopher (Daily Dead) Let's Scare Bryan to Death: Ti West's THE INNKEEPERS with Emily von Seele by Bryan Christopher (Daily Dead) Emily's Favorites of 2022 by Emily von Seele (Daily Dead) Interview: THE LONG WALK Director Mattie Do by Emily von Seele (Daily Dead) Review: THE HARBINGER is a Nightmare You Shouldn't Miss by Emily von Seele (Daily Dead) Fantastic Fest 2022 Review: David Bruckner's HELLRAISER Builds Upon Clive Barker's World in Horrifyingly Beautiful Ways by Emily von Seele (Daily Dead)

Prophecy Radio episode #60 talks about all things fan art, and even has a special guest! Please welcome Sarah Barra (aka @Hellredsky), who graciously joined us for another fun discussion. We also talk about all the latest news in the Riordanverse, including the new Rick Riordan Presents author who recently joined the roster, as well as reread and discuss Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian chapter 14. New episodes of Prophecy Radio air weekly, and all ages are welcome to tune in. News and Updates (00:02:28) The start of this episode is chaotic, but what else is new? We recorded a little early this week, so news is light. Read Riordan lets us know some great gifts you can receive as a demigod. They definitely stole our idea for next week! Except no they didn't, our idea is pretty different. Rebecca Kuss at Rick Riordan Presents/Disney-Hyperion announced a new book coming to the RRP imprint! Judy I. Lin has joined Rick Riordan Presents! We've definitely heard of A Magic Steeped in Poison. It'll be so fun and interesting to read about Taiwanese folklore! Karen is super excited about a horror novel joining the lineup! Kristen is…not. (The book she references is The Dead House by Dawn Kurtagich.) This book takes place in Vancouver, so we can live vicariously through the characters to explore the city where Percy Jackson and the Olympians is filming! Kristen rebukes Karen's idea of exposure therapy for horror novels. Percy Jackson fanart (feat. Sarah Barra aka @Hellredsky) (00:09:31) Welcome, Sarah! It's so great to finally talk in person because we've been mutually supporting each other for a while now! Sarah tells us about how she's been drawing fanart since she was little! They also give us some good advice on how to keep the enjoyment of your craft alive when it's become your fulltime job. And if you're looking for some good tools, Sarah has some great advice for that, too! Remember: Digital art is just as valid and beautiful as traditional art mediums. Does anyone else struggle to color in their creations? You can't please everyone! Even ugly or bad art invokes an emotion, and that's important, too. Create something YOU enjoy, first and foremost. It's so interesting how a fandom can grow into something new thanks to fanart and fandom. In particular, we're thinking of Velinxi, whose art is monumentally influential in the Percy Jackson fandom. It's fun to put your own spin on a character like Percy Jackson, and it's interesting to hear how Sarah does that in their artwork. All three of us talk about how old we are and how long we've been around the internet and fandom culture. Social media might be a dumpster fire on any given day, but it also brings us a lot of opportunities to meet new people and see different kinds of artwork. What are some of our biggest fandoms? Shout-out to Teen Wolf!! Kristen and Karen are huge fans of Karen Hallion and Lord Mesa. Sarah tells us how she first got into Percy Jackson. Some of Sarah's favorite PJO artists include: Viria, Velinxi, Sarah Moustafa (@smoustart), Arisha (@arishatistic) Drazen (@spiderdeli), and Marik (@marik_draw). What kind of influences, good or bad, will the show have on the fandom once it comes out? We love the Percy Jackson multiverse! Sarah makes a good point about how Clarisse's portrayal in the fandom could change a lot because of Dior Goodjohn's casting in the show. Karen wants to see more demigods wearing glasses! All of us also want to see more diversity in the fandom! We're giving away one of Sarah's $40 chibi commissions! The rules are simple: 1. Make sure you're following @prophecypodcast and @Hellredsky on Twitter, and 2. Tell us who your favorite Percy Jackson character is using the hashtag #ProphecyRadioGiveaway. You'll have until December 19 to enter, and then we'll pick one random winner to receive the prize! Make sure you follow Sarah @Hellredsky on Twitter/Instagram/Tumblr/Hive/Mastodon, as well as check out their ko.fi as well as their podcast Herosgrafia. “Bye bye!” “(I waved.)” We had a BLAST. Thanks again to Sarah, and we can't wait to have her on again! Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian (01:08:50) It's time to talk about The Last Olympian chapter 14. Why was this chapter SO. LONG. Kristen's recap this week is poetry to the ears. We loved hearing Thalia's perspective on the whole LuKronos situation. It'll be so interesting to see how the Hunters are portrayed in the show. Why is Thalia defending Hermes in this situation? Percy doesn't want anymore nightmares, but you can't always get what you want. We're up to Prophecy Count #29! Prophetic dreams are a demigod thing, and it's simply not mentioned enough. What does Clarisse dream about?? We loved the callback to Auntie Em's Garden Gnome Emporium. Why do certain monsters take longer to reform? What's the correlation between intelligence and the length of time it takes for them to return from Tartarus? Are we meant to empathize with Ethan Nakamura at all? When did Luke start regretting his decision to join with Kronos? Oh, to be a fly on the wall inside Kronos' mind. Has the Big House always been blue!? Why does the Oracle choose young girls as its vessel? (Is this an Apollo thing…?) Was May Castellan unstable even before she was hit with Hades' curse? We kind of spoiled ourselves last week. Oops. Have we seen Thalia use lightning before!? Okay, how did Percy create that hurricane? And on ACCIDENT? Can we assume Percy can control hurricanes, too? And if so…what the heck, man!? You're falling down on the job. We once again discuss whether Percy Jackson is overpowered. We try to figure out where the Clazmonian Sow is from. How do the lion statues come to life? That visual of Percy lassoing the flying pig is hilarious. Feedback (02:02:01) Jessica chimes in with some comments on the gods and the Fates. Espeon is excited about the new Rick Riordan Presents book, not least because it's a young adult book! Thanks for listening, and tune in next time for episode 61, where we'll try to come up with a few gifts good enough for the gods! This episode's hosts are: Karen Rought and Kristen Kranz. Each episode, our Prophecy Radio hosts and their guests will keep you up to date on the latest information coming out of Camp Half-Blood, including upcoming books and adaptation news, discuss a topic of choice, and do a chapter by chapter reread of the Percy Jackson series. Follow Us: Twitter // Instagram // Facebook // Tumblr Listen and Subscribe: Audioboom // Apple // Spotify Feel free to leave us your questions or comments through any of these mediums! You can also email us at prophecyradiopodcast@gmail.com or visit our homepage for archives and more information about our show. Prophecy Radio is a Subjectify Media podcast production. Visit Subjectify Media for more shows, including Not Another Teen Wolf Podcast, ReWatchable, and Not About The Weather, and for all our latest articles about the stories we're passionate about.

Ash Men, Sins and the Will of the Ancestors.By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.Do you think you know who you are? Step outside your comfort zone. (11:00 p.m. Thursday Night)Rhada stood by the Lily Pond. She’d looked at her phone once. A couple had walked past, causing me to delay my approach and heightened Rhada’s unease; an unexpected bonus. It wasn’t too difficult of a shot with my air pistol. The only light functioning in the area went out in a crash of light.She jumped slightly then crouched and scanned the surrounding overgrowth. The light had robbed her of her night vision which allowed me to get close. I snapped the air pistol off into its three parts. Running around with any kind of gun in NYC wasn’t wise. In the same vein, the ‘stun gun’ I now brandished was all light and no shock. It was all theater for Rhada’s imagination.With the flash of my weapon, Rhada’s eyes bore in on my location. Her small knife was now over-matched, so her only option was flight. A smart 'victim’ would race for the well illuminated road close by. Hunters who hunted hunters did what Rhada did; she raced into a geographic feature in Central Park called the Ravine.It was tough, uneven terrain off the beaten path. I had walked it once before, in dim light. This night I was aided by a half-Moon and the faintest clue of where the chase was leading while Rhada was having to figure things out as she ran. At the last second, she sensed she had lost the race. She spun around to slash at me; she was playing for keeps.I swung down, losing my false stun device while I knocked her knife free. I had lashed downward so that I could find her knife later; it was important to her. My tool cost $3.00 and I could live without it. We struggled. Rhada tried to scream so I covered her mouth with my sweater-covered forearm.Dutifully, she bit down. More close body wrestling ensued and I could tell Rhada was truly famished for the attention. I cuffed her hands behind her back, slapped some Christmas tape over her lips; I swear that stuff has no adhesive; and retrieved her knife.“What is it going to be, little Sweet-meat?” I taunted her softly as I caught my breath.I had Rhada pressed face-first in the loam. Despite her strenuous efforts to keep her legs together, I rubbed my hand between her legs and over her cunt.“Fuck it,” I mused. “You are a real whore. You are soaking wet over some guy running you down and making you a fuck-hole.” I wasn’t sure she was wet and being called 'fuck-hole’ really excited her.“You are probably so loose I couldn’t feel a thing if I did fuck you,” I kept up the pressure. “Maybe I’ll strip you down and leave you tied to a lamp post; write 'Free Slut’ and see who is desperate enough to screw you. If I said ’$5 per hole’, do you think anyone would leave some sort of payment?” She whimpered.Soon enough, I located her knife. Without warning, I slipped it past her waistband and began sawing/cutting her pants down past the crotch. She was wet alright. I loudly unzipped my pants and readied my rod. After slapping my cockhead against her molten labia a few times,“What? You don’t want to be used by every diseased homeless deviant and drunk rapist roaming the park?”Rhada shook her head rapidly in the negative.“Do you really think you can do a damn thing to make me want to keep you?” I egged her on. Rhada thrust her ass back. My cock rose up, Rhada whined, repositioned and managed to capture my penis on her second attempt. She wept with rapture as I began pushing in.All I had to do was lean forward slightly and let Rhada do all the work. She hammered her pussy into my pelvis with a voracious yearning. I was rather concerned what she would have been like if it had been a whole month. Rhada was sobbing and shuddering as pleasure wracked her body. I almost missed the soft crunch of leaves right behind me.I snatched up Rhada’s knife and rolled halfway over. Oneida, tears in her eyes and her face etched in horror, was poised to strike me.“No,” Oneida groaned in a small, devastated voice. Yeah, this was going to be hard to explain. Rhada, on hearing the noise, rolled on her side so that she was mostly shielded by me.Do not scream 'this is not what it looks like’, or 'let me explain’ to a traumatized girlfriend. Wait until they are not traumatized to escape the disaster.“What are you going to do?” I whispered. Suggest that she make a decision because, guess what, she needs to make decision, not stew in the madness of the moment.“How could you?” Oneida lowered her attack stance and took a half-step back.“There is no way I can explain this,” I sighed. My legs came up to shield my exposed crotch plus I dropped Rhada’s knife. “Even if I could make this sound rational, I wouldn’t put you in that spot. This is an impossible reality.” Okay, that last bit was bullshit.“Is Rhada okay?” Oneida began to focus on the immediate and relegated the past five minutes and the forthcoming repercussions to 'things to do later’. I freed Rhada’s hands and then removed the tape. Rhada picked up her blade and readied it.“Ask her yourself,” I suggested. Sensing Rhada’s insanity rising up. “No Rhada, you cannot stab her. I won’t allow it.”Rhada glared pure, un-distilled hate at Oneida, something the poor girl couldn’t understand.“Rhada, I came here to save you,” Oneida gasped. She also prepared to fight.“You came to take my Cáel for yourself,” Rhada spat. Oneida was back to not understanding anything. It would come soon enough. Women are women after all.“I need to…get something from my backpack,” I warned them both. No one attacked me so I pulled out a set of black jeans and black panties for Rhada.“You brought a change of clothes for her?” Oneida was still playing 'kinky games’ catch up.“Of course he brought me clothes, you insipid fool,” Rhada seethed.“How could we bind our souls into one if I had to walk around…?” Rhada stopped. The idea of walking around naked in my presence appealed to her.“None of this makes any sense,” Oneida protested. It didn’t matter.“Oneida, are your guardians close by?” I asked. I knew the answer, but getting that information out to these to ladies was relevant.Oneida nodded.“Rhada, get dressed and go home. Oneida, go home. I’ll try to have this make sense to you one day,” I said.“No!” Rhada yelped as if I’d stuck her. “I cannot wait any longer.”“Rhada, unless you want Madi to find out and then have ringside seats as starving dogs tear me to pieces, you have to go,” I insisted. I wasn’t afraid of hungry dogs. The Amazons wouldn’t waste the time when they could slit my throat and be done with it. We all three heard a rustle of footsteps maybe fifteen meters away.Rhada looked at me as if she’d witnessed the murder of every kitten on the planet, then shot venom Oneida’s way and finally snuck off, new clothes in hand. Oneida gave me a different look, one etched in sadness and unspoken heartache. She went off to bump into her bodyguards. I holstered my 'junk’ and sat back, wondering why I dated crazy women. The answer was always the same; the sex was fantastic. I’d pay the bill later.(Friday Morning)I was damn tired getting into work. I locked my bike, walked into the lobby and realized something was horribly wrong. A dozen pairs of eyes riveted me with their aggression. The security chicks were in their usual places and unsettling in their nervousness. The dozen sets of eyes; those were Full-Blooded killers, not the standard 'Runner’ security types.Adding to my discomfort, there was no Constanza, or even Naomi. A few of the normal ladies from the Security Detail where there; sadly, I had never caught their names, but they didn’t look like they were waiting for me specifically. I walked up to the security booth, took out my ID badge and offered it up.What followed was mere formality. Of all of the hundreds of males in biker clothes coming into this masculine version of the Sixth layer of Hell, they needed to be absolutely sure it was me.“Cáel Nyilas,” the women at the guard station intoned and in they swarmed. Armed with personal defense weapons (read: SMG’s) with hair-triggers, I had a split second to decide who I really was.A few were clearly SD. The rest; House Guard for families I didn’t recognize.“Have I just won Publisher’s Clearing House sweepstakes, or what?” I grinned foolishly. I’m sure you can be very cool, calm, collected and rational while you laugh at death. I’m not that guy. One of the brutes tried to run off with my valise, a quick tug of war developed and four gun barrels were pushed into me.“Let go,” one of them hissed.“Do I at least get a claim check?” I countered. What I got was a gun barrel slammed down on the back of my hand. My fingers automatically flexed and my carrying case was taken away. The remaining seven members of the Welcome Wagon hustled me to a stairwell…not an elevator and down I went.Two proceeded me into a moderately sized conference down two levels with the rest following behind. We were doing fine until the coffle chains came out. That was my 'fuck it’ moment. It took me two seconds to realize they were no longer going to shoot me. I came to this revelation when I smashed the face of the guard right behind me.She stumbled into guards four through seven behind her. Guards one and two, already in the room, holding my chains, rushed in. One came in with a low sweeping kick. I went even lower, caught her leg and whipped her into the wall. I was on my back as number two advanced. Our legs tangled up, we both grappled, but I had strength and leverage. I pounded her temple against the corner of the table twice; hard.Then came the pain. The rest flooded the room. Number two was down, number one was momentarily stunned and the other five were deadly serious and coming on fast. To all our credits, they didn’t try to overwhelm me with numbers. They closed in from both sides of the table, backing me against a wall.I was pretty good at fighting. I had damaged three of them striking from surprise. Surprise was gone now, as was their sloppy arrogance. This was all business and there was no way I could take on even two of these skilled warriors at the same time. Any advantage I gained over one, I’d lose to the other one so down I went. I was chained up before I could stop seeing double.Collar, hands cuffed at the back, leg shackles and all linked by twin chains. I wasn’t going anywhere fast. I wasn’t done yet. I tried to squirm around to a sitting position.“Stop that,” one of the guards stated.“I’d like to sit up, please,” I requested.With barely a pause, two guards came up, put my back to a wall then went back to their positions.“Thank you,” I responded. Several guards looked at me and smirked. Huh?“They all said you would fight,” the leader grinned.“We were getting a little disappointed then you chose that chokepoint to make your stand. That was clever,” she informed me.“Actually it was the sight of the chains that set me off,” I said. “Against seven of you I had no realistic chance. If I let myself get chained up, I knew I was completely out of options.”Several of the women nodded. Were any of them pissed? Apparently not. Even the one I’d cold-conked rubbed her temple and smiled at me. I worked in an insane asylum.“Is there any way I could make a video message?” I inquired.“No,” was the reply.“Please. Aya of the Epona is at Summer Camp and I want her to know that I’m okay, but won’t be able to see her for a while,” I pled my case.“You will never be able to see her again, so why bother?” another asked.“I love her. Better to give her the illusion I may one day return than the harsh reality that she is doomed to end up like the rest of you,” I explained.“Save some of that defiance for your relocation,” the leader snickered. “You’ll need it.”“Thanks. I will,” I sighed. There was a pause. They were being rather gregarious.“You’ve accepted your fate?” the one I’d knocked out questioned.“The fate you want for me? No. That this will mean my death; yes,” I shrugged.“Bravado,” a different Amazon snorted.“You think so? Once I am relocated I have nothing left to live for. Every ounce of my being will be devoted to ending the hollow parody of an existence I’m left with,” I stared at her. “I’ve beaten your ilk enough times to know I’ll escape that life before too long.”That earned me some silence. They began talking amongst themselves. The group was a mixed group of House Guard and Security Detail reinforcements from other facilities. They either knew each other, or knew someone in common. An hour in, this had become incredibly boring.“When is the meeting?” I asked a women temporarily not in a conversation.She didn’t look surprised. She hid it well.“What meeting?” she countered. I lowered my chin to my chest.“Do you know where I work, what I did yesterday, or how easy it was to figure this out?” I looked up.“What do you know?” she prodded. The others were now watching.“I work for Executive Services, I spent much of yesterday making housing arrangements for a ton of emergency visitors, and since I’ve been doing so many stupid things, plus my reception this morning, I assume the New Directive is under attack,” I laid out my case.“If you figured all that out, why did you show up today?” the leader wondered.“I work here. I have a 6:00 am session on the firing range. Work starts at 7:00 and normally goes to 5:00 with a 3:00 pm break for knife training. Then I either bike home, or work out in the gym, or the pool. Barring being called back to work on a special order, I get a date, a meal and then sex until midnight,” I mused.“I came to work today for the same reason I came in yesterday and last week; I work for a bunch of homicidal lunatics, a few of whom I care for,” I answered. “Their friendship and affection is pointless. I’m good-looking and amusing, a passing distraction in their lives and none of that matters one iota to my survival. I face my condemnation alone and I am okay with that.”“You sound angrier than your words indicate,” an Amazon noted.“I am angry. I don’t desire death,” I shrugged. “I don’t think I deserve this fate yet here we are. Personally, I know I put my hope in karmic rewards for all of us.”“What would that be?” the leader said. She was making small talk to alleviate the boredom.“Today; today I think you deserve a lingering, 24 hour torturous death. Starting with the very youngest followed by the next youngest and the next youngest proceeding in quick succession so that the oldest of you watch your lineages waste away. I want you gripped with hopelessness and despair as you are rendered powerless to control your futures. That’s a fitting ending for the Amazon race today,” I stated.“Does that fantasy make you feel better?” she pressed, somewhat amused.“Of course not,” I laughed. “That is surrendering to hate and that would make me as bad as all of you.”“You know nothing of us,” she said and the others laughed.“Yeah…right. So, how many of you have murdered your paternal unit? Did you herd them into gas chambers, shoot them in the head, or slit their throats?” I grinned. “Do you dump those men and your sons in a massed unmarked graves, or burn them like rubbish? Those poor bastards have gotten the last laugh,” I chuckled. “Sterile females, deformed babies…you taught those men a lesson alright.”“You are all such epic bad-asses, you’ve butchered your way to extinction. But, hey, you’ve got your racial superiority, right?” I chortled.“You should shut up now,” the leader’s eyes narrowed. I shrugged. This time, I had killed the mood so we sat in silence.An undetermined time later, Constanza stormed in and threw my clothes at me; no sign of the rest of my gear, or valise.“Get dressed,” she ordered.“Why?” I asked. She kicked me. The kick was aimed at my ribs, but I able to set up a knee block up in time.“You will do it because you’ve been told to do it,” Constanza snapped. I stayed where I was. “Help me get him dressed,” she addressed the room. I lost the fight if there was any doubt. I looked like a re-dressed corpse. No one would think I’d dressed myself. A few minutes later, the whole troupe plus Constanza frog-marched me to the elevators. I was shackled up thus taking small steps.I ended up farther down that I’d ever been before. Along the way I was given several quick examinations before being taken to two massive wooden doors with two SD guards, one being Naomi. She looked at my chains speculatively.“He has been summoned,” Constanza informed the door guards.One of my initial capturers began unlocking my restraints. I debated putting a knee to her head. That seemed rude so I refrained from violence. Naomi took me by the elbow while the other guard opened one of the doors. She led me into the nearly empty, cavernous room. Eight SD troopers were along the walls and Elsa stood at attention close to what I reasoned was Hayden’s chair.“Stand there,” Elsa pointed to a large piece of slate with a rune upon it.“Sure,” I did as I was instructed. “Why am I here?”“Your only real hope is to be quiet and well-behaved, Cáel,” Elsa told me, resuming her statuesque stance. I honestly figured this was it for me.My jacket came off. I threw it to the closest chair. The tie came off next, looping it through my belt…because it looked weird. I kicked off my shoes and removed my socks, stuffing the socks in the shoes and tossing them to the chair with my jacket. Then I started my morning warm up routine.Sure enough, groups of paired women began entering the room, giving me odd looks before taking their seats. I was doing some handstand push-up (thanks Yasmin) when Katrina walked in with a woman I didn’t know.“Good morning Cáel Nyilas,” she said. “This is my cousin, Arwen.”The push-up, tuck, flip and finishing up with landing on your feet ain’t easy. I added to the difficult by successfully landing on my designated piece of slate floor.“Did your clothing magically fall of, or did they fail to finish dressing you?” Katrina smirked.“Cut me some slack, Boss. I’m three insults away from slinging poo,” I grinned back.“Nice to meet you, Arwen,” I offered my hand. She looked at it, but didn’t shake. “She’s your apprentice?” I groaned to Katrina. She nodded. “That is so not good for me. What did I do wrong this time?”“She thinks I have invested too much of our House prestige in this New Directive and you in particular,” Katrina enlightened me.“What is her survival stratagem then?” I ignored Arwen while addressing Katrina.“Have her cake and eat it too,” Katrina mused. “She thinks we recruit males then kidnap them and make them our slaves…because that has worked so well for us until now. To be fair, she favors genetics while ignoring such things as spirit, courage and loyalty.”“I’m about to die so any insight I might provide is pointless,” I shrugged. “Take care Katrina.”“Male, we are not here to kill you. You will be taken to a facility for breeding,” Arwen 'clarified’ things for me. Katrina and I both broke out in laughter. Arwen didn’t get it. More and more women came in. With them arrived more House Guard. Soon the once vast room seemed to not be big enough.Among other fans of yours truly was Ursula, the woman who sent Leona to kill me with her bow. It didn’t take me long to determine there were four distinct groups. The smallest group hated my heart for daring to beat. The largest group seemed uncertain that me having a functioning cerebral cortex was a good thing.The second largest group was worried; about their very existence, but weren’t sure I was the answer. The final group, nearly as big as the next largest group, was Hayden’s pro-New Directive faction. As a plus, they also weren’t afraid to show me some affection personally. When there were only seven chairs left unfilled, Hayden rose for the opening prayer.The 'junior’ members started the chorus as the last 'senior’ joined the main intonation. When the chanting ended, everyone but Hayden sat back down.“A small number of issues necessitate this unheralded meeting,” Hayden began. “A male knows our language, our nature and the secret. I seek guidance.”And then the shit-storm began. The only people not involved were Hayden, Saint Marie on Hayden’s right, and an unknown older Amazon I didn’t know. My life was being debated and I was losing in a bad way. Beyoncé rallied support for me. She was sadly outnumbered but persistent. Among the oldest houses I saw Oneida sitting junior with house Arinniti.Her house was the only one silent, which seemed rather odd. A consensus was reached. I would get to live, but I would be imprisoned for the rest of my existence; not even a breeding male. That was my 'reward’ for channeling the ancestors thus saving Oneida’s life. Hayden rose once more, took a hand count and raised her hand for quiet.“I will consult with the ancestors on this matter,” Hayden announced. “Does anyone have other salient points to add?”That was perfunctory. Everyone had already spoken so when the head of House Arinniti stood up, everyone around her whispered in confusion. She lightly slapped her hand on the table for attention.“I do, High Priestess,” the woman stated. Even Oneida looked worried and confused.“I recognize Shawnee, Head of House Arinniti,” Hayden nodded then resumed seating.“My sisters, I seek your agreement that you refrain from comment before I have made my three key statements,” Shawnee requested. She looked around the room, getting nods; some reluctant.(1)“First, I must confess to a crime against the Host and the Council,” Shawnee began. There were hushed murmurs. “At the end of the Second Betrayal, my house argued tirelessly for the salvation of the males who remained loyal. The Council voted against us so the head of my house defied the council and spared three of our sons.”Murmurs became shouts of outrage. Hayden used a subtle voice of menace to restore order.(2) “Second, Two Ash Men arrived after the rest; a veteran fighter of three and a half decades and a young man of twenty years. Knowing there was no hope for our sons, we took these two aside and instructed them to take our sons south, to a dubious future. That was our crime and it might never have been revealed if it wasn’t for the New Directive.”“As you now know, Oneida, my granddaughter and heir, gave her Death Pledge. Cáel Nyilas intervened and, acting as a vessel for the Ancestors, he showed Hayden that her pledge had been rejected; for the first time in 3000 years,” Shawnee looked around the table. “At first I was simply grateful for my granddaughter’s life.”“As that euphoria faded, I began to ask why he acted as he had. I began wondering why, while in dire pain, Cáel refused water and comfort, instead asking for songs in our tongue? That made no sense…unless,” Shawnee’s face deepened in thought as she let the implications of that thought hang in the air. “Thus I had Cáel’s genetic identity tested, to see if…”“To see if he was one of your bastard male offspring returned after all these centuries,” Ursula stood and seethed. Hayden slapped her palm on the table for order.“Oh Ursula,” Shawnee smirked, “the ancestors are wiser than you, or me. Had I received my heart-wish and had one of those boys return, they would be condemned by Arinniti’s sins and the Council’s decision.”“But…” Shawnee persisted. Several Amazon’s looked my way, clearly bewildered.“We had to check the skulls of the ancestors for that,” Shawnee stated. “We took a tooth and it confirmed his lineage. He is the descendent of the young man. He never broke faith with the Host. He was unaware when ordered by the Arinniti what the Council had decided, thus he was guiltless.”“Who?” Hayden demanded. Shawnee looked down the table, but not far.(3)“Cáel Nyilas is of the blood of Ishara,” Shawnee stated. I waited to see which house leader freaked out. None did. Then I realized they were all staring at an empty chair and it just happened to be one of the chairs closest to Hayden. NOT good.The screaming, shouting and yelling began. The house leaders were standing up, shaking fingers and launching threats at one another. Me? I was trying to recall who Ishara was. She eventually became Ishtar, Goddess of War. In the Old Kingdom Hittite she was also the Goddess of Oaths, Love and Medicine. The only three people at the table not going nuts where Saint Marie, Hayden and the woman at her side.That woman was looking at her tablet intently. Once more the group reached consensus and I was still boned. I was still a male, so my lineage meant nothing. I wasn’t part of the Host. Hayden took another deep breath, acknowledging this second decision.“You are all incorrect,” the unknown tablet-reader spoke.Everyone looked at her and nobody was yelling.“Elsa, who is that?” I whispered.“Krasimira, Keeper of Records,” Elsa quietly informed me.“What…what do you mean?” Messina, Fabiola’s Mom stammered.“Only nine males went unaccounted for at the end of the Second Betrayal. The rest are recorded meeting their deaths in battle, or death by our hand. Of those nine, only one was of House Ishara and he would have barely been of mating age,” Krasimira related.“So?” Ursula remarked. “He’s still a male.”Krasimira looked at Ursula as if she was talking to a five year old.“He was a member of the Host. If Shawnee of Arinniti is to be believed, Vranus, Cáel’s ancestor, lived and died in service to the Host. He was never removed from our records, so he died a member of the Host, so his descendants are also members of the Host.”“He married without permission of his house, thus he is illegitimate,” an old enemy from Egypt chimed in.“Perhaps,” Krasimira nodded. “That is a matter he must take up with the Head of House Ishara.”“There is no Head of House Ishara!” Ursula stated the obvious and pointed at the empty chair.“Again, you are incorrect,” Krasimira shook her head. She half turned in her chair. “There is a Head of House Ishara and he’s standing right there.” Even Hayden had a problem with that.“But he’s male,” Hayden declared.“That is Irrelevant,” Krasimira said.“To be the head of a house, one must either be elected by the peers of your house, succeed in accepted ritual combat, or, in extremis, it shall be the eldest surviving member of the Host of that house. Cáel Nyilas is clearly the oldest member of House Ishara currently in the Host,” she quoted Amazon law, “so he is House Ishara’s head.” Silence reigned.“Gun,” I extended my hand to Elsa. She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” I growled. Elsa didn’t look for guidance. She wasn’t that type. She drew her .45 automatic and put in in my hand.“The safety is engaged,” she enlightened me. I left my spot and began rounding the table to 'my’ seat.“One more step and I’ll shoot you where you stand,” Ursula threatened.“No you won’t,” Saint Marie stood. “I’ll kill you first.”“Ursula of Marda, you have no justification to attack House Ishara,” Hayden explained. “I don’t like this anymore than you do. We do not pick and choose which laws to follow. Accept the will of our ancestors.”There were between fifteen and twenty women close by aching to put bullets in me. I didn’t stop because that wouldn’t be me. I ended up by the chair and absorbed the essence of this tiny shard of reality. Was I the son of some lost 'First’ House? Without a doubt, the placement of this chair was in the top ten on this side. The ones across from me were all clearly 'First’ Houses as well.The chair was old; maybe two hundred years. It held a sadness to it; no one had ever sat in it. It had been built knowing no one would ever sit on it. I thought about Pamela. I thought about holding Oneida up and refusing to let her die. That effort was me, physically conditioned over years, but I had never discounted willpower.It was possible that man could indeed be found back somewhere in my ancestry. Few invaders wipe out all the indigenous inhabitants. Usually they intermarry with the invading culture overwhelming the previous one. I couldn’t forget my present and future while examining my past. I put the gun down. Hostility washed over me in palatable waves.I pulled back the chair. The room was about to explode. I kept moving it back, farther and farther until it was clear I wouldn’t be sitting in it.“I will stand for House Ishara,” I announced. “I will not vote though I will speak my thoughts on matters. I will hold this spot until I have a daughter of age.”“No man of House Ishara has ever voted in the Council of the Host and no man will now,” I kept going. “Outside of those concessions to my Mothers, I am House Ishara. I am right here. If you have a problem with me, I will be easy to find. I have never hidden from you bitches and I’m not going to start now.”“You insult us,” Messina stood up. Five other women joined her.“By all means,” Katrina stood, “we eagerly await your challenge.” Eight other women joined her. I hadn’t suddenly become more popular. Between my refusal to vote, the bizarre revelation of Shawnee and the gravitas of the 'First’ Houses, the more conservative women were retiring to regroup.Messina’s backing down lasted only seconds. She immediately proposed that no male be allowed to be a member of the Host; disqualifying me by fiat. Krasimira wasn’t going for that. Amazons could not legislate a member of the Host, or a House, out of existence. That’s why they had killed the Ash Men in the first place. Technically, they had been Amazons.They couldn’t make them 'not-Amazons’ and there was no exile in this society. Eminently practical, they made them dead instead. That was coming back to bite them in the ass now, because they killed them; they’d never taken them off the rolls. Poor, young Vranus had loyally led his charges away on orders. Had he fled, they would have put him under a death sentence; which I would have to fulfill.No, my ancestor was unsurprisingly pig-headed. One senior warrior and three children…sure, let’s walk off into the wilderness with hostile tribes all around. Why? They told him to and like a loyal little mutton-head he’d obeyed. If I believed in magic, or mysticism, I’d worry about how I ended up in that first board meeting speaking this fucked-up language.I’d re-examine how Leona had missed that crucial first shot because Aya had missed hers. Aya herself and the same spiritual twist that caused Oneida to hurl her life into my unsteady hands. I’d like to put that to accident and genetic abnormalities. Then there was Pamela. I’d like to think she was delusional, suffering from an acid flashback, or whatever.Shawnee slid a wooden box; a meter by 70 cm; to me. Whatever parliamentary etiquette Amazons followed was unknown to me. I opened the box. Inside was what looked like a lamb, or sheep, skin pressed in some kind of glass. The artifact looked horribly old and was faded to the stage where it was barely legible.I let the buzz die down around me as I squinted at the picture. There were five figures; from the left was a tall one with a shield and spear, three small figures, and another tall man…with two axes. That was…no I couldn’t accept that, not right now. Along both sides and the top were prayers of some kind, though they were too faded to make out accurately. On the bottom were five names. The right-most was Vranus.Oneida hadn’t been trapped by madness and pride. She’d been a slave to destiny. She had seen this skin, I was sure. She’d seen me with my two axes and when it turned out to be more than show, she’d had to save me and she couldn’t tell anyone why because of the Arinniti sin. Perhaps she had some delusion we were distantly related. Now wasn’t the time to ask.I closed the box and slid it back. In my absence, the verdict for House Arinniti was narrowed down. Some wanted Shawnee’s head because she was the inheritor of those lies. Others wanted Oneida’s head because it would be a more terrible lesson for her house. I didn’t like those ideas.“Are you seriously arguing about the paint on the doghouse while your home is burning down?” I mocked them.“You don’t…,” a different, yet still hostile, Amazon choked out.“They didn’t sell your sisters to the Roman coliseum,” I glared. “They valued bravery and loyalty over conformity. Did they defy the Council? Yes. I think we all agree with that. Put in context though, the rest of you fucked up.”Tons of 'how dare you’ and descriptive insults to my family, gender, species and intelligence.“Answer me this; Ursula, can you turn around right now and slit your 'apprentice’s’ throat?” I posed. I could see the 'no’ forming on her lips before the Great Wall of Implications fell on her head.“Everyone in this room that voted for the slaughter of the Ash Men broke your own laws,” I explained. “You had every right to kill your sons. They were legally and physically helpless. The Ash Men; they were members of the Host…and there is every indication you butchered them without trial, or attempt at redress. Correct me if I’m wrong, but those men did not break the law; you did.”“You are correct,” Krasimira said. “All members of the Host must be informed of their crimes and seek trial if they disagree. Any sentence of Death can be appealed to the High Priestess, who can commute the sentence, assign an ordeal of some kind, or have it carried out.” What doomed Leona was the obvious nature of her crime in front of the High Priestess.The only person who protested was Ursula, the Mistress of Leona’s house. Looking back on things, Ursula had acted insanely sending Leona to kill me. Yes, she would have derailed the New Directive for a few years. She would also have alienated every neutral member of the Council. The vote for the New Directive was distasteful yet deemed necessary by enough houses for it to pass.The vote at the end of the Second Betrayal…that was the issue now. Ms. Senior Egypt made one last end-run around the process.“What is to stop him from bringing more men into the Host?” she muddied the water. Me? I pulled out my shirt and looked down at my chest.“Is someone making fun of my A-cup sized breasts?” I appealed to Hayden. A tiny smile crossed her lips.“I am not sure Cáel,” Hayden responded. “Fatima, be precise with the nature of your worries.”“He should not be allowed to recruit into his house until his status is decided,” Fatima stated.“His status is not in question,” Hayden purred. That was the 'I’m about to lose patience with you’ purr.“I would never recruit anyone into House Ishara who was not qualified. It is insulting to think otherwise. Is there a specific male you are worried about?” I inquired.“I don’t know you, or your ways,” Fatima spat.“You need to think about what you just said, Fatima,” I snorted. “So, not knowing anything about me you are making assumptions about what I might do? As you said yourself, you don’t know me.”“If you did, you would know that while I wish virtually every Amazon alive would drop dead, thus making the world a much better place, I would never embarrass Katrina, or betray her. Now, are you going to keep looking stupid, or are you going to accept that House Arinniti not only acted in accordance to Amazon law 2500 years ago, they continue acting so today,” I stated.“After all, they risked everyone’s anger for the restoration of one of your eldest houses. When I turned out not to be one of Arinniti’s long-lost sons, they could have kept quiet. They did not. Arinniti bravery means one day a daughter of Ishara will bring her voice to this council once more. They certainly didn’t do this for themselves. Ask yourself if you would have the courage to bring such possible shame to your family prestige,” I challenged the Host.“You trained your monkey well,” Messina mocked Katrina.“Ah…” I mused as I picked up my pistol. “Safety.” I got a feel for the weapon. “Messina, what’s the name of your 'apprentice’?”“You wouldn’t dare,” Messina hissed.“You dare to insult me and my House, Whore-Bitch,” I smiled insanely. “Why do you think I’ll let you get away with that? I’m not going to kill her; just gut-shoot her.”“Pull that trigger and you will die,” Messina spat. Her junior looked far less pleased with the turn of events.“Not relevant. My House Prestige is too great to suffer such an insult. You did call me, the choice of a hundred generations of House Ishara ancestors, a monkey,” I pointed out.“Cáel of Ishara, put the gun down…please,” Saint Marie sort of asked. I clicked the safety and put the gun back down on the table.Messina was looking terribly pleased with herself, ignoring 'The Golden Mare’ coming around her side of the table. The hair-yank Saint Marie inflicted made me recoil in shock and I was some distance away Messina. Slap-backhand-slap-backhand. Saint Marie released Messina’s hair. Messina stumbled back, fearful and furious at the same time.“Are you going to exert some common courtesy, or shall we continue?” the Marshal of the Amazon Host glared at Messina. “I don’t like him, or where he stands, but I am far more embarrassed by your behavior. At least the male exerts some restraint. The rest of you are acting like he is a weakling-idiot. He is not. Know your opponent dammit.”“Wait! Hayden, now that I’m…” I got all excited.“No, Cáel, you still may not refer to the Marshal of the Amazon Host as 'Pony-Lady’,” Hayden scolded me. I snapped my finger over the lost opportunity. A pregnant pause was suddenly vacated by a snicker and then several more until half the table had to hold their hands over their mouths.“Did you really call (dead word spoken) Saint Marie, 'Pony-Lady’?” this unknown House Leader asked. She wasn’t one of my fans.“Only after she kicked my ass, totally humiliating me,” I revealed. “I got one punch in. Next thing I knew I was wondering how regularly they changed the fluorescent lighting in the Firing Range while I was on my back, soaking up the cold comfort of the concrete floor.”It took them a second to figure out what I meant. Saint Marie was already marching back to her chair.“You are very poetic,” another commented.“That is how I learned your tongue; I was taught Old Kingdom Hittite erotic and love poetry. I know the same in nine other forgotten languages, as well as four current languages,” I informed them.“Hayden, you would not dare chastise any other Head of House the way you treated; him,” Ursula griped.“In what possible universe would Cáel Nyilas be considered normal?” Hayden countered. “He is not like any other Head of House. He forgoes voting because HE values our traditions.”“He does not sit in his designated seat at our table because he takes into consideration our sensibilities. This from a man we all decided to imprison forever not five minutes ago. If any of you think he does this out of fear, you are sorely mistaken. He is a person of many failings without question yet he is courageous to a fault,” Hayden lectured the room. “Saint Marie, what was the first thing he said to you after you crushed him?”“He said 'What. Had enough already?’” she snorted. “Those were his exact words, lying on his back, looking up at me. I thought I had concussed him.”“This is not a humorous matter,” Egypt Senior was still cranky.“I don’t know about that,” Saint Marie reposed. “I found it to be fun actually.”“Even the part where he had the gun pointed at me was interesting. I was certain he was about to shoot me,” Saint Marie continued.“Pity he missed you,” Messina glared.“He didn’t miss me, Messina,” Saint Marie sneered. “I told him to give me the gun and he gave it to me. He’s not disloyal, just pugnacious.”“What of Arinniti’s crime?” Beyoncé prodded. She wasn’t feeling self-righteous. Quite the opposite; the mood had shifted away from bloodlust to uncertainty. Amazons liked decisiveness. They also liked only having to do something once and being done with it. That was the riptide of the New Directive; some houses couldn’t let go of the fact they’d lost.That constant pecking away at the plan were the half-measures Katrina was complaining to Hayden about. From my experience, the Ash Men was Katrina’s goal all along. Had she been open and honest with this desire, there was no way any aspect of the New Directive would be implemented.If you believed in conspiracy theories, Katrina had groomed me for some time. If you believed in luck, Katrina was cosmically lucky our paths collided. If you believed in mysticism, I was fucked. Let’s not forget that there were three millennia of bad ass bitches on the other side of the spiritual divide who thought nothing of guiding me into a life full of fear, heartache and pain.A lengthy debate ended in a classic Amazon compromise; they forgot about it. Literally, they erased the crime against the Ash Men and Arinniti’s 'omission’ of sparing three of their sons. What had happened to all my 'Ash’ brethren? Whoops; they were misplaced. They weren’t erased from the rolls; that would make my existence inexplicable, so we remained honorary Amazons.I was sure their angry ghosts were totally mollified. I was sure me and the first female Pope would get it on too. As the meeting was breaking up, one of the 'unfriendly’ Amazons shot me a remark.“I supposed you are elated,” she grumbled.“Really? You think so? Here, let me sell all your underage daughters to Romany gypsies so that you never see them again and you’ll have an inkling of how I feel,” I smiled serenely.“You should be happy you are allowed to stand in our presence,” she got truly pissy.“Lady, I won’t be happy until I get to hunt hate-filled monsters like you for sport,” I kept smiling.“Until then, I’m afraid we are both going to have to live unsatisfying lives,” I added.“Perhaps we should handle this with a blood feud?” she salivated at the prospect.“Sure. I’ll get the Neutron Bomb we have in the Armory. You chose whatever you like. I’ll meet you downtown at noon,” I proposed.It is much better to make a nuclear weapon joke and not have every authority figure in the room glance at you nervously. Did we really have a nuclear warhead in the basement? Fuck if I knew. They’d have never told me if there was. I felt a hand on my shoulder and recalled the touch.“Cáel Nyilas, you are forbidden from engaging in blood feuds; in your case, feuds of any kind until one lunar cycle is completed,” Hayden instructed.“Thank you. I appreciate that,” my honesty, heartfelt reply slipped forth.“My judgment wasn’t for you, Cáel. You’ve caused catastrophic trauma to our society as an outsider. I tremble to think what you can do now that you are one of us,” Hayden gave me a truly serene response. “Give me a little time to prepare.”“Oh! Great idea,” I exclaimed. “Gotta go!” and I raced for the door, tossing Elsa her gun.“Should I shoot him?” Elsa suggested. “Only to slow him down a bit.” I made it to the elevator carrying my jacket and shoes. With me were four sets of Amazons that wanted me dead and one set who were rather ambivalent about the whole matter.I caught one of the 'hater’ juniors looking at me. I turned my head enough so we could make prolonged eye contact. I smiled. Reluctantly she smiled back. I leaned in slightly.“Can I borrow your phone? SD beat me up earlier and stole all my stuff,” I innocently requested. I was pretty sure she was as surprised as every other man-hater in the box that she handed it over.Like shooting fish in a barrel. I began making a few quick texts to the three crucial people in my scheme.“What did you do that for?” her senior hissed. With my brand new Stinky Pooh-Bah status, she couldn’t knock the device out of my hands.“I don’t know,” she pleaded to her superior. I finished up then handed it back.“Your 'apprentice’ has rendered House Ishara an important service that shall be entered into our records of boons and debts,” I nodded gravely. “What is your name?”“Gale,” she batted her eyelashes. “What did I do?”“What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?” I magically conjured up her hand in mine with my fingertips coursing over her palm and wrist. “I’ll explain it then.”“You may not spend time with this…person,” Senior insisted.“We should not overlook an opportunity to make an alliance with a First House,” Gale countered.Bang! Looking like trout for lunch. Gale won, I won and we were meeting at my place so we could figure out where to eat; yummy. Somewhere in the episode, I’d introduce Odette into the mix. It was only fair. I was asking her to hide in Timothy’s room until I got Gale warmed up after all.I was the first one of the 'team’ to arrive. I was nervously pacing Katrina’s office when Desiree and Paula showed up. Desiree took a casual seat on the sofa while Paula hovered around my desk.“Is this going to be really bad, or really good?” Desiree mused.“Why should you have to choose?” I laughed. “Besides, we are aiming for epic status today.”“Why are we here?” Paula worried. I stopped. I had a 'Eureka!’ moment. There probably was a Bible for what I was planning to do, but they hadn’t given it to me. I ran to the bathroom and came back with a glass.“Desiree, I need two things. I need your sharp, pointy thing and for you to slap me until I cry,” I looked at her expectantly.“My pleasure,” Desiree rocked up from her seat. “Slapping then knife?” I nodded. I was still in the painful smacking process when Buffy and Violet entered.“Can anyone join?” Buffy asked Paula.“I…I don’t think so,” Paula shook her head. “He’s got a plan. I don’t know what for.” I dodged Desiree’s final swing. I had gathered enough tears; I hoped.“That was truly therapeutic, Cáel,” Desiree stated. “Let me know if you need a repeat performance.” She handed me her small knife.Helena and Daphne finally strolled in. I wove past them, retrieved a piece of paper which I tore in two and two pens.“Helena and Buffy, please write your names down on these pages,” I requested.“What the hell?” Buffy growled. “What is this about?”“Trust me,” I met her gaze.“Buffy, Cáel is an ass, but he’s not crazy. He’s up to something,” Desiree intervened. Helena stepped up and wrote her name. Buffy followed suit. I took the pages to Katrina’s desk.“Come forth and kneel before me,” I commanded.This was the point in the ritual when I figured my death was most likely. Buffy shot an evil look at Desiree then very reluctantly complied. Helena followed. Hmmm…Amazons kneel with both knees on the ground. That puts their mouths almost…I had to keep with the program. I burned the two autographs and scattered the ashes.“There is no Buffy DuBois. There is no Helena Shultz,” I began. I dipped a finger into the shallow pool of my tears. I ran one down under the left eye of each lady. “With this, I open your eyes to the joys and sorrows of our ancestors.” That brought on a hush and the anger in Buffy’s eyes evaporated.I cut my left forefinger then motioned them to do the same. First Buffy: I linked our bloody digits.“With this, our blood is mixed. You are Buffy of House Ishara from this moment forth. You are the first of this House. You are our spear and shield,” I met her gaze. She started crying.“You are Helena of House Ishara from this moment forth,” I continued on. “You are the second of this House. You keep the records of our Host, keep track of our deeds, sins and accounts.” Helena began weeping too. Had I said 'just joking’, the cleaning team would have been finding torn pieces of me weeks later.“House Ishara is dead,” Daphne stated the obvious.“Suffice it to say, long ago, House Ishara brought a male into their ranks as a member of the House,” I started. I motioned for my two House-mates…members to rise.“The Second Betrayal,” Violet interrupted.“Yes. During the Second Betrayal, some males remained loyal. My descendent was sent on a mission for the Host. The mission took him past his lifespan. His offspring continued on until you end up with me; being here; today. Suffice it to say, he was never removed from the rosters of the Host, thus every offspring was a member too,” I recalled recent edited events.“By Amazon law, House Leaders are selected by their peers, victors in a challenge for leadership, or…” I continued.“The eldest of the house,” Daphne gasped. “Since Ishara is…since all the female members of the Host are dead, you are the eldest member of the Host.”“You don’t have to be a female?” Desiree muttered. “That’s insane. We are Amazons.”“There hasn’t been a male in the host for over 2500 years,” I explained. “It never came up. Back when they had them, there simply weren’t enough men to worry about. Afterwards, there were NO men to worry about. Apparently your ancestors thought writing down 'eldest female’ was redundant.”“That had to have gone down like a mouse passing an elephant turd,” Paula muttered. We all looked at her. “What? Since I met Cáel, I’ve been writing down little phrases to use in situations like now. This was the first one I could recall.”“Actually, they wept tears of joy, lifted me up on their shoulders and sung paeans to my glory,” I lied.“So, when do you think the first assassination attempt will be?” Desiree shook her head. This was a lot for her to take in. Not only was my tale fantastic, Buffy was her friend and Desiree knew that Buffy bled for a chance to join the Host and had done so for years.“Why do you think I called Buffy first?” I snickered.“I won’t let you down,” Buffy declared with grim determination.“Calm down, Buffy,” I assured her. “I don’t think me being casually snuffed out is on their agenda. They’ve already gone through a torturous compromise to end up with this screwed up situation.”“So why did you pick me…and Helena?” Buffy studied me.“Buffy, you are the most amazon-Amazon I know,” I told her. “You like Helena and she said nice stuff about Daphne which showed her character, so I chose her next.”“Hey, this means I can finally slap Fabiola around,” Buffy’s eyes grew bright.“Which reminds me; can I get any volunteers for Old Kingdom Hittite lessons for these two,” I begged my 'new hire’ companions.“I’ll take two nights a week,” Daphne offered.“I’ll take one night,” Paula added.“I’ll take a fourth,” Violet completed the set.“Damn it,” Desiree cursed. “This means Buffy must be taught the Prayer of the Ancestors.”“You are right,” Buffy gasped. “I accompany Cáel to Council meetings now.”“One note; I don’t vote,” I informed them. “I made that decision. House Ishara has never had a male vote for it and I’m keeping that tradition. I can speak, but not vote. When my daughter comes of age, she will have full rights.”Desiree, Buffy and Helena were confused. Daphne, Violet and Paula, on the other hand, were enraptured. This was the only life; only tradit

I talk with Norman Lock about his American novel series, and why it should matter to biographers. This is my longest, most searching podcast.

In this installment of TPS Reports the Squares and Jarv discuss Term getting doxxed, Mia Goth, being gored by a bison, top 3 features dead or alive, doing bad impersonations & getting upset over sporting events. Outro song: "Dead House" by Acumental Smoochie Gang Playlist Term's Album of the Week Playlist Please send questions, stories & whatever else to tpsreportspodcast@gmail.com and feel free to leave us a voicemail at 708-797-3079. The Palmer Squares on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Patreon & more!  Shop for Official TPS Merchandise

In this installment of TPS Reports the Squares and Jarv discuss childhood injuries, opening for Everlast, hanging out with comedians, rapping for Nate Diaz, sharing beds & terrible hotel internet. CLICK HERE to pre-save "Dead House" by Acumental Outro song: "Skank Shit" by Crack Amico Smoochie Gang Playlist Term's Album of the Week Playlist Please send questions, stories & whatever else to tpsreportspodcast@gmail.com and feel free to leave us a voicemail at 708-797-3079. The Palmer Squares on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Patreon & more!  Shop for Official TPS Merchandise

Episode 122 is based on the popular and spooky tale, 'Welcome to Dead House' where kids Amanda and Josh move to a big spooky house in a big spooky neighborhood. Please have a listen! Are you perhaps a young entrepreneur? Follow us on frickin' instagram: https://www.instagram.com/l00kmanoscript/ Additional sound effects from https://www.zapsplat.com --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/look-ma-no-script/support

In this installment of TPS Reports the Squares and Jarv discuss punk rock fight club, meeting pro skaters, Darren Carter "The Party Starter", tone of voice, having a crush on Dustin & talking over people. CLICK HERE to pre-save "Dead House" by Acumental !!! Outro song: "Sound The Alarm" by Dillon & Paten Locke Smoochie Gang Playlist Term's Album of the Week Playlist Please send questions, stories & whatever else to tpsreportspodcast@gmail.com and feel free to leave us a voicemail at 708-797-3079. The Palmer Squares on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Patreon & more!  Shop for Official TPS Merchandise

For adults please check out ‘the short story pod' also by John Able for a Halloween episode coming soon. Please leave a rating or review on Amazon, ITunes, Spotify or Goodreads and please come talk to me at johnablewriter@gmail.com

We now have a rating on Spotify which is great to see. Thank you for taking the time to share your opinion. Feel free to come chat to me at johnablewriter@gmail.com

Look out RL Stine, we're coming for you! AND your mole! Hahaha, I kid, I kid... Ahh... we have fun... Whoops! Anyway, Short and Spooky (The podcast about anthology shows) is coming at you with an episode discussing the show Goosebumps! This two-part episode (thanks Tom) is based on the first Goosebumps book ever written "Welcome to Dead House" Hmm... I don't know what's going on with the grammar there... who cares? Check it out! Please rate, review, subscribe, and tell your friends! --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/shortandspooky/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/shortandspooky/support

HILARIOUS. Lindsay and Barbara laugh their way through Billy O'Callaghan's haunting Irish ghost story about a woman who fixes up her dream cottage only to get possessed by a neo-pagan potato famine murderer. Featuring: Home renovation! Artists! DIY ouija (WHO KNEW IT WAS PRONOUNCED WEE-GEE!?)! And the unspeakable horror of moldy potatoes.

Welcome to our newest show-within-a-show! In case you can't tell by the name, we're reading a selection of eight spooktacular books from R.L. Stine's Goosebumps series. Some Patreon supporters get these episodes monthly, but every two months we'll combine them for general consumption. In Episode 1, we do some table-setting on the series, Stine, and Scholastic books -- then we dive into the first entry in this long-running series of kids' horror books: Welcome to Dead House. In Episode 2, we try to figure out what kind of grow operation Dad's got cooking up in the basement in Stay Out of the Basement!  Find out more about how to get these episodes monthly at patreon.com/overduepod. Also, here's the full GOOSEBUMS reading list: Welcome to Dead House Stay Out of the Basement Monster Blood Say Cheese and Die - Again! Night of the Living Dummy The Haunted Mask A Night in Terror Tower Egg Monsters from Mars   See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Listener beware, you're in for...zombies! This week, Brandon and Courtland watch the thirty-seventh episode of Goosebumps and discuss people popping out of walls like it's going out of style, a lunch date that god himself couldn't cancel, and finally a family that actually cares about their dog. Linktree - https://linktr.ee/PrivateIsland Follow us on Twitter - https://twitter.com/PrvtIsland Laugh with us on Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/privateislandpresents/ Connect with fans on Discord - https://discord.gg/2RAp2af

From a very young age, Andy Hopkins learned that he was a beacon to spirits, not all of which was kind. Some were intent on frightening them and forcing us out. In this house, he spent nights cowering from the shadows that stalked the hallways. Nights were spent wondering whether the unseen footsteps were coming my way to scare him or worse. Today, we will step inside the true story of what it was like to grow up with the gift of seeing spirits and see why this “gift” was also a curse, as the harrowing ghosts twisted and infused their way into his life; changing it forever. [embed]https://audioboom.com/posts/7815583-battling-darkness-a-conversation-with-plato-angelakis.mp3[/embed] PART 2 - AVAILABLE TO GRAVE KEEPERS ONLY - LISTEN HERE In part two of our interview, available only to Grave Keepers, we discuss: Just how dark was the energy in Andy's house, and how scary did things get?  Did anything make the dark entity subside in the Park Roadhouse?  Where did the spirits come from in the house? Were they always in the house waiting in the wings?  What was the history of the house, beyond the friendly grandmother who died there? As a Grave Keeper, for $5 per month you will get: Access to every episode of our show, AD-FREE – MONTHS BEFORE THEY GO PUBLIC. Access to every EXCLUSIVE PART 2 episode of our show for Grave Keeper Only! Access to submit questions to upcoming guests of our show. The “good feeling” knowing that you are keeping this show alive (It really does feel good!) Listen to part two of this interview and get exclusive access to HUNDREDS of bonus episodes at http://www.patreon.com/thegravetalks

Listener beware, you're in for a...hideous garbage wreathe? This week, Brandon and Courtland watch the thirty-sixth episode of Goosebumps and discuss live-in realtors, the beautiful relationship between Bob Ross and Rick Astley, and a dog that hates absolutely everyone and everything. Linktree - https://linktr.ee/PrivateIsland Follow us on Twitter - https://twitter.com/PrvtIsland Laugh with us on Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/privateislandpresents/ Connect with fans on Discord - https://discord.gg/2RAp2af

Life Sentences (Godine, 2022) tells three interconnected stories about a family in his home country of Ireland. In lyrical, moving prose, with characters that reach across the years, Billy O'Callaghan describes births, deaths, war, and the life of his family. The book begins in the 1920's with Jeremiah, who survived as a soldier in the Great War. He's drunk and jailed on the night before his sister's funeral to prevent him from killing his sister's husband. “Life had its struggles,” he says as he muses about his family and experiences, “but we bore them in the way that our kind always do.” The second part goes back to the 1880's, and Jer's mother, Nancy, recounts being the only member of her family to survive the Great Potato Famine. Starving, she left her tiny island home to find work on the mainland and was wooed by Michael Egan, the man who fathered her two children and haunted her for years. The third section is in the voice of Nellie, Jer's youngest daughter, who is nearing the end of her life. This is a beautifully written novel about family, home, poverty, loss, and the struggle to live in a difficult world. Billy O'Callaghan, from Cork, Ireland, is the author of four short story collections (In Exile, In Too Deep, The Things We Lose, The Things We Leave Behind, and The Boatman) and the novels The Dead House and My Coney Island Baby. His work has been translated into a dozen languages and earned him numerous honours, including four Bursary Awards for Literature from the Arts Council of Ireland and, in 2013, a Bord Gais Energy Irish Book Award for the Short Story of the Year, as well as shortlistings for the COSTA Award and the Royal Society of Literature's Encore Award. His short stories have appeared in such literary journals and magazines around the world as: Agni, the Chattahoochee Review, the Kenyon Review, London Magazine, Los Angeles Review, Narrative Magazine, Ploughshares, the Saturday Evening Post and Winter Papers. A new novel, The Paper Man, will be published in the UK and Ireland by Jonathan Cape in 2023. When Billy isn't reading or writing, he's a big fan of Liverpool Football Club (called soccer in the U.S.). G. P. Gottleib interviews authors of beautifully written literary fiction and mysteries, and tries to focus on independently published novels, especially by women and others whose voices deserve more attention. If your upcoming or recently published novel might be a candidate for a podcast, please contact me via my website, gpgottlieb dot com. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Here we go! In this episode we are talking about the classic R.L. Stine book that started it all: Welcome to Dead House.

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There goes the neighborhood! On the very first episode of You Can't Scare Me, Bob falls in love with the best puppy, Mario has issues with an old family heirloom, and Rachel gets acclimated to her constantly haunted bedroom! See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.