Podcasts about Oink

Bailey's aunt is up to antics at the gym, Dave gives us uncomfortable truths, and more!

Bailey's aunt is up to antics at the gym, Dave gives us uncomfortable truths, and more!

Episode 345 The Snobs discuss the homing pigeon Cher Ami who saved the lost battalion in 1918 and OINK Games, specifically, In a Grove and Startups. Enjoy! Our Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/bgsnobs Follow/join us at: Board Game Snobs Discord https://www.instagram.com/boardgamesnobs/ Board Game Snobs Facebook Group For merch: https://sirmeeple.com/collections/board-game-snobs For questions, comments or general adulation: Send emails to boardgamesnobs@gmail.com

Bailey's aunt is up to antics at the gym, Dave gives us uncomfortable truths, and more!

Unit 7 Oink, Oink! Get to Know the Snorting Humuhumunukunukuāpuaʻa! 這隻來自夏威夷的州魚可不簡單！牠不僅會發出像豬一樣的叫聲，還擁有驚人的防禦技能。雖然名字很難發音，但牠的生存智慧絕對讓你刮目相看。一起來認識這隻聰明又機智的小魚吧！

The latest BARRACKS TALK podcast episode is waiting, press 'play' now!   In this episode of BARRACKS TALK, hosts Bo & Oink, along with JJ SGT WarDawg, engage in their usual unfiltered conversation covering a wide array of topics. They discuss technical issues, personal anecdotes, work frustrations due to a federal hiring freeze, and even delve into the difference between animal rights and the rights of disabled individuals with service animals. They also actively promote various ventures like DV Radio merchandise, INERTMugs, Hope for 22 a Day's sock hop, and the Norse Forged Gathering V, while also taking a moment to remember SGT WarDawg's father-in-law and offer a mental health resource. Overall, listeners can expect another episode filled with the show's characteristic humor, strong language, and diverse discussions. - Hard Of Hearing, Deaf, or Have Other Hearing Issues? READ THE TRANSCRIPT! https://dvradio.net/deaf-and-hard-of-hearing/ - Grab Your DV Radio Ten Year Anniversary Shirts! https://bit.ly/DVR-SreamLabs-Merch  - - Websites Mentioned- -- https://www.norseforgedgathering.com/   Liberty Risk Podcast https://beacons.ai/libertyriskpodcast - Hope For 22 A Day www.HopeFor22ADay.org - INERT Mugs [DV Radio Challenge Coin] www.inertmugs.com - Want To Sponsor DV Radio? No pricing model beats DV Radio when it comes to sponsorship. https://bit.ly/SponsorDVRadio DV Radio on Rumble https://rumble.com/c/DVRadio DV Radio on twitch.tv https://www.twitch.tv/dvradio - INERT Mugs Website: https://www.inertmugs.com/products/20oz-burn-it-down-thermite-tumbler Do you want Betsy Ross's FIGHT? Email chris@affinityinc.tech; first come, first serve! Guests/Hosts: Oink, Joaquin Juatai, Bender, SGT WarDawg, Joel (MBR Radio) and Bo [NOTE: Click these links!] ---------- DV Farm Septic System Fundraiser https://donorbox.org/dv-farm-septic-system ---------- Parental Control Apps https://bit.ly/ChildSafeInternet ---------- Backpacks For Life https://backpacksforlife.org/ ---------- Wah-Tie Woodturning https://wahtiewoodturning.com/ ---------- Affinity Innovations, Inc. https://affinitybsc.com/ ---------- Backpacks For Life Fundraiser https://ko-fi.com/dvradio/goal?g=1 ---------- Edited by Munkee Bawlz Media https://www.munkeebawlzmedia.com/ ---------- Are you a Veteran Owned Business? Have unique, handmade items that we can buy and review on a show? Contact us, show us what you have, and we'll (at least Bo) will spend up to $50 per month and speak openly about your product(s)!! ---------- Find Out More About Betsy Ross At Her Website https://bit.ly/Fight-With-Betsy-Ross ---------- SGT WarDawg http://sgtwardawgtv.fans.link/ ---------- *Got an idea for BARRACKS TALK or any other show? Want to be a guest? Then please feel free to contact us by sending an email to info@dvradio.net, oink@dvradio.net, ptsdog@dvradio.net.* ---------- **LINKS TO CHECK OUT** EVERYTHING DYSFUNCTIONAL VETERANS https://whereisdv.carrd.co  ---------- Grab DV Radio's Battlegrounds From Ubora Coffee At: http://bit.ly/DVR-BattlegroundCoffee  ---------- DV RADIO PARTNERS, SPONSORS, and AFFILIATES https://dvr-listen-support.carrd.co

Oink oink! Lmao wild seeing full grown adults begging but we're here! We had to address the UnheardOf oink runners, give the community a stern talking to for inconsistent behaviors, discuss the idiotcy of wanting IRL shock drops, ponder on how stupid the stockX verifed seller program is, and a food tasting!This week is wild lmao.

Graduation Day.  Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels."You know nothing of what you speak of, Ishara, yet you now feel free to insult us," she simmered."Don't know, don't care. It was all before my time. I care about the 'here-and-now' as well as what we do in the future. What I am asking you is what concrete item or 'thing' can be provided to House Zorja to put this blood feud behind you. Name it and House Ishara will endeavor to procure it for you.""We are not merchants," Jana's eyes narrowed."No. I didn't imply you were. If you want new sandals for everyone in your House, I'll find you new sandals. If you want 100,000 acres of ranchland, I'll find you the land. Name it," I persisted."Our prestige cannot be bought," she 'explained'."No, but a blood feud with House Ishara can be avoided by making a request of us in the same way as expressing your desire to harm my daughter can be expressed by denying my offer," I hardened. "And 'fuck you very much' if you think I won't use every son, daughter, mother, aunt, and uncle of Ishara when I come gunning for House Zorja too.""You wouldn't dare bring outsiders into this," Klavdiya interjected."Why not? The offices of Ishara handed House Zorja the coup of the century ~ the capture of the People's Liberation Army Navy nuclear carrier. A member of House Zorja commanded that task, yet they did so by leading forces marshalled by House Ishara, outsider forces. You may wish to keep playing by old rules concerning who is and isn't part of a House, but I am not so constrained, sisters.""So Klavdiya, if House Meenakshi pursues its blood feud with House Zorja, House Ishara will gleefully join them in the pummeling. And we have Isharans in the 9 Clans, the Khanate and the Illuminati who will gladly help us out in slapping them around like the old-fashion curmudgeons they are showing themselves to be, or, House Zorja may request a gift from House Ishara and we will happily clear accounts between them and House Meenakshi in the name of our daughter, Parvati. Their choice.""You are still on the mats," Elsa reminded me. Sikia coiled protectively next to us."And you said something about a lesson being long overdue," Pamela smirked, "Kitten.""Cáel Ishara," Shawnee said in a soft voice, "perhaps it is germane to the argument: the fault of the blood feud rests with House Zorja, not House Meenakshi."I fell on my back, carrying Tad fi with me. She gasped out in surprise while remaining closely cuddled with me. Her right hand never left my lips."Why does no one tell me this shit?" I moaned."You are hard," Tad fi announced. "Are you ready to have more sex?" She was sounding upbeat about our prospects. She was also ignorant of our surroundings being deaf and blind to the mortal realm."Gossamer Wing," I created a pet name for the augur, "we are lying on the sparring mats of a large combat arena in the central Full-blooded training center for Havenstone with roughly 500 sisters in attendance (the audience had grown). While I am enticed by your scent, words, proximity and sweet memories of what we've shared, I'm probably going to be badly beaten up really soon for a terrific diplomatic snafu.""But then we can have sex?""Yeah. I'm totally up for having sex with you after they release me from Medical," I assured her. I looked around her to a very unhappy Mahdi."Can you find it in your heart to forgive House Zorja? Anything I can,""Yes," she abruptly cut me off.What the fuck?"At this time, my hatred of House Ishara, and you in particular, make any grievance I have with House Zorja pale in comparison. You have bewitched my only daughter. She bares your child, and it will be a wonderful child if the soiled augur you've stuck your cock in is to be believed," she ground out bitterly. "I want to go home. I want to find enemies to kill. And when I do, Cáel Ishara, know each and every one of them will carry your face in my mind."She turned to Jana. "Do you agree that we both hate Ishara enough to put aside our current differences?"Jana studied Mahdi, me, then Mahdi again and agreed. She stood. Mahdi stood. They clasped arms like Amazons, then hugged like sisters."Agreed. He is much worse."My thoughts on the matter. Woot! I was having sex! Oh, and I was making Aya happy by ending a blood feud."My admiration of you continues to increase," Krasimira looked at me. "This diplomacy stuff is harder than it looks yet you pull it off so effortlessly.""Yay me!" I muttered."Keeper, are we done?" Sikia asked Krasimira."I believe so," the older Amazon rose to her feet. Sikia was far faster in rising."Mahdi of Meenakshi, you have insulted me and my augur. Defend yourself," she snarled. If Tad fi hadn't been immediately present, Mahdi wouldn't have even warranted a warning no doubt."Had you done your job," Mahdi flowed into her fighting stance, "you both wouldn't be pregnant.""Whoa now," I struggled to rise while keeping Tad fi close and my body between her and the Meenakshi/Zorja side of the mat. "Sikia, I can't let you fight. You're pregnant too.""Don't be stupid, Cáel Ishara," Sikia retreated off the mat, so she could shed her jacket and footwear. "Amazons have fought pregnant for thousands of years.""Hold on now," NYPD Sgt. Larisa Kutuzov said in English as she moved forward. I was a millisecond too late. Larisa's foot touched down on the mat and Marlene Zorja popped her one, a hand chop to the larynx. The senior cop stumbled forward."Mom!" shouted Nikita. Marlene followed up with a leg sweep, putting Larisa face first on the mats, then a fist strike to the back of the head, knocking her out. Neat and tidy in less than two seconds.Nikita was about to charge in when Chaz stopped her."Footwear," he advised in the tone of voice I had learned to associate with him and imminent violence. The moment he stopped her, he was quickly removing his own socks and shoes. Virginia and Pamela were doing the same. I was allowed freedom of movement because I was holding Tad fi. Krasimira exited because of her unique status. The rest were already barefoot."Gale, could you please stay with Tad fi," I tried to hand her off."No," Gale looked me over. "I will fight." No hint on whose side she would be fighting on. Krasimira came to my rescue."I'll take her.""Tad fi," I told the augur, "I have to go get beaten up now, but I promise I will be back for you directly.""This is not your fight," Krasimira said. "The words and deeds are Sikia's.""A, she carries my child and B, the deeds being called into question are my fault.""You told me once they were the Will of Ishara," Krasimira mused."We are one in the same," I gave a lopsided grin."Be careful," Tad fi pleaded. "Your future is a chaotic jumble, I cannot see,""Eh, I've been very bad. We'll talk about it later. Gotta go," I headed onto the mats.Pamela was giving the ground rules to the 'normals': No 'fair warnings'. No 'fair play'. No 'time outs'. You fought until unconscious, or you surrendered."This is going to suck," Virginia assessed our odds. Two Amazons had removed Larisa from the mats and were tending to her. Nikita was kneeling by her side until she heard Virginia, then came our way.Besides Sikia, we had Pamela, Chaz, Virginia, myself and Nikita. Oneida stepping up was nice. She wasn't a great combatant, but we dearly needed the help. Gale joining us was, unsettling. Amazons don't play fair, so this could be a ruse.Against us were all three Zorja and both Meenakshi ~ I imagined Rhada felt she had something to prove to her mother. They'd picked up ten other Amazons and Rhonwenn Nemain. Klavdiya joined them to counterbalance her baby sister. Eight to seventeen ~ ouch."Damn," a familiar voice from my first days on the job spoke up from behind me, "we almost missed this." I didn't dare look over my shoulder. Desiree stepped between Chaz and Virginia. Rachel came up on my left and Tiger Lily on my right. At the tail end of our line was Mona, Meridian, Brielle and Wiesława. Fifteen to seventeen was looking much better, especially considering Desiree had brought five Security Detail warriors with her, all of whom were moving to further bolster our numbers."Rachel," Elsa looked to her underling, "you have no idea why you are fighting.""It is for Cáel. So it must be for a better tomorrow," Rachel laughed."Very well," Elsa smirked."You!" Mahdi pointed at me, and we both charged. It was a jumbled nightmare of clashing bodies, war cries and flashes of movement all around. Our side had two main advantages -While Chaz was by no means the best hand-to-hand combatant present, he knew the basic Amazon style and most Amazons didn't know his. Added to his overall height and bulk advantages, he bought us time.Of greater importance, Rachel, Tiger Lily and Mona had extensive training working as a team, which none of the opponents had.Elsa was the most dangerous individual on the mat. Pamela was the second most dangerous, so Elsa grabbed a couple of partners and ganged up on her to drive her off the mats. Chaz went next, out-Elsa'ed and beaten unconscious. The issue was, it took her too long to accomplish those two feats. By the time she rounded on me, Rachel and Tiger Lily, our half of the field had wiped out theirs. It was six of us (me, Rachel, Tiger Lily, Gale, Wiesława and Desiree) versus four of them (Elsa, Marlene, Klavdiya and Rhonwenn).Still, I was facing Elsa, so a judicious bit of treachery was required."Gale," I huffed and puffed, "please retire. I don't want you to fight your sister.""What?" Gale snapped. She'd taken a beating, yet remained feisty."No, fighting her sister is okay with me," Desiree scowled. "We are still facing fucking Elsa.""All the other women you have mated with have failed. I remain," Gale trumpeted."Oh, you are right," I half-turned. "All the reason you are more precious to me.""Really?""Of course," I deepened my introspective appreciation of her."Oh," and Klavdiya punched Rhonwenn. That was an 'oh, Cáel Ishara must actually care for my baby sister and not be just a Playa' on Klavdiya's part. Yeah. I'm a horrible fucking person at times.Rachel, Tiger Lily and I rushed Elsa. Marlene pivoted to ward against Klavdiya while Gale and Wiesława stormed in against her. Desiree helped Klavdiya finish drubbing Rhonwenn before they combined to force Marlene off the mats. Elsa chose to go down swinging in a dogpile of bodies. I took an ear-ringing blow to the head which allowed Rachel to apply a chokehold and it was lights out for the Head of SD.After some water bottles went around and those concussed returned to wakefulness, the resolution of the brawl was decided. Mahdi apologized to Sikia. It was short, terse and sparing of any empathy, yet was within the bounds of Amazon etiquette. She departed with Rhada, which left me to pick up the pieces, starting with Nikita's mom."Oh," the older woman moaned then, "Ms. Fredrickson? What are you doing here?""Avenging you, Mother," Nikita fluffed up the truth. "She, Cáel and the others cleaned house on the woman who jumped you and her allies.""Desk Sergeant," Desiree gave a curt nod."This isn't over," Larisa winced as she moved to a sitting position."Mrs. Kutuzov, it is over," I headed off a colossal waste of time. "This is my daily life and part of your daughter's life with JIKIT. You will find scant witnesses and no tape recordings of these events. This craziness is just another day in the life here at Havenstone. You stepped on the mat and thus became fair game to any physical confrontation an opponent cared to mete out. Consider this sovereign soil of an independent nation-state.""We," she looked around. "You kicked their asses?""Definitely," Pamela gave a feral snarl."This is plain nuts," she shook her head, winced in cranial pain, then put her aching head in her hands."One of the reasons we've put our dating in hiatus," Nikita comforted her mother while looking at me, and smiling affectionately.Ah, for fuck sakes! I was engaged to someone else and having a dozen kids by ten different women. How could I still possibly be considered viable dating material? Oh yeah, martial valor, laughing at death, I hung out with truly exceptional cool people and I would always be in need of saving, a plus for a crusader like Nikita.I had so many allies to tend to, but only one who seemed to be making an exit. I swooped down on Tad fi long enough to place her fingers to my lips."I'll be right back, friend of a friend in need," and off I went. I caught Tavi of House Stolgos just outside the door. She wasn't avoiding me. She'd been observing Chaz and he had been otherwise occupied.My British companion had played a pivotal role in the combat and taken his beating like a man. He'd been rendered unconscious. So had many others, so no stigma was attached to his loss. Post-battle, he had chosen to sit on his haunches, knees up, talking to several of the Amazons, both kneeling and standing. A few had been bystanders and a few others foes.He stayed on his ass to reduce his height advantage. Letting Amazons make eye contact while not having to look up at you created definite benefits. His good natured approach to his role in the fight and pummeling earned him positive vibes as well. He made it clear the tussle to him was not macho-personal. He was my 'brother / sister / sibling' spiritually-speaking via Pamela adopting us both as her 'grandsons', so my fights were his fights. Sikia had my (Cáel's) child, so that bond extended to her as well ~ family.Pamela and I had schooled him on Amazon psychology and those lessons were now paying serious dividends. 'The Male' hadn't wanted to fight them ~ 'Amazons are tough' he'd confessed, he knew this because he worked with several every day on JIKIT~ but family was on the line, so he fought. Mahdi had apologized, so the matter was settled. The other Amazons he'd fought? They had fought for their reasons and he was okay with not questioning them about it.Why? He was conscious of his conspicuous status as a 'guest', knew he was in no way an Amazon, and was not privy to what motivated them. He didn't want to be an Amazon. He had his own, much younger, martial tradition he was proud of, yet was eager to learn from the vastly greater Amazon war lore because 'winners' didn't have a gender-bias and no other tradition could compete with the Amazons' 3,000 years.Under normal circumstances, the women around him wouldn't have given credence to his praise. He was a male after all. Through the tiny tear I'd created in their insulating social fabric, Chaz was building upon his own exploits. In the after-battle analysis, the Amazons reflected on the realization Elsa had concentrated on him as her number two objective, second only to Pamela who scared everyone who knew anything about her. That bolstered Chaz's appeal.For the Amazons who thought a male would get all pouty and cry over being beaten up by a girl/girls, Chaz was breaking the mold. He wasn't angry. He was amused. The fight had been a learning experience and he'd felt honored to watch, no matter how briefly, a warrior of Elsa's caliber fight. He'd explained 'I', Cáel Wakko Ishara, considered Elsa one of the top 5 combatants I'd ever seen, which included Ajax the Unconquered. The others were Sakuniyas, reborn Amazon and former Queen of Assyria, Saint Marie, the Golden Mare, and Pamela, the Cliff-walker.More happy Amazons because the list's only non-Amazon was a dead Hero from the Trojan Wars and it was well known I 'got around' (aka dealt with violent outsiders.) Chaz was telling the truth, almost. The 'fifth' person on the list was Alal, but explaining him would be difficult, so Chaz edited him for this particular audience. Good man.In the hallway, "Tavi, a moment," I called out. She slowed down, took a few more steps allowing me to catch up."Yes Ishara?" she gave me her best neutral look. Yep. She was jealous."I beg two favors from you," I quickly went down to one knee in her path. That caught her off guard and left her in the awkward position of me being terribly close and staring up at her."I, I will listen," she muttered."I would like to know if you are pregnant," I asked very softly. Yes, she was, but she didn't want to tell me. She contemplated pushing past me. It would be very easy. "I know I am stepping beyond the boundaries between warriors. Please. My destiny has brought you two together. I am at fault here." 'Fault' was the key word."If I have a son, he will be given to the Queen," Tavi's face was stern and unforgiving. "He will live.""That's not what he's worried about," I shook my head. "He wants to be a father to your daughter, Tavi. He wants to introduce you to his mother and grandmothers, maybe his sisters too, if that can be arranged.""Huh?""He is not like me, Tavi. There is no other in his life, but you.""I, I will not leave my House for him," she protested angrily."He would never ask you. That doesn't mean he doesn't want to remain at your side for years to come. He can be a father to your child and not be a part of House Stolgos in the same way you can be a mother to your child and not be a part of Clan Tomorrow.""Oh," she furrowed her brow. "How would this possibly work?""I have an 'in' with the Queen," I winked. "I'll work out something.""He knows I will never stop being an Amazon," she elucidated intensely."Absolutely. He is an intelligence operative after all. He's figured a few things out for himself.""Why doesn't he tell me these things?""Tavi, he threw his body on top of me to shield me from a bomb blast, so he's undoubtedly brave, but telling you what is in his heart is scary for him. As his brother, I see behind his silence,""Oh, what should I do?" she was vexed."Go back in there, demand to speak with him and tell him the truth," I stood up."The truth?""That you are going to have a little StolgosTomorrow-ite running around sometime next year," I exuded confidential friendliness."Cáel Ishara," she tilted her head slightly, "you don't know much about infants, do you?""Nope," I pseudo-confessed. I actually did know something about newborns. I'd studied up so I could make a move on a cute girl whose free time was eaten up by babysitting, so I 'helped out'. Oink."They aren't 'running around'," she turned to head back into the gym, "until the ninth month at the earliest. Normally, running doesn't happen until the eighteenth month.""My fiancée has a three-year old, so she should be able to help me through some of the hardest parts," I babbled along. Tavi didn't give a crap.In we went. Tavi stormed straight toward the bevy of Amazon babes concentrating on 'her' Chaz."Color Sergeant Tomorrow," she abruptly interrupted. "A moment of your time.""Ladies," Chaz uncoiled himself from the surrounding women. The Amazons were either mildly put off, they thought they were about to get laid, or pissed off, they were sure they were about to get laid, and Tavi was stomping on their happy."Yes, Ms. Gentry," Chaz linked his hands behind his back in a 'rest easy' stance. 'Gentry' was the fake last name Tavi used in the outside world. She motioned toward the windows with her head. Off they went. I couldn't hear what was being said, but my lip reading skills were up to the task.T: (I am pregnant)C: (I love you)T: (Oh) ~ stunned. Go Chaz!C: (Well, I don't imagine the Amazons have a marriage ceremony and an Anglican service would be inappropriate, so perhaps we could research a Scythian ritual which could make both families happy) ~ delivered in the patented smooth Chaz style.T: (Marriage? To you?)C: (I will not submit to being anyone's slave nor would I ever ask you to submit to me. Outside of that, will you be my partner and my partner alone until the cliffs separate us?)T: (Amazons are not monogamous)C: (I am)T: (I will, I mean, can I think about this?)C: (I am not going anywhere, Tavi){Pause}T: (Did you put Ishara, Cáel Ishara up to this?)C: (Yes)T: (Why?)C: (I imagine he explained what I am feeling better than I could)T: (Oh, do you want me to meet your mother and grandmothers?)C: (Absolutely)T: (Okay)C: (Okay ~ you would like to meet my Mother and Grandmothers?)T: (No, yes, I mean, yes I would like to meet them and I am okay with you being with no other woman until the cliffs separate us, and I will do the same, no other males)C: (If I pick you up, hug you and kiss you, will your sisters freak out?)T: (I don't know)So Chaz swept Tavi up until her head was higher than his (a feat, considering their 8" height differential) and kissed her deeply. Mumbled words followed. Tavi wrapped her legs around Chaz's waist and out they went. Around me were angry murmurings of the 'did that Amazon just run off with our man' variety. Not my problem. I had plenty of different Amazons wanting my attention. Hallelujah!{8:00 pmDon't try this at home.I covered my face with a pillow and pressed down hard. I'd already tried breathing exercises, meditation and even contemplated more cranial trauma before thinking up this particular crazy idea. It took some mental effort and accessing some of my Alal-'pain sorting' skills to accomplish, but in the end, I felt myself 'let go'.I sat up."Hello," Tad fi beamed."Hey," I took a deep breath. Since we were talking, I must have passed out. Her eyes wandered over the room."Is this the world as you see it?" she wondered. Oh yeah, I had to be creating the environment for her to enjoy.Sikia was kneeling on the bed a foot away, her gaze moving between the two of us. The 'grayness' of her form suggested she was wholly in reality and not in the 'Ishara-space' the goddess had shown me and I was now sharing with my augur."This is how you see me?" she examined her fingers, her wrists, then some long locks of her hair."You are more beautiful," I answered. The impact of my words crossing over drew her eyes back to me. It was the magic of hearing for the normally deaf girl. I concentrated, peeled back some fantasy and attached a realistic form to Sikia. Tad fi followed my gaze."Your hair," she addressed her guardian, "It is lighter than I imagined."Sikia said something I couldn't understand, muffled as it was by my dreaming."I cannot hear you, but I see you through his eyes," the augur carried on her conversation. They touched. It had to be somewhat bizarre for Sikia. As she reached for Tad fi's hand, her friend intercepted the extended member. Their fingers intertwined before completing the journey to the guardian's lips."Don't cry, no, we couldn't have, no, we shouldn't have knocked him out sooner. I don't think he was aware of this discipline when we first met. Were you, Cáel?""No. Perhaps if I had understood more about the consequences of seeing ghosts, I might have," I tapered off. "Now that we know. I can try this more often.""Your health?" Tad fi worried."I might be immortal," I confessed. I was confessing because I was desperately seeking a way to share some of my genetic quirkiness with her ~ some strength to carry her through this pregnancy and spare her life, Dot Ishara be damned."And you would seek a way to spare me," she graced me with her gentle presence. Lying in the 'spirit' world was a whole lot tougher than in the flesh."Yeah. I've got some arcane lore rattling around in my head, plus I have a few outside sources I can ask for help. I'm not giving up on you.""I have foreseen my death.""Well, un-foresee it," I scolded her. "Dot Ishara told me we see what might happen, though nothing is guaranteed. So even your death isn't an absolute. Since it hasn't happened, I see no reason to let it happen. You are going to live to hold our daughter. If not, my immortality is worthless.""You can never save everyone. Sometimes you must let a few go to save the rest," she advised."If I find someone I'm not attached to, I'll let them go. I promise. Until then, I'm, ugh, I'm fading, and I'm keeping you.""We shall see," she murmured. I fell back into my body and into wakefulness."Now we have sex," Tad fi announced in a melodic voice."He is ready to perform," Sikia agreed. She was fondling my balls with one hand while her breath played across my rod. I sat up to see the augur climbing up the bed between my thighs. She kissed my glans, licked across its top, then kissed it again."I've got it from here," she told Sikia."What?" Sikia was confused. Tad fi's lips began to engulf my sceptre."Sikia, come here," I gently pulled on her arm. She was conflicted yet up some came.We started out with tender kisses on the lips. I kept drawing her toward me. My lips and tongue migrated down her chin and throat to her breasts. When she thought my target was her breasts, she was all onboard. That was a mere stop-off point on my journey, though I played around for a while.At the same time, I had to use subtle movements with my hips and clenches with my gluts to school Tad fi on her fellatio. Thankfully, I was doubly-blessed. This wasn't my first time schooling two girls at once and Tad fi could determine more from such minimal reactions due to her heightened sense of my muscle contractions through her touch than any other woman I'd ever met.When I began running my tongue in large lashes underneath her breasts, I confused Sikia once more. She was resistant as my hands on her hips pulled her higher so that my lips and teeth could tease her taut stomach while I twirled my tongue in her belly button. She giggled.I had been slowly wiggling down the bed, backing Tad fi up, so when it came time to mount Sikia on my face, I had the headboard room. I kept her muscular thighs securely in hand because the moment I had her happy, I pushed her up. She looked down, seeking guidance and I motioned her to turn around. She did the eye-ball math, realized she'd be facing her augur, and hastily obeyed. Of course, her movement on the bed alerted Tad fi through mattress vibrations.Sikia was sitting on my face, leaning down so she could run her hands through Tad fi's hair and along her face and lips (and my phallus). I kept my hands pressed between our bodies. My right made the sojourn to my pubic area to play around and give them both something else to suck on, my fingers. My left loitered around between Sikia's breasts and her clitoris when my lips were otherwise occupied.I could cup her clit with my tongue in a U-shape, rubbing it along my taste buds. Most of my time was taken up with my tongue broad lashing her vulva or tightly-twisted and delving into her cunt and my nose pushing against her brown hole. I could tilt myself up so I could make tongue-intrusions into her back passage as well. The first time, she squealed.Before she could decide if she wanted to make me stop (she did, virtually all first timers always default to asking their partner to stop, so you have to distract them), Tad fi wanted to know what had brought her reaction on. Then came Sikia's troubled revelation of what I was doing, how the augur shouldn't suffer through it, despite the increasing pleasure she was receiving, only to finally be unable to supply the answer as to why Tad fi shouldn't experience it too.Sikia shot me a treasured look of bewilderment. I'd brought her to orgasm with my tongue alone. I was a guy after all."Switch?" I suggested. Tad fi was still administering one of the slowest, most considerate blowjobs I'd ever experienced. She wasn't rushing toward anything. Sure, she was unschooled, but was devoting her incredible sensitivities to my pleasure and taking pleasure in her ability to bring me to such excitement."Change places?" she mused. "Okay." Tad fi's lips slid off me with one final, loud 'pop', then she used her spider-like fingers to climb up my body while Sikia traveled south. She lavished butterfly kisses on my face ~ childish, yet so very appropriate between us ~ and I mirrored the gesture.With some reluctance, she mounted me, facing Sikia. My tongue flicking across her clit on its first exploration brought out a joyous gasp. It only got better from there.The Long Slide Into Domestic Life:"Twins?" Hana snuggled into my arms. We were at her place, naked in bed together after a late late-night unscheduled meeting with some VIPs. Despite the late/early hour, she was alert, tense even. It had been a mentally stimulating late night encounter which had brought me to her bed."Yes. That is what Tad fi predicted," I inserted between raining kisses down on her forehead. Hana liked non-distracting attention when she was in this kind of mood. She was exhausting herself mentally as she was building up to being amorous."Ana-Călina and  rp d?" she worked over the names on her tongue. "They have a special meaning?""Only if you are Hungarian and Romanian," I teased her. She elbowed me slightly. " rp d was the semi-mystical pagan warlord who led the Ten Tribes who became known as the Hungarians ~ the Magyar peoples ~ into the Carpathian Basin, present day Hungary. Ana-Călina was born a Byzantine princess of the storied House of Basarab; she married Radu Negru, thus becoming the first Princess of a free Wallachia ~ the foundation for a free Romania. She was also the great-grandmother of Dracula.""So they are famous names with regional historical significance, did they live long, happy lives?"" Árpád, no one knows for sure. His kids were quarrelsome, but they did manage to found a dynasty at the start of the second millennia which ruled for three centuries.""Ana-Călina, yeah. I think so," I continued. "She lived into her seventies and her eldest son left his country stronger, richer and safer than when he received it. She did out live her husband by over fifty years, and got to see her youngest grandson bury most of his rivals, the kids from her husband's first marriage.""Ah, what?" Hana rose up until we were eye to eye. Since she was naked, her boobs swayed slightly as she did so. My eye flickered. "Eyes forward, Mister," she playfully barked. "What happened to all her other grandsons?""Wallachia in the 15th century was a tad rough and tumble," I evaded."They killed one another?""Mostly they were killed by conspiracies amongst their boyars, nobles of the time.""Why does, Tad fi want to dredge up these names again?" she kept eye contact."Not a clue," I pleaded."But you think it is important?""No. I think you are important. Screw Fate. It can name its own kids. We can chose whatever names make you happy, except 'Up'. Up's been taken.""You've named another of your offspring 'Up'? That's cruel, or does that mean something in another language I'm unaware of?" she shifted her shoulders so her boobs wobbled again. Of course, I broke eye contact. I hadn't had sex in hours and her boobies were right there, damn it!"Actually, Pamela and I named this secret agent in Hungary that, just to fuck with his head," I divulged."Oh. Pamela. I should have known," she slowly smiled. "You are being very well behaved," she added. Woot! She noticed I wasn't throwing her down and pawing her delectable flesh. "One more thing before the nookie.""Name them. Their dead," I pledged."Not necessary," her sigh turned into a giggle. "If I'm going to be having twins, I'm going to be rather big come late March. We need an earlier wedding date."Oh, fuck me!"What do you have in mind?" I tried to keep the creeping dread out of my voice."New Year's Day?" she suggested. I did a quick calculation. That was annihilating 78 days out of what remained of my bachelor life. In 114 days my life would cease having any meaning whatsoever. I'd be a Mr. to someone's Mrs. The end"Sure, I can arrange to be killed before then," stumbled out of my mouth."What was that?" Hana pouted."Nothing Dear. Cosmic psychic intersection with an Al -demon; don't know what came over me," I fibbed."Man up," Hana bit my nose. "Our marriage won't be that bad if we both work at it. It isn't like I'm demanding celibacy from you." Then she mouthed 'yet'."Wait. Did you mean celibacy, as in no fun at all, or monogamy, as in only 'happy time' with you?" I desperately sought clarification."Oh," she pursed her lips. "I meant monogamy. I didn't mean to scare you.""Oh, thank goodness," I sighed."Here," her gaze turned tender. "Let me make it up to you." Hana placed one hand on my shoulder and rose up my body until my face was gently nestled in her bosom. Then she wiggled back and forth, basically because I'm a big baby and easy to please. I was alternating which nipple I was kissing in no time."Mmm," she murmured. "I've missed you." Her other hand's fingernails coasted down my abdomen and found 'Mr. Happy' had risen to attention. Okay, he'd been hopping up and down on my groin since she'd said we were 'going to bed' 30 minutes ago. Hana decided wrap up my shaft with her hand, then applied a few tender strokes. I reciprocated by cupping her left tit in one hand, forming a mound with her areola at the center, and began to twirl from the outside inward to her hardened nipple with just the tip of my tongue.It was 4 a.m. Why was I taking it slow when I had my final work review with Katrina in three hours? Hana deserved this and more. Why was Hana doing it? She was her own boss, plus her life was careening wildly outside of anything she'd imagined before she'd first laid eyes on me. Half of the financial empire she shared with her father was suddenly in the hands of a military dictatorship, her beloved father was dealing with the murder of her hated step-brother and she was marrying a Prince in a European cathedral which required someone high in the Vatican's approval process to use.Yeah, her life had gone nuts. Worse, she loved me. And I wasn't the kind of man she ever thought she'd love. She'd thought she'd never love anyone again after her life with her asshole of an ex-husband and their bitter, contentious divorce. I was barely someone she could classify, and Hana was a terribly ordered and organized person. Saying my life was messy was being generous. I was some mysterious warrior-diplomat-playboy-aristocrat who hung out with people more bizarre than me.Hana picked up her tempo. I switched breasts. Her motor was really starting to hum. Any other night, I could have moved straight to revving her up to an orgasm. I had the time to make it two without any problems. A good one and Hana would be happy and drift off to sleep. Instead, I intuited she wanted more, so we developed our own game of cat and mouse with her climax, and its suspension, being our ultimate goal.My left hand danced down the back of her ribcage like playing keys on a piano. It was a light, teasing gesture. Her hair the color of tarnished gold cascaded down as she began placing her own kisses upon my crown. Each move by one partner evoked a response by the other. Hana ran my glans over her glistening labia, getting it nice and slick. I worked down her waist, cupped her ass, and then glided over her thigh to the back of her knee where I started tickling her. She snickered."You are distracting me," she murmured. I wasn't. I knew these things."I like to get the feel of every inch of your flesh," I responded. More mirthful noises from her. Slowly, her gooey vestibule rubbed against and over the top, until I felt myself entering. There, she hesitated. I propelled my hips an inch up, twisted right then left before falling back down, a micro-fuck."Ah," she emoted her approval. "My turn." Hana's knees spread to the side, making a memorable sound on the silk sheets as she impaled herself. This time she rolled her hips forward, back, then did a slow 360 with me  inside her, letting the slow progress over her spark memories for her to savor. "I never believed sex could be like this," Hana hiccupped."How so?" I knew the answer, but wanted her to put her chaotic passions to words. It would make her happier."Experimenting, silly. Stopping in the middle and doing, this," she reversed her hip rotations this time. "I never imagined a lover having such patience, or,""Yourself as being so openly sexually adventurous?" I finished."Yeah," she huffed. "I really, really owe your college professor, plus you and all your diligence, for this," at the last moment, she encountered the gateway to her G-spot. I knew precisely where that gem was. Previously, Hana had gained a vague idea where it was from the perspective of masturbation and our prior lovemaking. Now I had let Hana rediscover that joy with my cock as her tool to utilize as she wished."You realize pregnant women want even more sex," she hummed. She was vigorously working my cock now. Hana had bridged a huge gap, sexually. Normally, a woman of Hana's quality tried to please her man first with the hope her orgasm would soon follow. I was different. My greatest sexual gratification came from her ecstasy. She was confident in that now. By bringing herself to climax, she was making me excited for what would come next."That's okay," I propped myself up on one elbow now that Hana was riding me cowgirl-style. "I dig big chicks." The open-palm slap to the chest was a given."Hercege, you, you are horrible," she growled around a feral smile. The lip-biting, tongue-sucking kiss was equally vicious, primal and leading Hana to the end of her tether. Not only was Hana's sexual trust in me/us expanding, she was putting extra effort into her physical workout regime too. She might still have a ways to go to compete with an Amazon, but it was still going to be a great night."Hercegn , I am nothing but a twisted shadow of masculine lust whose every contour is cast by your muliebrous glow," I teased. Her eyes twinkled. Yes, definitely still going to be a great night."Okay," Hana yawned, "I give up. What does 'muliebrous' mean?" She'd been holding on to that for an hour and a half. It was five-thirty and I was dressing in my biking clothes before heading into work."From the Latin 'muliebri' which means 'womanly'," I answered. Her sleepy eyes drank in both my response and my physique. I had discovered another thing Hana liked and that was to expand her academic/linguistic frontiers. She was enchanted with the idea that I liked to engage her mind along with her body, sparking on all cylinders.She'd crawled over to my side of the bed, her head resting on my pillow, soaking up my scent as she watched me. I knelt down, kissed her on her ear, cheek and finally the side of her lips. Hana was beat."Have a good day and be careful," she mumbled. Her eyes closed. Her chest rose with one last, waking breath before her sleep rhythms took her."Ditto," I whispered. I snuck into  Annela's room and planted a kiss on her head as well. The craziness of my life had a way of cascading over to the ones I loved. Loved? Oh boy,7:00 am Monday, September 8th, Graduation Day!Brielle and her buddy were humming along as the elevator doors closed. Once more, my 'hellish' schedule demanded I change in the elevator. I'd gone to gun practice with my bike clothes on, so I absolutely had to change into business attire in the magic box, in front of them.Juanita adjusting my tie was a less than subtle attempt to strangle me. I was about to be late to my final 'start of day' meeting as an intern in Executive Services, so her chastisement would have to wait. Who would have thunk it? Juanita would have to wait outside for this ceremony. Paula raced with me to be the last one in, only to have Daphne grace us with the 'news':"The meeting won't start for another fifteen minutes," she grinned. "Katrina is bringing up the 'new hires' for the fall program."I finger-flicked my head. The 84 days as an intern was merely the 'training wheels' period. To really be a member of ES was at least a two year training process. The Amazons around me had started their training for this gig when they were fifteen and were eighteen and nineteen now, their ID's said they were older for legal purposes.In theory, my four years in college was counted as 'preliminary' training and provided things such as acclimation to outsider culture ~ aka 'acting normal'. Logically, I would train under someone like Desiree or Buffy for a year before being a full-fledged member of the service."How many this time?" I asked Daphne since she seemed to be in the know."Twenty," she grinned. "We are getting two."I noticed there was still only my tiny desk in Katrina's office. That meant the new guys would be out in the office pool with everyone else. Probably for the best. The ladies were now used to having a male around, so would be careful in what they did and didn't say. I yawned."Tired," Fabiola smirked."Oh yeah," I stifled another yawn. "Met an emissary from the Pope." Fabiola glowered. "No. Seriously. I met an emissary from Holy See. I let Hana know I wanted to get married in a highly improbable place, a ruined cathedral, so she contacted the Catholic Church and one of their guys wanted to meet with me.""That had to be fun," Tigger grinned. "What does the Cult of the Nazarene think of you and the Goddess Ishara?""We actually discussed polytheism and the place of an omnipotent, omnipresent being in the scope of things," I placed my hands behind my back and rocked back and forth. "It was quite interesting. The guy knew his shit."By that, I meant he was probably with the Pope's Secret Service as well as a Brainiac with a PhD in something. He'd promised to be in touch as soon as he heard back from his superiors. He had this hot chick with him who I suspected was a nun. And if his driver wasn't ex-military, it was because he was still in the service. On the plus side, Hana had been beaming when we left, which assured me the meeting had gone well, so we had sex from 4 AM until 5:30, thus my current fatigued state."Are you going to abandon your faith?" Fabiola taunted me."I don't have faith, Fabiola of Minerva. Faith would imply I don't know there are supernatural entities screwing with our lives. I know they do exist, I've met a few. To satisfy your disingenuous curiosity, we discussed the nature of the Weave and it being the possible manifestation of God's Will.""How did that go?" Paula appeared interested."He strongly suggested I should 'revisit my Catholic roots' soon. By that, I think he meant I'm supposed to start attending church regularly," I shrugged. "The Pope is sending an envoy to the Great Khan too, so odds are good I'm getting married," I pronounced the last bit as the doom-laden prediction it was."Oh, yes," Fabiola reached passed Paula and smacked me in the chest with the back of her hand. "That is for insinuating you and I had intercourse to my Mother and the Council.""Was that chastising me for lying, or for not making it so?" I winked."Ah, no!" she pouted. "Stop lying about me."I looked down at my phone."We've got twelve minutes," I double-pumped my eyebrows. "Want to go to Katrina's bathroom?""What! No!" Fabiola

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Tadifi's legendBook 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Meanwhile, Elsa was quietly amused. It wasn't like I could request the SD to force my House Guard to not do something they had been told to do by someone in my hierarchy. That would lead to chaos, and it was unfair to Juanita."Fine," I decided. "Get us three some water. Elsa and I will be practicing."Now Juanita was stuck. I wasn't asking her to leave the room, just leave me alone. I was technically her leader, respect notwithstanding."It is good to see you have not become drunk with power," Elsa smirked once Juanita had left on her errand."Your mockery is unappreciated," I glared back. I was only kidding. "I haven't seen you around recently. It is good to see you.""It is good to see you too," Elsa said in a voice far softer and compassionate than I would have preferred. After all, she had me drugged, beaten, then beaten me up again in the not so distant past.Of course, I had also sexed her up, bringing her to orgasm with my fingers alone. We had also exchanged a burning French kiss in Katrina's office that Buffy was aware of. Then there was the Buffy-Elsa personal feud and the Elsa-Rhada family feud. Balancing that was Elsa's super-hot body and intriguing personality. Sex with her promised to be memorable, more memorable than normal."What have you been up to? I'd like to say I've been behaving myself, but I don't want to advance our relationship by lying (right now, about this).""You are largely responsible for what I've been up to the past two weeks," she stepped back. She tossed her spear aside and entered her fighting stance. How nice of her to warn me, and get rid of her weapon. How erotically odd of her to give me the illusion of a chance."I deny everything," I rocked back. She was blindingly fast. The fact that I was able to block most of the blow was a testament to how much I had learned in the past two and a half months."Watashi wa nihongo o hanashimasu', 'Wǒ shuō pǔtōnghu ', 'Wǒ shuō guǎngdōng hu ' and 'Aku isa basa jawa'," she lectured me as she maneuvered me into a corner with a series of kicks and feints. She spoke Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese and Javanese. That was nice to know."Wait," then she kicked me off the mat."Amazons don't have a 'time out'," she smiled. I cautiously worked my way back onto the practice area."What part did you play?" I readied myself. This time, I went on the offensive. I used my greater strength and reach to compensate (rather poorly) for her superior reflexes."Someone had to ride herd on those disparate forces. My status was respected by the Amazons, I had experience dealing with outsiders, plus your person Addison nominated me, and Katrina suggested that you and I were close. That was enough for the Khanate. Your embassy and earlier aid to the Seven Families brought the 9 Clans along.""And you stole the carrier?""It was an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to humiliate the Seven Pillars," she grinned. "Riding in a nuclear submarine was interesting, right up there with running around, spray painting translations next to all the markings onboard the captured vessel. Herding regular civilians wasn't nearly as much fun.""In the annals of the SD, that is going to be a victory hard to surpass," I got out right before my legs were swept out from under me. Before I could roll over, she landed on top of me. She didn't go for a pin. Elsa simply sat there, straddling my hips and looking down at me. We were both breathing heavily."I owe you for that," she patted me on my bare chest."Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?""I'll let you figure that out during the Great Hunt," she gave a sliver of a smile."Not you too," I groaned."Who else are you worried about?""You and twenty-nine other Amazons. By name, Rachel. She's pretty upbeat about her chances and believes she has a score to settle.""Rachel will be a tough one," Elsa acknowledged."Comfortable?" Juanita muttered."Yes, I am," Elsa grinned her way. "Thank you for asking." Juanita gave me a look that suggested I do something like protest, or actually try to fight her off."Why are you being nice to me?" I wondered."I've learned to appreciate your numerous qualities," Elsa enlightened me. "I am also honest enough to admit I was completely wrong about you. You make a good Amazon." That was huge praise indeed and more importantly, it was to a public audience. I was double fortunate that no one was close enough to see Elsa's camel toe resting against my lightly covered hard-on."Thank you. Is there anything I can do for you?""Aren't you engaged to someone?" Juanita reminded me. What she was really saying was 'don't you know you belong to the maidens of House Ishara?' Trust me, I know these things. Had she meant Hana, she would have said Hana."She has the patience of Job," I reasoned. "Oh, Elsa, Job is a figure in the Old Testament of the Bible." I doubted she knew."Oh. Is he a bloody-handed butcher, raging misogynist, or one of those pacifistic wimps?""He's a nice guy who gets swallowed by a whale.""That's Jonah," Juanita corrected me. "Job is the one who was tested by God. Job accepted God taking away all his family, wealth and health, only to be rewarded for his loyalty to God with more than he ever had before.""Wimp.""I would never turn away from Ishara," Juanita rumbled."Zorja would never feel the need to test my loyalty so," Elsa riposted."Oh look," I thrust my hips up. "I seem to need a shower." Elsa's expression was of superiority and lust combined into a lethal cocktail of my demise."Let's go. You can wash my back," she said as she rose over me. She even offered me a hand up. That was unexpected and accepted warily."Is there some battle wound that makes you incapable of bathing yourself?" Juanita got feisty. Holy Hell, she was my Caribbean Buffy-twin."None," Elsa smugly commented. "I like the feel of his hands on my body. He possesses non-threatening masculinity wed with sisterly solidarity. It is a unique experience that you seem woefully unaware of.""Yippee!" I whispered."You really are a man-whore," Juanita declared under her breath."Check," I gave her a thumbs-up. Sadly, Elsa gave me enough respect to walk at my side, not in front of me (so I could have been mesmerized by her buttocks.) As I was stripping down in the locker room, I noticed Juanita hovering close by. "Are you going to follow me into the shower?""Yes.""Why? I am not going to be in danger in the middle of Havenstone.""I'll be the judge of that," she insisted."You do realize I've had sex with an audience before, don't you?""I've been warned about that and know proper counter-measures.""What? What kind of measures?" I was now naked and, towel in hand, was making my way to the communal showers."Charlie horses, trips, stun-gun if applicable," she informed me with relish."You are threatening to damage my prestige," I enlightened her."Cáel, I was chosen for more than my martial skills. I was selected because I will not wilt before your childish ways.""Are you a lesbian?""No. Why would a woman have to be a lesbian to withstand your wiles?""You'll figure it out eventually," I chuckled. Actually, knowing what a playboy-cad I was turned out to be a counter-intuitive edge for me. Expecting me to be a letch just meant I totally ignored the woman. Then the doubt would set in. 'Why wasn't I hitting on her?' she would think. She'd go through the phase of her not being good enough for me to knowing that wasn't the case, definitely, and would come at me to prove herself right. Wham-bam, another one in the can. Oink.Step One: reduce the amount of time talking to her as a fellow human traveler of life. From here on out, I would address her by her name when I wanted something and otherwise treat her like furniture ~ furniture I was comfortable with. In this case, I treated her like a towel rack. She promptly dropped it. That was okay, I was planning to get dressed wet anyway.I rinsed off my hair quickly as Elsa settled underneath the showerhead beside me. As soon as I finished, she handled me a bottle of (scentless) body soap. It was probably one of those the jaguar will smell me coming ten miles away excuses Amazons used to avoid being girlie. I got my hands all sudsy and began working on her shoulders and neck from behind.Wordlessly, Elsa followed my physical directions, allowing me to wash her arms before working my way down her back in languid, amorous circles. Around the 10th thoracic vertebrae, Elsa gave me a deep, cleansing exhalation. I dug my fingers into her taut back muscles, racking them down to her buttocks, deftly ran them along the sides of her glutes and finished up caressing them along the line between her thighs and ass.I worked her buttocks apart, worked my fingers along her perineum, tickling the back of her labia then up, across her anus and back to her tailbone and the small of her back. A crazy idea came to me: maybe I could talk her into a tramp stamp; something like If you are reading this, know I'll kill you next. That would be so Elsa.I lathered her ass up for another half-minute before working my way down to her thighs, starting with the hip joints and then coaxing of her parted lips. I knelt down so that I was resting on the balls of my feet. Elsa obliged me by parting her legs, standing on her toes with her feet over a foot apart, then placing her hands against the shower stall while arching her back so that her hips were thrust back."Oh, come on," Juanita protested. "What kind of bath is this?""Did you hear something?" Elsa looked down at me."Nope. I was focusing all of my attention on you," I smiled up at her. I was really liking the way her muscles were stressed through her exertions. I couldn't seem to pay enough attention to her robust calves. I didn't pass up the opportunity to plant gentle kisses on each cheek either.Elsa's ankles and feet happened all too fast and the pretense of a bath was complete. She looked at me while she soaped up her breasts then let the water cascade all over her body."Thank you, Cáel," she gave me a regal nod of her damp head, turned and left. "Train harder for the Hunt. You are going to need every edge you can get.""I'm stalking oysters over the weekend. They are cunning and stealthy adversaries," I replied sagely. Elsa snorted, then started toweling off as she left, going toward her own locker. I walked past my soaked towel on the floor without a single glance. Juanita stalked behind me, clearly with a lot on her mind she was now waiting for the proper moment to share. I got dressed."Not going to dry off?" she grumbled."I never use towels," I lied. "I like the rain-washed feel." By ignoring her act of defiance, I really steamed her. I wasn't done. As we headed toward the elevator, I opened up with my next jibe. Buffy really shouldn't challenge me so. I'm a past-master of dealing with clingy, bossy women."Regretting you made that bet?" I mused while we waited."What bet?" she simmered."The bet where you assured Buffy and whomever else was in the room that you wouldn't break down and physically harm me ~ punishing me for my wicked ways?""What? How did," she groused then, "You are playing me.""Yep.""You really are full of yourself," she seared me with her gaze."No, but I know what I'm good at and I'm good at frustrating women. I've been working at it for the past four years and I've got over 200 women who would agree that I'm very good at doing it.""Why are you doing this to me? I'm on your side," she turned all pouty and hurtful."Because if I don't, I'll go mad, Juanita," I enlightened her. "You want to protect me, right?""Yes," she sensed a verbal trap. The elevator opened and we stepped in."See, I don't want to be protected," I started."That's,""Let me finish, please," I stopped her. She gave me the visual 'go-ahead'. "I don't want to live a life where I need to be protected. I don't want to worry that women I hang out with could be cornered by some unsavory types at an eatery because those women happen to know and like me.""I admire what you are doing, I really do. This is not the life I wanted, though. This is not what I wanted to be doing four months after leaving college. I wanted to be some corporate worm, barely scraping by on my work reviews and being, as you said, 'a man-whore'.""You don't have that luxury," she pointed out."Am I not doing my job?" I countered."I guess you are," she grudgingly admitted."Yet you feel you have the right to critique my personal life and how I approach it," I related. "I'm not beating you up by playing the I am Ishara bullshit. I certainly don't expect anyone to be grateful to me for the opportunity to be in a House. I don't because I believe that every member of House Ishara has already proven they belong here before I ever meet them. I believe in you. Sometimes I would appreciate it if my sisters would give me the same respect."She looked away because my harpoon had struck home."Unlike the rest of you, I inherited my place in this madhouse. Unlike every other Amazon here, I am only a part of House Ishara because I am the choice of a thousand ancestors to be our leader. Notice that no one asked me if I wanted to do this. And I don't think I ask too much of you because frankly, there are times when I feel unworthy to be in your company.""You are still Ishara and I must still be your guardian," she held her ground. I glared at her. She glared back. I coughed. She kept glaring."What's my name?""Oh," she shrugged. "Cáel Wakko Ishara.""That may sound silly you to, but I have chosen the designations for myself, my First Ancestor and the Goddess for a good reason."We rode in silence. When we got to the ground floor, we made our way to our bikes and got ready to head home."What is the reason?""To never take ourselves too seriously. The worst thing I can think to befall my House is we become as humorless as the rest of the bitches around here. 'Laugh at Death' should be our motto.""Isn't that a bit childish?""Of course it is," I groaned. "You clearly haven't been paying attention to a damn thing I've been saying. I swear I'm thinking about bringing back 'National Clown Nose Day'.""We had a 'National Clown Nose Day'?" she pedaled to keep up."God help me," I muttered.(Where is my Serge?)"You are not going to let me go through my door first?" I sighed in exasperation. Juanita insisted that she go through every door first, because today was so very different than yesterday, when I had Pamela, perhaps I protest too much."You have a gun," a somewhat familiar voice said from inside my/Timothy's apartment. Oh, fuck. Ya know, because Juanita was as pretty as she was lethal, which is to say 'too much for the given company'."Don't make any sudden moves unless you want to see it," Juanita cautioned her."Oh, it's okay," Odette intervened. "This is Anais Saint-Armour. She's a Mountie.""Oh, she's on the List too," Juanita grumbled. "What has he done wrong this time?""Why don't you tell me who you are first?" Anais growled at Juanita while I pushed my way into the room."I don't like your attitude," Juanita glared."Anais, this is Juanita Leya Antonio Garza; she's my latest bodyguard. Juanita, this is Anais, a good friend of mine who helped save my life in Hungary when the 'terrorists' were closing in," I somewhat exaggerated,, she had helped me catch up with the rest of the team when Pamela and I got sidetracked."Why did he chose you?" Anais fumed. Did I mention she's insanely jealous with an aching need to know why I was marrying anyone else, but her."What list?" Odette proved to be on the ball."He didn't chose me. I volunteered for the spot.""Buffy made an anti-girlfriend list. Elsa is on it too," I mumbled."I bet you did," Anais (responding to Juanita)."It is not like that," I moved to interpose myself between my Mountie and my non-mounted (for now) guardian. "I'm on the board of directors for Havenstone now and,""How did that happen?" Anais turned 'The Force' on me. (That's Canadian for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, really) "You insisted (reference back in the days we were seeing one another) you were impoverished.""I inherited it from my Father,""He's poor too. I ran a background check when we first started dating," Anais kept up the pressure."My Mother?""She's dead.""Okay, it was my Father through a convoluted meandering of genetics," I went back to attempting the truth (shame on me)."Which is it?" she glowered."My Father, but it's too complicated to get into now," I tried to touch her. She recoiled. She was still pissed with me."He's telling the truth this time," Odette rose to my defense."Why didn't you tell me this when you were in Hungary? For that matter, if you are rich, why didn't you use those resources to get yourself out of trouble instead of involving me?" She really was a great cop."I had to make a call to someone I trusted and who couldn't be traced back to me, or Havenstone, or the Irish Embassy," I fibbed."What have you gotten yourself into?" Anais thawed somewhat."I believe I promised you dinner," I reminded her."You did.""Where are we going?" Juanita stressed our lack of privacy."'We' aren't going anywhere. Ms. Anais Saint-Armour and I are going to a restaurant of her choosing. Don't worry about it. She carries a gun.""I'm not carrying a gun," Anais torpedoed my plan."Where are we going?" Juanita repeated herself. I had to switch mental gears quickly to take in the new looks I was getting from Anais. I shouldn't have ignored those cues."I can't get around my personal security service," I sighed. Why did I give in? Anais was all about gathering evidence and then drawing conclusions from the facts in available.I had been involved in some significant bad-assery in Europe that was way beyond anything she would have associated with the old me. Terrorist cells duking it out with me (and others) in a Budapest metro station? A rustic inn being reduced to ashes after a suspected firefight? Bomb threats? A full-scale military operation in Romania?I had been kidnapped with a resultant massive manhunt for me then returned under highly mysterious circumstances. There had been a young girl with me, we were close for reasons not really gone into and I had saved her despite all forms of parenthood had been anathema to me.I was a man who others deemed necessary to protect, thus a man making secretive phone calls, getting snippets of information and being involved in the deaths of way too many people to be the old, playboy me. Who had I become?I therefore might be a man who 'needed' to marry a billionairess due to some unspeakable political reasons, not out of any romantic/sexual desire of my own. Anais knew that I was a commitment-phobe, not a gold-digger. That meant she could be involved with me without it really being cheating. I needed her help, I had reached out to her when I was in crisis and she was in the people-helping business, right?There was clearly more evidence out there for her to discover and she had the good fortune to be able to have me in a spot where I could be interrogated."Where do you want to go?" I disengaged and went to my room. The door was only partially shut as I changed."Eleven Madison West," I was told."Oh," Odette cooed, "that place is expensive.""I know," Anais remarked."Why did you pick it?" Odette inquired."To remind Cáel that meals can be very expensive." That was my 'date' reminded me that I'd cheated with her over the course of a home-cooked meal, cooked not-by-her in someone else's home. I wondered how Maya was doing.Eleven Madison West meant I pulled out one of my Havenstone suits. They were tailored after all and I suspected that getting into this place at this time of night was going to take some charisma and finagling. Dressing as causal-me wouldn't do. When I stepped out, jaws dropped ~ I do look good all gussied up. Odette dispelled the shock by jumping into my arms."You look hot," she squealed. "Too bad I'm not going out with you.""You might want to remember that," Anais griped."We need to stop by Havenstone so I can attempt to dress up for this affair," Juanita stated."How about we call in a replacement? Give you the night off?" I suggested."Who?""Chaz?""You want that British SSR non-commissioned officer to be your personal bodyguard for tonight? You've got balls," Juanita coughed. I took out my phone and got ready to give him a call."Hey, Anais, why didn't you call me to tell me you were coming over?" I carefully avoided the word 'warned' as she would take that the wrong way."I don't have your personal phone number. I called your home phone and got the answering service, last night and again this morning," she narrowed her eyes."Odette, did Timothy get lucky last night?" I looked past the Mountie."No. A good friend of his rolled his motorcycle and he went to the hospital to help him out," Odette shook her head. Poor Timothy. My roomie/fuck-buddy misinterpreted Anais's pique. "Timothy is gay, not a sexual enabler.""Huh?" Juanita wondered."Wingman," I translated. "Sometimes the three of us go to gay clubs where I act as his wingman,""And they feed me to lesbians," Odette sounded enthusiastic. Thanks to me she was hardly a same-sex virgin."If there are three people living here and two bedrooms, who sleeps on the sofa?" Anais skewered Odette with her eyes."If Cáel has company and isn't sharing, I sleep with Timothy," Odette refused to wilt, or cut me some slack with Anais."Isn't sharing?" those ocular death orbs flicked my way."Hmm, if we are going to Elven Madison West, I had better make that call," I evaded. I rang Chaz."Nyilas," he answered. "How are you doing this evening?""I'm good. I have an ex-girlfriend from out of town visiting, she wants to go to a swanky place and Juanita isn't dressed for the detail so,""You want me to double date?""No, I need a bodyguard.""You are assuming I have something appropriate to wear.""You are British!" I protested. "Even your chicks have tuxedos.""Very well. Will this be a personal protection detail, or close support?""Aahhh,""Close support," said Anais."Personal Protection," countered Juanita."The one most likely to save me from being stabbed with a steak knife," I muttered."I am not going to physically attack you," Anais simmered. Yeah, right, I had heard that one before, and not just from her."Personal Protection it is," Chaz informed me."Oh, and she's a Mountie.""Is she armed?""No," I thanked the goddesses."Does she want to be?""Huh? Are you going to arm her?" I panicked."No. You have a NYPD liaison. Give Officer Kutuzov a call and make a formal request. If she is a law enforcement officer in good standing, it shouldn't be a problem.""Oh, I can do that?, I'm not sure that's the best idea," I prevaricated."Man up, Nyilas," he chided me. "You should work on making it so women don't want to shoot you instead of thinking of ways to disarm them.""Spoken like a man who wisely prefers the company of other men," I grumbled."Good use of the word 'wisely'. Next question: what are we using as a means of conveyance?""Umm,""I have my motorcycle," Anais was less than helpful."If you weren't one of the bravest human beings I'd ever met, I would determine at this moment that you are a dolt. Call Havenstone and arrange for one of those Mercedes Armored GL550s. Bring your license. I drive on the correct side of the road and I'm not keen on having a distraught paramour driving into a storefront at 80 kph.""Man, I like the way you speak," I joked."I took advantage of a proper English education.""I was joking with you.""I know.""Can I date your sister?" I didn't know if he had a sister, but he'd hinted there were multiple Tomorrow's out there. Anais' mood didn't improve."Yes. I like you. You are a good bloke.""Does your sister know how to kill people?""Yes. I'd say she's relatively proficient with a variety of small arms and hand-to-hand techniques," he enlightened me."Just checking.""Cáel, every woman you are interested knows how to kill people, or how to have people killed," Chaz reminded me."What about Odette? She's neither well connected nor lethal.""Odette is indeed an enigma. She counters that by being well liked by people who are capable of killing others who hurt her, except where you are concerned. You live a treasured life.""Have you made dinner reservations? If you need me for a black tie event it has to be, what is the American for it, swanky.""That's more of a Cael/Pamela thing," I corrected him. "American's say 'high class', expensive, or 'hot spot'.""Thanks for the update. Make those calls.""O-kay. Will do. I'll meet you at Havenstone in thirty minutes. Does that work for you?""Yes. Make those calls. I'll see you at, 7:52 pm, EDT. Mark.""Huh?""Goodbye Cáel," and he hung up."Who is this 'Chaz' character?" Anais questioned me."He is Color Sergeant Charles Tomorrow of the British Army's Special Reconnaissance Regiment, he's a badass and he's delicious," Odette answered for me."How do you know him, either of you?" came next."He was with," Odette began blabbing 'National Security' stuff."Odette, don't. Anais, he is member of the Joint International Khanate Interim Taskforce along with me. Odette helps out in an auxiliary role," I answered."Cáel, how did you end up doing this kind of work?" she was perplexed. "You were devoid of anything approaching civic responsibility when we were last together. Quite frankly, I didn't think you cared for anyone but yourself.""Hey now," Odette got feisty. She was my friend after all."We can talk about that over dinner?" I suggested. She didn't like that answer, so I lied. "I grew up," which was what she wanted to hear. I was spared any more interrogation at the moment by the necessity of making those three phone calls. Nikita liked hearing from me again, though she was less pleased that it was official business. She did agree to contact the appropriate agency for me, despite me making it for a different female law enforcement agent.I'd wised up about Havenstone. I called Executive services to have the car delivered to my door step. I cautioned the operative that, in my neighborhood, they might be stopped on suspicion of purchasing guns, drugs, and/or a good time. I would have the car in fifteen minutes and agreed to take the delivery driver back to work afterwards. I'd have done it even if I wasn't meeting Chaz.At Eleven Madison West, I got a snooty 'exactly who do you think you are?' followed by 'you will be placed on the waiting list, a spot may open up around 9:50'. Was I going to inform Chaz and Anais of this? Of course not. I planned to beg like a big dog, suggest that while I was a nameless face, I actually knew people, a person, and we'd see how far that got me.While waiting for the S U V to arrive and on the drive back to Havenstone, this is pretty much what followed:"Do you know who was behind your father's murder yet?""Yes, but I can't talk about it.""Was that the reason people are trying to kill you?""Yes. That and other reasons.""What other reasons?""Things I can't talk about.""Why can't you talk about it?""Secret society stuff ~ decoder rings, secret handshakes, writing in cyphers, holding clandestine meetings in public places after dark, and various other things world governments don't want me talking about.""Are you pulling my leg?" I wished I was running my hands over her legs. This wasn't the time for that revelation."No. Most of what I am telling you is the truth.""Were you in a shootout at the Chicago Medical Examiner's morgue?""Yes. I was unarmed at the time.""Was your life in danger?""It depends on what you mean by 'danger'. My allies had guns and were expert shots. I was shot at, but they missed me, so I not sure how much my life was at risk.""Can you please be serious?""I'm trying. You scare me.""You don't need to be afraid of me. I only want to help." That was mostly true. She was a diligent, hard-working incorruptible public servant,well, as long as you overlooked her charging me with bestiality when she was truly pissed with me."I'm not afraid of you hurting me. I'm afraid for you. You are an excellent peace officer and I'm worried that you will learn too much. Then your life will be as screwed up as mine.""I can take care of myself.""The reality that you are going out with me unarmed speaks volumes about what you don't know, Anais.""Don't think this line of questioning is over, Cáel.""Don't worry. I know you are not done.""Very well. How is your aunt?" The crab-fisherwoman, not the Irish menagerie."Happy as a clam, working a real job and living life on her own terms.""Where did you go wrong?" That was a loaded question. I had to tread carefully."A girl humiliated me in high school. I decided to take control of my life and somehow, despite my best intentions to be an unreliable lothario, I've ended up with people closer to me than family,and this constant need for physical protection.""Why are you engaged?" Finally, the real reason she was here. Had she come by to pick up her accoutrements, she would have been gone by the time I came home. She wanted answers, answers that allowed her to be in charge of our relationship again. It was the double-barreled impact of exceptional sex and wondering why she wasn't 'the one'.(Me) "Are you seeing somebody?""You didn't answer my question.""I've answered plenty of your questions. Answer mine.""No. Men expect too much from a career woman." Translation: 'I'm a bitch that, regardless of my dynamite looks and raunchy sex drive, repels men because I'm a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.'"You do put your career first." Translation: 'I've totally forgotten that you are a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.' It was what she wanted to hear."Your turn.""Put on your tin-foil hat. I did it to save lives in Central Asia when the anthrax strikes were going on. I have this friend over there that people listen to.""Who? The Great Khan?"I didn't respond which wasn't the answer she was expecting."How?" as in how could I possibly be good friends with the master of arguably the third or fourth most powerful nation on the face of the Earth"That's one of those things I can't talk about.""Do you love her?""I don't know. I'm lousy at relationships. I get along with her daughter. Her father wants to bury me alive in the Nevada desert. The rest of the family seems to be coming around to the idea that I might be one of them.""That isn't a 'yes'.""No, it isn't.""Do you think you can ever love someone?" If you need translated, sigh, okay, 'why don't you love me?'"Do you mean 'when am I going to stop stumbling from botched relationship to botched relationship and make something constructive of my personal life?'""Yes.""Did I mention that I've discovered I have a grandfather?""No. That isn't answering my question.""It is in a way. Did I mention that Mom had ten sisters I wasn't aware of? I had an uncle, but he died in my arms.""No. My condolences on your uncle. What does this have to do with you becoming more of an adult and becoming accountable for your life?""Did I mention I have an adopted grandmother who is my spiritual twin?""No.""Don't worry about my uncle. He died trying to kill me. My aunts murdered him, though I can never prove it.""Oh.""My grandfather? He was the one who sent those terrorists to kill me. It was his litmus test to see if I was worthy of being in his family. I passed.""Are you serious?""Yes. My spiritual grandma? She's a retired professional assassin. Daily I interact with a half-dozen people who have killed multiple human beings in their lifetimes. You want to know why I'm not behaving responsibly? I am acting responsibly. I'm trying to not get the decent civilians around me killed."She took awhile digesting that. By that time, we had returned to Havenstone and picked up Chaz. I made introductions."So, are you really with the SRR?" she asked him."Yes.""Why are you with Cáel?""My mandate contains multiple answers. Suffice it to say, since my RAF contemporary will not be returning from the UK until tomorrow, I am presently chief liaison officer for Her Majesty's government with JIKIT.""Why are you coming along as Cáel's bodyguard? Don't you have something better to do with your Friday evenings?" Subtle and polite, Anais ain't. Why was I putting up with her? She was a sexual tornado who would try anything once. She was a real prize."First question: Cáel is a friend, his life is in perpetual danger and I consider it my duty to keep him alive. He would do the same for me. Second question: the nature of my present assignment doesn't leave much room for any meaningful romantic associations.""Hmm," I contemplated what wasn't being said. "Chaz, you are nailing one of my security chicks, aren't you?""Yes.""Which one?""A man of character doesn't brag about such things."Chaz was getting some Amazon nookie. I had to find a way to tell him how dangerous that was. She might decide he's make good father material, not a good thing where Amazons were concerned."Are all of his security personnel women?" Anais pressed."Miss Saint-Amour, Havenstone is a corporation that employs over ten thousand people. There are precisely five men currently on their payroll. All their security personnel are woman. Cáel has very limited, if any, input on the matter.""Are you sure about that?""Yes, Miss Saint-Amour. Who would trust a man of Cáel's dubious experience with his own security?" Chaz pointed out."Oh." She hadn't thought of that."Can you tell me why you think his life is in danger?""He is far more likely to be kidnapped than murdered. He possess certain sensitive data that powerful entities would like to access, thus I am his bodyguard tonight. Considering the quality of the women who normally guard him, I consider it an honor.""To guard Cáel, on a date?""He was kidnapped visiting a child at a playground. Yes, we believe his life is in constant peril. The training and experience of his security service is top flight and it has been a pleasure to serve among them.""Were you with him in Budapest and Romania?""The metro station?""Yes.""Yes.""Romania?""Do you mean the counterterrorism action south of Miercurea Ciuc?""Yes.""Yes."Wow, these two were lousy communicators. I could imagine Chaz propositioning one of my Amazons.Chaz: 'You have a superior feminine physique which I find appealing. Want to fuck?'Amazon: 'You look like you have the prerequisite stamina and battle scars to be part of the New Directive. Sure.'"Were you involved in the actual combat? The SRR is normally an intelligence gathering unit.""I was gathering battlefield intelligence, Miss. That required my close proximity to armed and actively hostile enemy aliens (as in they were in Romania illegally, not that they were all supernatural beings). My involvement resulted in two KIA's and one WIA.""Damn Chaz, you rock.""I am a professional.""How many did Pamela gak?""One KIA.""Just one? Whoa, that's so unlike her.""She kept trying to bracket the cell leader (aka Ajax). He had the Devil's Own Luck.""Cáel, why are you making light of all those deaths?" Anais chastised me. "How many terrorists did you wound, or kill?""I wounded one guy.""That is disingenuous," Chaz chided me. "You orchestrated the operation, showed tactical expertise in seizing the most critical terrain feature and engineered the death of the terrorist leader.""My Cáel did that? When I knew him, he was adverse to violence," Anais shook her head."Considering the considerable number of people he's killed, he's still adverse to physical confrontation where his own life is involved. But God help you if you threaten someone he is close to, though. He's the man who can get things done when the team is in a pinch.""Cáel, what happened to you?" she didn't sound upset at all."I learned to care for people beyond my immediate interest, you know, actual long-term relationships," with the unspoken 'as opposed to women I'm currently having sex with'."It took you long enough," she snipped. Reference her being a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.The interrogation was put on hold while we entered the restaurant and,"Mr. Nyilas?" the maytre dee greeted me."Yes.""We will get you a table right away," he nodded obsequiously. What the hell was up with that? Where was my two hour wait time? Oh yeah, I was a minor, fifteen seconds of fame celebrity."Will Ms. Sulkanen be joining you this evening?""No. She had to oversee a packaged Erythrosine-monosaccharides explosion in Boca Raton. Flaming plastic pink flamingo bits were raining down everywhere. I imagine it is taking an Everest-sized load of hush money to keep this out of the media," I replied. I was so eerily sincere, he bought it and a look of horror snuck over his face. I had become the public face of corporate malfeasance."Your table (gulp) is ready, Sir," he began to sweat. He took us to our table for four then beat a hasty retreat. Undoubtedly his civic-mindedness would have him calling up TMZ within a minute. After all, it was unlikely he owned any plastic pink flamingos, or invested in their construction. Once he was gone, Chaz let a thin smile break through his hard-earned military unfazed-ability."What exactly are packaged Erythrosine-monosaccharides?" he inquired."Packaged is self-explanatory. Erythrosine is pink food coloring and monosaccharides are,""Sugar," Anais frowned."Exploding pixie sticks, I have nieces and nephews. You are a genius at misdirection, Mr. Nyilas," he nodded."Thank you, Color Sergeant Tomorrow. It is nice to be appreciated for my bizarre and useless preoccupation," I grinned."You practice lying?" Anais' view of me dimmed."Miss, he excels at extraneous, outrageous utterances. No harm is intended.""Things like I was helping her find her contact lenses?" That had been my excuse when caught coming out of Maya's apartment. Sadly, Anais is highly perceptive and knew the lady didn't wear contacts. The copious female aroma wafting off me certainly hadn't helped."That's unfair," I countered. "Back then, I was a college nitwit suffering from undiagnosed nymphomania. I'd like to think I'm getting better."" tes-vous mieux?" she retorted in French."Je suis assez intelligent pour aller vers vous lorsque des vies  taient sur la ligne." That's right, Anais. When my life and the lives of others were on the line, she was the first one I thought to call. Letting a woman know that you admire her profession, professionalism and reliability never hurts."Are you really a nymphomaniac?" she returned to English. French is the language of sex, as is any derivative of Sanskrit, Farsi and Portuguese. Reference the multitude of Indians, the hotness of Persian women and the outpouring of lust that is Brazil."I had a magnetoencephalography recently. The neuroscientists didn't know what to make of my brain patterns. I appear to be somewhat unique in my madness."She didn't believe me. I didn't blame her. No one really likes hearing a truth they don't want to accept."Here," I leaned forward and pointed to the tiny divot in my forehead. "I was stabbed with a needle in the skull. That is why they looked at me, not because of my sexual malfunction."She touched it to makes sure. We were interrupted by the waiter stopping by to see if we were ready to order yet."We will have three of the most expensive appetizers, dinners, deserts and wines," Anais preempted us. Ugh. I was either a millionaire by the wonders of Havenstone accounting, or broke. I foolishly never looked into such things, never having had much money before. I needed a distraction."Hey Chaz, nice suit," was what came to mind. It was a swell masterpiece of the tailoring arts I hadn't expect from a ground-pounder from a family of ground-pounders serving Queen and Country for generations."Thank you. Pamela picked it out for me, suspecting an event such as this would transpire. She told me you paid for it," Chaz answered."I did?""I made the reasonable deduction that she forged your signature on whatever medium was used for payment," he shrugged, "in the same way she exhibits a criminal tendency toward every other aspect of her life.""What does Pamela look like?" Anais glowered."She's his grandmother," Chaz responded politely. "They make quite the pair. Normally we don't let them alone in the same room. Bad things happen.""Bad things?""Things like that scenic hostel being reduced to ruin," he enlightened her."This is the supposed assassin?""Retired assassin," Chaz corrected her. "So far she's only, what is the term you two use?" he looked at me."Sending a Get-Well card to their next of kin? Pumping up the volume? Making a critical attitude adjustment? Retroactively revoking their lease on life? We have a few.""Yes, those. Pamela has assured the team director that she no longer accepts assignments of a murderous nature. These days she only practices her skills on those we determine are a threat to the greater endeavor," he explained."She murders people? You all murder people?" Anais furrowed her brow. "Cáel, do you engage in these activities?""What? Who? Me? No!" I waved off any conspiratorial associations. "The vast majority of people I've killed was totally by accident.""How do you accidently kill people?" she pierced my soul with her voice."Okay, I let them kill themselves because warning them would have resulted in me and some friends meeting very immediate violent ends," I pleaded."Miss Saint-Amour, I've talked to trustworthy people who were on the scene when this happened. It was a paramilitary action with the lives of children on the line. Cáel acted to save the lives of innocents," Chaz defended me. That is what Anais wanted to believe; that I was basically a decent human being. I was a pig, but a courageous one. I had confronted her after my infidelity, on the other side of the US/Canadian border where her jurisdiction didn't apply.I knew my revelations were hideously hard to believe. In my favor, I had been in dangerous places doing dangerous things. The Metro firefight had been captured on the place's security system (which had been leaked to the public thus leading to some delusional admirers into thinking I would make a great new King of Hungary even though they hadn't had a monarch since 1918 nor was I from the right (Hapsburg) family. In case this whole Havenstone thing came crashing down in flames, I needed to keep my options open).There had been a bomb threat at Mindszent which I had reputable sources call in (and where I had admittedly hung out with a few of the women who saved me from an earlier disaster) and Miercurea Ciuc had made the international news. Well over 100 people had died and some of the terrorists were still at large. The Romanian government declared I had been 'instrumental' in the confrontation without saying what 'instrumental' meant.I was heroically vague, more mature than where we left off and clearly incited pussy-twitching memories. We'd once fucked so continuously hard and long one weekend that neither one of us could stand until an hour after we stopped. Anais was well worth the pain I was contemplating. Sex with her wasn't the pain I was worried about. It was dodging all her calls afterwards. Once again reference her being a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.Oh, how did I know she was reveling in our past coital moments? She hadn't walked out on me yet. She hadn't walked out when she found Odette in my domicile, when she met Juanita, or when she found out that I worked with highly experienced killers as part of my new daily routine.Normally Anais was smarter than this and had a career in law enforcement to contemplate. Lastly, she hadn't asked to be armed, despite getting permission from the NYPD. Had she decided to get a gun, Anais was sure in her hormonally-cascading mindset she would have shot me by now. I incite all kinds of passion in women. It is a curse.The rest of dinner was unremarkable. Anais continued to interrogate Chaz who proved that he was both skilled in counter-interrogation techniques and not willing to spill anymore secrets about what anyone at JIKIT did. However he had provided her with every logical reason to beat feet back across the Canadian border and she hadn't taken the hints about what a disaster sleeping with me could be.We drove Anais back to her motel, then Chaz and I headed home in silence. Despite his earlier declarations, he knew how to drive the 'right' way all along. As he was letting me out in front of my building, he gave me this pleasant warning."I'm not going to lecture you about not going back there, or avoiding the crazy ones. You already know better and are going back by her place anyway. I do advise that whatever you do, don't let her restrict your movements in any way. She's likely to make you pay double for your past indiscretions and take payment out on your cock. Good luck, Mate.""Wait," I stopped him. "Can you help me hotwire her bike? I can use that as an excuse to darken her doorway.""Dolt," he muttered. He helped me anyway because that's what really good friends do ~ assisting you in your self-destruction so we could joke about it later. At least that was what I hoped was going on. Chaz being a closet sadist was an unsettling idea. I didn't get to immediately pursue my plan because,(We work for you, don't we?)At 9 am, the President of the United States of America, after a late night briefing and a good night's sleep, decided that for the sake of world peace he had to intervene in Southeast Asia ~ Thailand to be specific, though he had some vague notion that a summit of regional leaders was in the offing and the US needed to establish some sort of game plan instead of looking impotent and disinterested.Based on carefully selected bits of information supplied to him by us (JIKIT), he ordered two carrier taskforces to move to the Gulf of Thailand to enforce an anticipated UN arms embargo and 'No-Fly Zone'. It would take four days (September 3rd) for Carrier Strike Group Nine (built around the USS Ronald Reagan) and the 11th Marine Expeditionary Unit (2,200 souls) to take up a position in the South China Sea close to the Gulf of Thailand. By fortuitous circumstance, 500 Marines and sailors were already deployed to Malaysia on a joint training mission with the Malaysian Marines.The second one, the USS Carl Vinson's Carrier Strike Group One wouldn't arrive until the 9th, six days later. What the US government wanted to know was what the Khanate and Vietnam would do in those long, lonely six days. The Khanate had as many modern, up-to-date combat aircraft on Woody Island as the Reagan could send up. The Vietnamese could add another 48 planes worth worrying about.There was the added complication that Thailand hadn't asked for help yet. His experts (us again) were suggesting that he was about to wake up one morning and find Khanate tanks rolling down the streets of Bangkok, which

Viele Themen aus Runde 1 der Six Nations und Deutschlands Niederlage in Bukarest.

On this uphill episode of the Shut Up & Sit Down Podcast, Tom is rambling to Matt about a couple bits and bobs he's played recently! First up is Flamme Rouge's ‘Grand Tour' expansion, that turns a simple session of Flamme Rouge into a month long tour! Is it as good as it was when Matt played it just seven short years ago? Find out here! That's then followed by a little recommendation for a recent Oink title - Moving Wild - before capping the podcast off with a bit of retrospective chat regarding SETI: Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence after our recent(ish) middling review… Thanks for listening everyone! Have a great weekend! Timestamps: 02:15 - Flamme Rouge: Grand Tour 17:55 - Moving Wild 28:07 - SETI: Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence

Why not buy a board game from our sponsors Kienda: kienda.co.uk/polyhedroncollider Warning: This podcast contains strong language and adult content  During this season, it is a tradition for board gaming and RPG podcasts to embrace the festive spirit, sing, and celebrate. The Polyhedron Collider team will follow a more typical custom by indulging in too much drink and sparking a debate! In this episode, the boys from the PhC will be challenged by Endeavor: Deep Sea, the poker-themed card game The Gang, and the newest drafting game from Oink, Moving Wilds. We also share our appreciation for the charming Castle Combo and offer our insights on the popular roleplaying game Pathfinder Second Edition.  Games Mentioned 00:05:10 Endeavor: Deep Sea 00:22:39 The Gang 00:27:10 Castle Combo 00:32:25 Moving Wilds 00:42:46 Pathfinder Second Edition ⭐Show Sponsor: Kienda When you sign up to an account with Kienda use this link to bag yourself a wee discount and help support the show.  Let's face it, you were going to buy a board game anyway

"Oink, oink!"   We continue Season Four of Carolyn North Outloud podcast with a reading by producer, Leslie Jackson of Carolyn's piece, “Johnny the Pig.”   Music: Composer: Kaila Flexer Performed by Teslim: Kaila Flexer and Gari Hegedus  Carolyn North Out Loud is produced by: Leslie Jackson: www.mudfest.net   Please rate, review, and share—it is how Carolyn spreads this message of comfort in these weird times. 

The latest BARRACKS TALK podcast episode is waiting, press 'play' now!   The Crew was joined by Tyler (INTERmugs.com) as they remember Pearl Harbor and discuss Thanksgiving with their families. They move on to a few work-related issues and the struggles of parenthood with SGT WarDawg, Tyler and Oink! Also in this episode, the Crew hits on the topics of energy, JJ's first tobacco pipe creation and the JonBenét Ramsey documentary on Netflix. At the end, we hit on the Department of Veterans Affairs' congressional investigations recently making headlines. - Hard Of Hearing, Deaf, or Have Other Hearing Issues? READ THE TRANSCRIPT! https://dvradio.net/deaf-and-hard-of-hearing/ - Grab Your DV Radio Ten Year Anniversary Shirts! https://bit.ly/DVR-SreamLabs-Merch  - Liberty Risk Podcast https://beacons.ai/libertyriskpodcast - Hope For 22 A Day www.HopeFor22ADay.org - INERT Mugs [DV Radio Challenge Coin] www.inertmugs.com - Want To Sponsor DV Radio? No pricing model beats DV Radio when it comes to sponsorship. https://bit.ly/SponsorDVRadio DV Radio on Rumble https://rumble.com/c/DVRadio DV Radio on twitch.tv https://www.twitch.tv/dvradio - INERT Mugs Website: https://www.inertmugs.com/products/20oz-burn-it-down-thermite-tumbler Do you want Betsy Ross's FIGHT? Email chris@affinityinc.tech; first come, first serve! Guests/Hosts: Oink, Joaquin Juatai, Bender, SGT WarDawg, Joel (MBR Radio) and Bo [NOTE: Click these links!] ---------- DV Farm Septic System Fundraiser https://donorbox.org/dv-farm-septic-system ---------- Parental Control Apps https://bit.ly/ChildSafeInternet ---------- Backpacks For Life https://backpacksforlife.org/ ---------- Wah-Tie Woodturning https://wahtiewoodturning.com/ ---------- Affinity Innovations, Inc. https://affinitybsc.com/ ---------- Backpacks For Life Fundraiser https://ko-fi.com/dvradio/goal?g=1 ---------- Edited by Munkee Bawlz Media https://www.munkeebawlzmedia.com/ ---------- Are you a Veteran Owned Business? Have unique, handmade items that we can buy and review on a show? Contact us, show us what you have, and we'll (at least Bo) will spend up to $50 per month and speak openly about your product(s)!! ---------- Find Out More About Betsy Ross At Her Website https://bit.ly/Fight-With-Betsy-Ross ---------- SGT WarDawg http://sgtwardawgtv.fans.link/ ---------- *Got an idea for BARRACKS TALK or any other show? Want to be a guest? Then please feel free to contact us by sending an email to info@dvradio.net, oink@dvradio.net, ptsdog@dvradio.net.* ---------- **LINKS TO CHECK OUT** EVERYTHING DYSFUNCTIONAL VETERANS https://whereisdv.carrd.co  ---------- Grab DV Radio's Battlegrounds From Ubora Coffee At: http://bit.ly/DVR-BattlegroundCoffee  ---------- DV RADIO PARTNERS, SPONSORS, and AFFILIATES https://dvr-listen-support.carrd.co

The latest BARRACKS TALK podcast episode is waiting, press 'play' now!   The Crew was joined by Tyler (INTERmugs.com) but without Oink & JJ. The discussed everything from personal anecdotes (including Thanksgiving and some TSA stories) to being completely vulgar and professionally unprofessional as only Dysfunctional Veterans can be. - Hard Of Hearing, Deaf, or Have Other Hearing Issues? READ THE TRANSCRIPT! https://dvradio.net/deaf-and-hard-of-hearing/ - Grab Your DV Radio Ten Year Anniversary Shirts! https://bit.ly/DVR-SreamLabs-Merch  - Liberty Risk Podcast https://beacons.ai/libertyriskpodcast - Hope For 22 A Day www.HopeFor22ADay.org - INERT Mugs [DV Radio Challenge Coin] www.inertmugs.com - Want To Sponsor DV Radio? No pricing model beats DV Radio when it comes to sponsorship. https://bit.ly/SponsorDVRadio DV Radio on Rumble https://rumble.com/c/DVRadio DV Radio on twitch.tv https://www.twitch.tv/dvradio - INERT Mugs Website: https://www.inertmugs.com/products/20oz-burn-it-down-thermite-tumbler Do you want Betsy Ross's FIGHT? Email chris@affinityinc.tech; first come, first serve! Guests/Hosts: Oink, Joaquin Juatai, Bender, SGT WarDawg, Joel (MBR Radio) and Bo [NOTE: Click these links!] ---------- DV Farm Septic System Fundraiser https://donorbox.org/dv-farm-septic-system ---------- Parental Control Apps https://bit.ly/ChildSafeInternet ---------- Backpacks For Life https://backpacksforlife.org/ ---------- Wah-Tie Woodturning https://wahtiewoodturning.com/ ---------- Affinity Innovations, Inc. https://affinitybsc.com/ ---------- Backpacks For Life Fundraiser https://ko-fi.com/dvradio/goal?g=1 ---------- Edited by Munkee Bawlz Media https://www.munkeebawlzmedia.com/ ---------- Are you a Veteran Owned Business? Have unique, handmade items that we can buy and review on a show? Contact us, show us what you have, and we'll (at least Bo) will spend up to $50 per month and speak openly about your product(s)!! ---------- Find Out More About Betsy Ross At Her Website https://bit.ly/Fight-With-Betsy-Ross ---------- SGT WarDawg http://sgtwardawgtv.fans.link/ ---------- *Got an idea for BARRACKS TALK or any other show? Want to be a guest? Then please feel free to contact us by sending an email to info@dvradio.net, oink@dvradio.net, ptsdog@dvradio.net.* ---------- **LINKS TO CHECK OUT** EVERYTHING DYSFUNCTIONAL VETERANS https://whereisdv.carrd.co  ---------- Grab DV Radio's Battlegrounds From Ubora Coffee At: http://bit.ly/DVR-BattlegroundCoffee  ---------- DV RADIO PARTNERS, SPONSORS, and AFFILIATES https://dvr-listen-support.carrd.co

This is an unconventional way to make people smile...

DroPolter. Town 77. Whale to Look. Sardegna. Jedynie 25% tytułów z dzisiejszego odcinka ma szansę na wydanie po polsku, ale o każdej z tych gier warto wspomnieć. Czasem żeby polecić, czasem żeby ostrzec. Zapraszamy do słuchania. Przy okazji czemu by nie polubić naszej stronki na Facebooku i nie zasubskrybować naszego kanału na Youtubie? Zachęcamy. MP3 do POBRANIA

Promises To Keep. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. Note to readers: There is a bit of mangling of the Iliad going on. My apologies to Homer and the countless singers before him who carried the Iliad down through the dark centuries until the Greeks figured out how writing works. “Never judge a friend by what they give, but of how much of themselves they give.” (From the floor of Katrina's office) First thoughts,  I was on the floor where I had fallen, surrounded and being manhandled in the tenderest way. That was a romantic means of relating to my mummification. Those little Band-Aids that had been applied when I woke up from my coma had failed the 'Cáel is a Smeckle-head' test. All the crud they had pumped into my system and amperage they had channeled through my muscles was not the same as eating and exercise. Having a sexual romp with two ladies? My Goddess made plans for my body that my caloric bank account couldn't afford, thus me passing out. Unlike my time with Miyako and Estere, I had a feeling my two sofa-buddies were ovulating. Fatherhood was on the way. How my infant would survive the continuous poisonous assault on the augur's lymphatic system was beyond me. Her guardian, let's just say I dealt with sneaky bitches/Dot on a regular basis and leave it at that. "He is awake," Tadêfi alerted the room. "You must leave so I can deliver my message to him in the privacy he requested." "I am almost done," a different Amazon voice stated. She was the medico dealing with my wounds. By the aroma, she had slathered on two coats of the healing goo that was becoming as comfortable to my nostrils as my soap-on-a-rope. A few more rounds of adhesive tape and the exodus from the room began. I hadn't opened my eyes because I was unprepared for the looks of anger, disappointment and concern surely leveled my way. The door shut and my eyes opened. "The Conqueror, the Champion, the Friendless and the Foe have all escaped the Land of the Endless Black Sands and returned to the Sunlit Realm," Tadêfi whispered upon my lips. Huh? That was it? Seriously, four freaking titles without, And here came the rest, faces. Faces with eyes and eyes with a purpose. Names, not names I wanted to hear at the moment. Bad fucking news all around. It couldn't be something helpful like the identity of the next High Priestess, No, that would be good fucking news. Okay, time to turn this frown upside down. I could make this work for me. How, I wasn't sure. "Thank you," I responded to Tadêfi's plea of understanding. Outside of having impregnating sex with me, the Sex-Master, Timothy was going to Nerf-shoot me for that, she'd endured spiritual, mental and physical grief and torment to be with me here today. She waited, kneeling beside my head. "Kiss me," I requested. It was a moist act, full of compassion and understanding. I racked my mind for the names and their importance. "Who was Shammuramat?" "I don't know, but this helps, right?" Tadêfi expressed her need to make the reward for the sacrifices to make sense. Five dead sister-augurs. They had to find that son-of-a-bitch! "Tadêfi, we are back in the fight," I grinned. "You and your sisters have given the Host a mighty weapon in the upcoming struggle." I knew that to be true because I knew who and where the Conqueror was, I knew he wasn't ready to be revealed, his enemies were closing in and he was ignorant of that fact. I was going to have to rain on his parade to save his life. The five augurs hadn't died futilely. The Weave of Fate had shielded the man and it took the augers' fanatical devotion to cut the threads and expose the truth the Host needed most. The Champion, hell, I knew who he was. I chuckled. Tadêfi was confused. The Champion was coming to kill me, me and a bunch of other Amazons, because blood feuds tend to run both ways. The Foe. He was easy enough. Granddad. The Bastard just wouldn't stay dead. I had a clue to what was going on now. I wasn't sure how useful that knowledge would be. Still, knowledge is knowledge. That thing crawling around inside my brain? No help there. That left Shammuramat. That name was familiar. Even when I finally placed it, I didn't understand her role in things. Why her? "Krasimira," I called out. I struggled to sit up and with Tadêfi's help, I did so. The Keeper and two guardians entered as well. One, Sikia, hovered over her companion/augur. "What is the link between Shammuramat and the Host?" I inquired. I saw no recognition in the Keeper's eyes. "She was the first ever "independent" queen of a nation-state, Assyria." Krasimira sat on the sofa and retrieved her tablet from inside her robes. She began working with the electronic history of the Amazon race. "9th Century BCE," I added. Slowly others migrated back into the room. Buffy, Katrina (not good and not happy), Elsa (really not good) and Desiree. Pamela leaned against the door sill, neither in nor out. Katrina sat behind her desk. The phone came out and whispered conversations began in earnest. I had shoved us straight into a war which looked like a free for all at the moment. No one trusted anyone. No one could afford to. I had to change that. The only saving grace was that it appeared no Secret Society had planned for the Protocols to abruptly end a week and a half ago. "Ah, I found it," Krasimira spoke up. Because I'm me, it was at that moment I finally realized that someone had put me in my biking shorts in an effort to provide me a modicum of modesty, with the benefit of blood being smeared on the inside. "She abandoned the Host, she was put under a death sentence for killing her twin sister who was chosen to lead House Anat over her." "Anat?" I queried. "The other dead First House," Krasimira sighed. "They were renowned for their berserkers. Some would drape themselves in the entrails of their enemies in the midst of battle to increase their ferocious appearance." "Oh, how sweet, what was Ishara known for?" I was surprised I'd never asked. "Ishara were the emissaries of the Host," Krasimira informed me. With the Amazon practice of killing embassies sent their way, the extinction of my house made much more sense. "What does this mean?" Desiree took charge of matters since Katrina was still busy on the phone. In a few short weeks, Desiree's prestige had definitely increased. Katrina was her sister in more than name now. "Where to begin,  Fine, why don't we refer to the Mycenaeans by their proper Amazon name?" Everyone but Buffy was glancing about nervously. "You used the name, didn't you?" Elsa rubbed the bridge of her nose, dreading the response. "Yes, " I answered. "Because no one warns him of shit," Pamela huffed. "You assume an Amazon education with no basis in reality. You act like he grew up with our fairy tales and phantasmal histories. Everyone in this room, but Buffy," she acknowledge my First, "knew he spoke our language and the accompanying risk. Still, no one warned him." "You didn't warn him," Desiree skewered Pamela with a glance. "Not my job, Buttons," Pamela chuckled. "I relish the rest of you being made to look like idiots too much to be useful to Cáel unless it really matters. So he invoked an ancient malediction. What is the worst that could happen?" "I'm going to make a huge deductive leap, am I the reason the Achaean hero Ajax and his boys are back from the dead and coming after us for some Ako-level vengeance?" I groaned. (That's the 47 Ronin for us Westerners) Silence. "That's not your fault, Sport," Pamela snorted. "Mano-man, was I a dumbass for doing nothing. I'll take the blame for that one ladies. Damn Cáel, you would have to pick the Unconquered One, wouldn't you?" "Who is this guy and why does he hate us?" Buffy interjected. Pause. "Our ancestors poisoned his wine so that, in his angry haze, he mistook his own men for his enemies and slaughtered them all, back during the Trojan War. Afterwards, he committed suicide in anguish over his crime, Death opened his eyes at the last, he saw our treachery and managed to curse us as he died," Krasimira informed the lot of us. "And my using that word brought him back? That sounds, weak," I grunted. "The word would not have been enough," Tadêfi comforted me. "There must have been some sort of rift in the curtain of Reality that allowed the others to slip through. I don't understand how, oh no," she gasped as the pieces came together. "I'm willing to believe that was the price of doing business," I petted Tadêfi's cheek. "Please enlighten us," Elsa grumbled. "I need to find the Earth  and  Sky ambassador and set up a new meeting. Using what Tadêfi has gifted me with and the sacrifice of her fellow augurs, I can secure an alliance for us if only I can make up for the whole stunt Troika played," I grinned. "Any ideas?" "We could call them," Pamela produced my phone. "Seems some lady named Hana Sulkanen has been trying for days to get in touch with you. She hunted down the owner of the necklace, they talked about your current physical state, courtesy of Odette, and the owner of the necklace has expressed a continued interest in meeting you, and only you. It would appear that they really don't trust the rest of our merry little band since your first disappearance." Hana, and here I had killed her step-brother, the one she despised. An unexpected benefit of civil discourse, my People's chance of survival had doubled. Pamela lobbed my phone and I caught it. "What of the other two?" Tadêfi pushed down on my euphoria. "Was the Foe dead as well?" A quick look at Pamela told me she knew the answer to that. "The Foe is complicated," I lied. "His return was an inevitability, so we count that as a draw. The Champion, bad news. Let's put Shammy in the 'maybe' column and the Conqueror is a win for our side." A Berserker Queen, fresh from the Underworld, who we were honor-bound to kill,  or the 'other lost heir to a dead House' that was going to make us cobble together some nonsense to bring her back into the fold. If I wasn't the male leader of a spiritually significant All-Girls social club/paramilitary outfit, I might have been daunted by my prospects of achieving the latter. "The thing going on inside your head?" Elsa asked. That explained her presence. My mental capacity was still suspect. Was I still me? Could I flip out with no warning? "It is still there. I still have no idea what happened to me, or what the results might be. This means I'm going into battle wounded and that's that," I stated. "Are you acting in the best interest of the Host," Elsa studied me. "I am not sure," I confessed after half a minute's introspection. "So many of you are fuck-nuts; I'm not sure what acting responsible is for this set," I added jokingly. "As it stand, you lack the authority to pass judgment on me, Elsa. I promise you that if I feel I'm losing control, I will turn myself in." "Saint Marie would feel better if you stayed here," Elsa insisted. "Is the SD declaring war on House Ishara?" Buffy rose to the challenge. "We (by that she meant my fellow Isharans) have discussed the matter and talked to our best neuroscientist. She cannot definitively tell us Cáel isn't Cáel, so there is no reason to constrain him." Whoa. In our best prospect's educated opinion I was not-not me. Legions of English teachers weren't going to like that. "I have the answer for that," Katrina spoke up. "I owe Cáel and I would pay that debt now. He expressed a desire to see my niece, Aya. Do you still wish that Cáel Ishara?" "More than ever, but the Council is meeting," I sighed. "Buffy is your (dead word spoken), your apprentice," Katrina suggested. "Appoint someone to stand with her." That was more than good advice. Buffy was a woman and, to those who knew of her, as fierce an Amazon as ever lived. That was what Katrina was telling me without telling me. "I choose Daphne Pile, if she will accept, to stand by Buffy's side," I announced. Buffy would need someone who was passionate for my cause and who spoke Old Kingdom Hittite. Buffy still didn't, and the chance of the Council speaking English on her behalf was non-existent. "That is Daphne of House Cotyttia," Pamela corrected me. Who Cotyttia was? I had no idea. I was stupid to think Daphne's actual Amazon surname was Pile. Daphne wasn't even around. Executive Services was functioning fine without me and that meant Daphne had a work queue. "The Thracian Goddess of Sex, Orgies, War and Slaughter," Krasimira gracefully filled in my ignorance. Another whoa, why wasn't she my matron goddess? Tadêfi hauled off and slapped me. The action seemed to take everyone, Tadêfi included, by surprise. "I don't know why I did that," Tadêfi wailed out in despair. I did. It didn't take telepathy to figure out what I had been thinking. To prove my point, Pamela laughed. I cupped Tadêfi's jaw. "Worry not," I cooed. "I had that coming, Dot Ishara," I dodged another one, "isn't happy with me right now." Recall, Tadêfi was hooked up to an old-fashioned party line with the Beyond. "Animaniacs," Pamela snorted. "I so love you. It is my deep and abiding pleasure to have you as my Grandson." "I'm not your grandson," I countered. "Well, I say you are. Now be quiet and accept the shame," Pamela's eyes danced with amusement. "That makes me, Daphne and Brielle incest," I pointed out. "Amazons don't have an incest taboo," Pamela retorted. Duh. They are all women, no chance of seven fingered, Cyclops babies. "Ah, women, misunderstanding and pain, Buffy, would you check out Quebec and see if I'm still wanted in that province for bestiality. It could be important later," I commanded. "Bestiality?" only one woman failed to mutter, sputter or exclaimed. "The complainant in question is not that pissed at you anymore," Katrina's rolodex mind kicked in. "I believe she expressed a desire to question you about some missing accoutrements though." My splitting headache meant I had to think about that, ah yes, her dress uniform. It was/had been Canada Day, thus her having an official function and thus me cheating with the girl from across the hall in the Mountie's bed. I'm an idiot alright and my ability to keep an eye on the clock needs improvement. My last image of her, frothing at the mouth (she was a tad more possessive than I had anticipated) as she screamed out insults in Quebecois French concerning my lineage, personality failings and the treasured parts of my anatomy. She punctuated various parts of that deranged episode by hurling articles of her clothing over the border at me as I turned (once I had good Ole US soil/pavement under my feet) and tried to get us back together. Yes, I had them, just not in my Box of Failed Romances. Acting on hopes of reconciliation, I had the uniform dry cleaned, placed in a dress bag, and the boots polished; both currently occupying space in my closet. At least the Alburgh-Noyan Crossing guards (it is a dual Canadian-American post) appreciated me evading/begging forgiveness long enough for them to see her in only her bra and panties. I imagine they didn't normally get much excitement there. "Katrina, " I began. "Yes, Maya forgives you too, though she scored an 'At Risk' for reliability. Anais sounded genuine," Katrina related. Anais was the Mountie. Maya was the Guyane Française university student from across the hall, the one I was caught cheating with. I had told her I was Anais's brother. Maya was also a super-exceptional cook. "Cáel Ishara, who are these women we are talking about?" Sikia demanded. 'We', that didn't take long. We were now a 'we', which in Amazon meant 'male, you're my property'. "I have a sideline job as an Amway distributor," I replied. "I give crappy customer service." "You give awesome customer service," Katrina riposted. "That's the problem." "Sikia, you are not the first Amazon Cáel has stuck his dick into. You are probably not the tenth," Elsa dripped with frustration. Quick count: Rhada, Buffy, Oneida and Gael, I was only going to count the penile-vaginal penetrations. "They are only numbers five and six, thank you very much," I defended myself. "So much for your 'intern, no sex' policy," Desiree muttered. "Cut me some slack, I work with stone-cold, Olympic level athlete foxes 24/7," I griped. "I am a sexual being too, I have needs." "What about the 'End of Internship' hunting shindig?" Desiree pulled a flawless 'Katrina'. "Oh, it is still on. With my 'do or die' learning curve, it is going to be so much more fun," I grinned. "And, okay, no more Amazon sex until then, sorry Rachel." "Except for house members," Buffy insisted. "No exceptions," Elsa demanded. "I'll keep an eye on him," Pamela resolved the issue. "No more Amazon boinking for him." She was such a liar. She was also a highly accomplished liar because everyone bought it. On with my life. Stage one: exit Katrina's office. Done deal, no problems. Stage two: set up meeting with the Earth  and  Sky. They wanted to meet on their ground. Since I was the uncertain factor in these negotiations, I agreed. I was bringing one, Pamela raised four fingers, four people with me. Who? Outside of Pamela, I had no idea. Stage three: going to medical and putting on my business suit, it was a new one and very, very nice. I was moving up into serious majestic magnate territory. I also picked up buddy number two, FBI Special Agent Virginia Maddox. Why had I chosen a federal agent to accompany me to a meeting between two secret societies? I hadn't a clue. Sometimes you have to roll with these things. In the lobby, I picked up number three, Delilah, Mom's MI-6 operative/baby-sitter. Compassionate, caring people were surrounding me all the time. It gave me this sensation of a 'down home' environment no matter where I went, if down home was Gaza, or Donetsk. I think my entourage/lifestyle observation teams had grown to encompass six cars. I was in no condition for riding my bike, so that recourse was denied me. Taxi? One, most were hard-working stiffs like my family who didn't deserve to be caught in a noontime, drive-by assassination attempt. Besides, with my luck I'd meet the guy from Qatar again, the one with the sister with cute eyes. That reminded me, I gave Nicole a call. "How are you doing?" she quickly inquired. "Good," I lied to a past master of shattering perjury. Pause. "I'm surrounded by girls with guns, tailed by your clients, some part of a Federal Task force and some people who I don't know yet. Hold on." I put my hand over my phone. "Delilah, are you packing heat?" I asked softly. She opened her jacket revealing paired revolvers in shoulder holsters. I didn't recognize them so the Brit gave me the 4-1-1. "Ruger Alaskans," she grinned. Bing! Now I recalled them. The girl who taught me to shoot once read some reviews of that beast on her laptop while I gave her a slow, passionate screw from behind. She became all hot and bothered, wiggling, squirming and generally having a grandiose time with my cock deep within. I repeat, this girl really loved guns, a huge cerebral G-spot for her. Oh yeah, the Ruger Alaskan is what you get if you are worried about Grizzly bears popping their heads through the tent flaps late at night. Delilah was probably packing 4 80's. Her guns would turn 250 kilograms of pissed off ursine into an excellent throw-rug in about two shots. In an urban environment,  well, maybe she thought the New York Giants were actually giants, or something like that. Two were overkill, unless you expected someone needing to borrow one. "Just checked. I remain the only one unarmed in my personal carnival of carnage, " my words trailed up to an unintelligible mumble. I was mumbling because suddenly four handguns were casually offered up for my use (Tiger Lily was holding one over her shoulder as she drove), in the same way you'd offer up some Nicorette to a man jonesing for a smoke. Rachel was kind enough to hand me my familiar Glock-22 and Ruger 38 caliber with their accompanying holsters. Two spare clips followed, then I stashed the lot. I scratched my calf. It took me a second to realize I was reaching for my pistol. No, not the one at my hip, or my ankle, but the one, in my boot? "Now that you've been handed firearms of dubious origin, can I get back to questioning you," the FBI agent intruded upon my ruminations. "We were discussing that list of people that are visiting a morgue instead of a court room. What can you tell me?" "Bye Nicole. Miss you. Being interrogated by a blonde FBI lady with a whips scar on her eyebrow and eyes that could scare a badger back into its hole. Later," I cut of my lawyer's fierce demand that I keep my mouth shut. "Nothing useful that wouldn't implicate myself and others in a criminal conspiracy," I answered her. "There is no way I'd name anyone else I suspect of involvement. I feel no guilt over what has happened, so no remorseful confession, and that is based on my belief that cosmic justice has been achieved." "You can't create lists of people for execution," Maddox persisted. "That negates the whole justice system and the principle of innocent until proven guilty." Wow! Except for the two of us, every other person in the car snorted their derision of Maddox's presumptive naiveté. "Do you even believe the tripe spilling from your pie-hole?" Delilah mocked Maddox. "I'm in law enforcement. That means I enforce the laws, not interpret them, or choose which ones I want to obey and which ones to ignore," Virginia fought back. "Love, that's crap and you know it. You are an agent of the US government. You bomb, drone-strike, overthrow lawfully elected governments and assassinate in your nation's best interests," Delilah countered. "You selectively enforce your Constitution when it suits you." "I'm law enforcement, not the military or foreign affairs. Know the difference," Maddox glared. "The pay master is the same,  you willingly collect your thirty pieces of silver; get off your high horse because you are in the shat now, Agent Maddox. I haven't known this crowd an hour and I know for a fact that you are the only US citizen onboard," Delilah chortled. "I don't know their bleeding nationality, but I doubt it is on the UN Charter." Maddox turned to me. "That was succinct and rather accurate," I murmured. "Special Agent Maddox, I have the sneaking suspicion that you are with us because FP (federal prosecutor) Castello feels you can handle this, Umm, unusual set of circumstance. I promise you this, it is going to get worse." "Why don't we test this quaint theory?" FBI Lass challenged us. "Jail, bail, and I'm waking up in Rio de Janeiro in two days," I sighed. "I have a few thousand in the bank, live in a hole and own my father's home, when it clears probate. Only you know I'm flight risk. A dozen people will vouch/lie about my character and that's that. All you've succeeding in doing is making enemies when you need friends." "There is still a matter of multiple people dead under suspicious circumstance," she said. "Imagine for a second that Cáel admits to creating a hit list," Pamela began. "He would never give up the names of the other people involved. He didn't kill anyone, or say 'kill them'. Now what? You still have an abysmal case to put before a judge. Add to that, the mitigating factor of a raped girl. You get to break her down until she's a cooperating witness because she's the only one who can provide you with Cáel's motive," my mentor continued. "Good for you and your team. She gets to betray the man who tried to save her. Cáel promised horrific retribution if any of those in the now-dead crowd hurt her. That is rather unlike him, he normally forgives when given the least excuse. I don't give a damn about women's rights, or the rights of rape victims. I really could give a shit about human rights for that matter. Wronging me is the surest way to early retirement. It is not a matter of strong versus weak, or right versus wrong. What matters to me is who I can trust. I don't know you, thus I don't trust you. I trust your government to be so much chicken shit. I base this on the lack of public torture and execution. I want the families of dying criminals paraded in front of those cock-suckers before the condemned finally perish in agony. I want to see thieves get their forearms hacked off, trial by combat, and respect for your elders. I want to see public officials being sacrificed upon the altar of Jehovah when they leave office. I want to see a system of justice with a soul, not law books thicker than an aircraft carrier's hull. A government 'of the People, by the People, for the People' should be the sole guiding force for your culture and we both know that's never going to happen. I admire your soldiers; not because they are brave and combat effective, they are. I admire them because they are fighting and dying for elected officials and a population that can't locate Afghanistan, or Iraq on a map, can't tell the difference between a Sikh and a Muslim, and thinks 'Pashtun' is an exotic piece of furniture. I admire them because they are better human beings despite you, not because of you," Pamela was coming to her crescendo. "Basically you people, by that I mean most of the human race, are dangerous in your idiocy, arrogance and pride in your ignorance. Not one of you should be allowed to use weapons, or play with fire. For you, unrestricted voting is a crime right up there with inventing, disease prevention, bilingualism and anything that perpetuates your educational system." "Lady, why are you so angry with the world?" Maddox studied Pamela intensely. I wished her luck with divining and then unwrapping that lady's mind. "I hold dear to my heart anyone's hunger to learn, honesty when it hurts and love no matter what the cost, so I find myself alone most of the time," Pamela grinned. "Above even those, I adore humor in the face of ridicule, condemnation and adversity. You can dodge bullets and parry knives. Humor always strikes home," she finished. "It is the perfect weapon." "Liar," I smiled. "You like high performance automobiles too." Did she? I didn't know. "Only with a 2X4 pressing the accelerator as it races toward the lip of a canyon," Pamela bantered back, "with Ursula K. Le Guin strapped in the back seat." "Who?" I inquired. "She's an author. I take exception to some of her work and unwillingness to appreciate the fusion of exceptional feminine characteristics with power positions," Pamela answered. "And your critique of her life's work is an exploding car at the bottom of a cliff?" I smiled. "Starting uncontrolled wildfires and littering, two of my favorite activities," she laughed. "I'll stick with blondes and brunettes, and red- and raven-haired, bald has its own appeal, green and purple have their own kink going on, " I joked. "Wait! We were talking about people being murdered and you two are cracking jokes?" Maddox rumbled. "I had a dream about tying them together with nylon cord and tossing them off the back ramp of a transport aircraft, and watching them fall, and fall," Rachel sighed dreamily. "Atta girl," I play-punched Rachel's shoulder. "What is your part in all of this?" Maddox turned to Rachel. "I'm the head of his bodyguard detail," Rachel gave her confession of the damned. "And you want to kill him, " Virginia struggled to keep up. "Given time, you will too," Rachel promised. "According to his pre-employment records, only one woman he's had a sexual relationship with hasn't wanted to at least hurt him," glaring at me, "badly." "The nun doesn't want me dead!" I vocally protested. "It is so wrong that you are proud that of over 200 women you've slept with, TWO have not, at some point in knowing you, wanted to maul you and one of those is in the 'forgiving' business," Rachel chastised me. Virginia had an answer for my madness. Her phone came out and she hit speed-dial, work. "Ms. Castello, this is Special Agent Maddox, do you have a moment?" Virginia calmly asked when she finally wrangled my current-favorite fed's attention. "You do now? Thank you. I'd like to know what the fuck have you done to me? This assignment is nuts. Either I'm part of some elaborate prank, or I'm in an S U V with escapees from the looney bin." Ten seconds later Maddox gave me the phone. "Stop it. I've upheld my end of the bargain, so behave," Javiera ordered. Man, she'd shot me straight to the core and we hadn't even slept together yet. Clever, clever girl. "Yes Ma'am," I swore. "I'll do my best to buffer Special Agent Maddox from the truth." "I'll have to accept that," Javiera conceded. "Give Maddox the phone back." A brief conversation later and Maddox was no better off than when she started. Thankfully we parked in front of the Kazakhstan Consulate in New York, giving us all an excuse to face facts. Maddox was feeling compelled to ask questions she didn't want the answers to, and that we didn't want to answer. Saved by work. "Kazakhstan Consulate? Why are we here?" both Virginia and Rachel asked. "Oh! This is going to be good," Pamela leaned forward excitedly. "Change the course of human history," I answered with a great deal of confidence I didn't feel. See, I had knowledge critical to the Earth  and  Sky. That knowledge was also something they wanted kept compartmentalized, so they might take exception to it being possessed by an outsider. Oh,  so that's why Pamela earlier insisted on four ladies being with me, so we could shoot our way out if things turned ugly. I hugged my mentor. "Thank you, Pamela." "You are coming along nicely, Mr. Potter," Pamela patted my cheek. "Your praise leaves me suspicious, Professor Snape. Besides, if I'm going to die, it helps me to know you'll go first ." "That was uncalled for," Pamela chided me. It was the 'Snape' role she rejected. "Snape gave up his life for Harry, Dumbledore died for Draco," I countered. "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," Pamela shone with joy and pride. "You act like I have a choice," I sighed. "Touché," Pamela nodded. "I see what you mean about these two," Maddox addressed Rachel. "Oh my God," Delilah laughed. "You wove Harry Potter into a life and death conversation and it made sense. I am probably going to die, but I'll die knowing I have lived." "Not you too?" Maddox glared at Delilah. Rachel just shook her head. We exited the car, settled ourselves out. Rachel took point, Delilah took one flank while Pamela took the other. By happenstance, I ended up in the middle, yeah right, with Virginia covering my back. "You stay here," Pamela put a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "You'll need to lead the team in if someone 'pumps up the volume'." Interesting euphemism for 'when people start killing people'. "What are we doing today?" Miyako 'appeared'. She'd been walking down the sidewalk toward us, the Kazak Consulate was a townhouse, but her presence hadn't registered. "I require your pledge of silence on what is to transpire. No death is intended," I stated calmly to Miyako. "I didn't know you were versed in ninja contracts, much less spoke Japanese?" Miyako responded. Blink. "I didn't know I spoke it either, " I mumbled. "No sweat," Pamela tried to hustle us along. "He's a quick study." Yeah. I didn't feel it apropos to point out I hadn't heard myself speaking Japanese, or understood that my words had some secret meaning. "How important is this to my people?" Miyako asked. Now that I was paying attention to it, I could make out that she was speaking in her native tongue. "If they don't think we can be trusted to not speak of what is to transpire for a week, they are going to kill us," I related my suspicions. "My mind and heart are joined in this decision." "I give you my pledge," Miyako nodded. She looped her arm in mine. "Does anyone care to enlighten me?" Maddox prodded. Whoa. It seemed that, beside me and Miyako, only Pamela spoke Japanese. "Special Agent Maddox, no matter what, don't give up your gun, when we say run, run, and shoot to kill because they will be trying to kill us," I informed her. "Does the term 'extraterritoriality' mean anything to anyone here?" Maddox snapped. Her nervousness was totally understandable. I stopped at the top of the steps, looking over my shoulder. I nodded. Pamela, Delilah and Miyako nodded as well. "Hold on, I can't believe I'm saying this. Does anyone have a back-up I can use?" Maddox groaned. Rachel quick-stepped forward and handed over a 22 automatic pistol then a spare clip with a smooth, practiced motion that suggested that SD swapped weapons all the time. Maddox didn't miss the casualness of the gesture. The firearm and magazine disappeared. "Fine, we will never discuss the laws we just butchered, ever, and if I die and any of you make it out alive, I will seek revenge at whatever cost FROM WHEREVER I AM," FBI girl growled. "One of us," Pamela smirked at me as I touched the doorbell. It opened promptly. We weren't on a crowded street, we were on their stoop and a security camera was pointed right at us. We were invited in and two rather Caucasian-looking gentlemen (Kazaks are a mixed bag of Turks and Cumans) were waiting with the doorman. They looked tough in that they took personality lessons from saddle leather. "You will place your weapons there," the more charismatic of the two spoke up. He was pointing to a side table that looked large enough for the task. "No," was the most courteous response I could muster. He didn't look surprised. He didn't look much like he was breathing, or blinking either. "Go," he pointed to the door. I looked to Pamela. "Well, that didn't take long," I grinned. I felt out the necklace under my shirt and pulled it over my head. "Please return this to its owner in the spirit it was given." He took it. The doorman opened the door and out we went. Rachel was back in our GL550, using the door as possible cover. She said we could take our seats and away we rolled. Maddox looked apoplectic. She had prepared herself for the Wild, Wild West, not a doe-see-doe at the door. In her mind, I had wound her up for nothing. My phone rang. "Cáel Ishara, there seems to have been a diplomatic miscommunication," a male native Turkish-speaker said in heavily accented English. "The person you are meeting must be approached in the spirit of peace." "No, I understood you perfectly," I assured him. "We aren't the Brownies, or the Girl Scouts, Buddy. I don't know, or trust you and you don't know, or trust me, yet. I will compromise though. I will respect your traditions. I will enter your home unarmed. In turn, everyone in the building will line up outside on the street except for the person I'm supposed to meet. Is that acceptable?" Pause. "Do you hate these people, or like them?" Maddox grumbled. "With you, I can't quite tell." "That would not be acceptable," the man finally responded. "Perhaps an alternative. You come in, alone yet armed." "Nope. Due to the efforts of people far smarter than me, I know pretty much who I am meeting, so I am either very rude, insane, or bear a message that is worth my life," I countered. "Your personal safety is guaranteed," was the counter-offer. "That is a false promise, not because you lack honor, or respect for me, but because you are from a wise and noble lineage with a historical propensity of cutting to the heart of any problem." By that, I meant they'd cut my heart out. "What I expect is for every one of you to hold the future of the Earth  and  Sky above any such concepts as personal promises, hospitality, and honor. I am even putting my faith in your willingness to put the survival of the Earth  and  Sky over your own well-being," I riposted. "If the message is so crucial, you should be willing to come alone," back at me. "It isn't important to me," I stated. "Listen, a war is about to break out. Unless we both want to be found all alone in the outhouse masturbating when the headsman comes, one of us has to blink. Today, it is you. Tomorrow you may be able to return the favor and mess with my head." Pause. "Your koumiss is getting warm." "We'll be right there. We apologize for the delay. Traffic is murder these days, or a close facsimile thereof," I gave a little back in the humility department. "Tiger Lily, " "On it, Ishara, Wakko Ishara. I've been circling the block," Tiger Lily had anticipated my antics. Sure, I acted like I had no game plan, but I never wasted people's time. Maybe if I developed an actual game plan I could do even better. "Wakko Ishara?" it was Delilah's and Maddox's turn to share a 'what the?' moment. "May I explain the sacred names?" Rachel requested of me. "I have a feeling these two might become a fixture." "By all means, Rachel. Our trust runs deep," I trusted Rachel with more than my life; I trusted her with my future. "Wakko, as in you're the nutty one?" Delilah made a stab at our arcane nomenclature. If you use small words does that make it gnomenclature? Pamela winked at me, psychic twin grandmother powers activate! "We need complementary rings," Pamela remarked. Sweet! "Cáel Ishara is differentiated as Wakko Ishara, Ishara, first of House Ishara, is Yakko Ishara, and, " Rachel began. "The Animaniacs? Your code names are the Warner Brothers and their sister Dot?" Maddox gasped. "You are beyond nuts." "And the Goddess Ishara is named, by House Ishara and House Ishara alone," Rachel made some warding appeal against divine punishment, "as Dot Ishara." Maddox's face shown with disbelief. "Following Cáel Ishara into battle has been one of my greatest pleasures," Rachel stared at Maddox. "I never knew insanity could be so liberating, or that laughing at death could be such an aphrodisiac." "When did you two go into battle?" Delilah wondered. "In a morgue, fighting to retrieve the body of his fallen father so that our enemies could not desecrate it," Rachel explained. Ah, the walls of Troy, fighting over the spoils of the dead. "You mean when I face-planted?" I grinned at Rachel. "Even without a weapon, your instincts were good, forcing our enemy to commit to multiple angles of coverage even though your efforts were foiled by a footing failure. Your rushing their leader was even more heroic in that you were unarmed and using your body as a decoy, knowing your enemy's superior skill would stop him from shooting you," Rachel smiled my way, sex. "Let me get this straight," Miyako finally spoke up. "You charged an enemy unarmed then stumbled and failed. They were armed?" "Yes, with a 3 57 Magnum revolver and a 10 gauge sawed-off automatic shotgun, in tight confines and close range, oh, and no cover." Maddox replied, then to me, "I read the report." "Then you repeated the action a few minutes," Miyako. "Less than a minute later," Maddox clarified. "A minute later, wow! You are as fearless as we've heard. Please don't die before we have a baby," Miyako gave me a quick hug. If you cover a zeppelin with uranium paint, can it still fly, or does it sink to the center of the Earth? Ninja babies, We had returned to the stairs at the Consulate. This time the door swung open upon our approach. "Is there some drug you are all taking to bask in this shared fantasy life?" Maddox mumbled. "One of us," Pamela retorted. "One of us." "One of us," I joined in. It helped cut the tension. The bodyguards were present right where we'd them last time. They ushered us up the stairs to a second floor sitting room that ate up half the floor. There were two men there; radiating that subtle assurance that a half-dozen killers were close by. The man standing was Iskender, the E and S emissary from Dad's funeral. I broke all decorum, strode to the man, locked arms, hugged him tight and patted him on the back. "Thank the spirits you are here," I whispered, "all this lack of dick is making me a bit stir-crazy." "Ah, yes, it is good to see you again too," Iskender imparted as we broke our embrace. His boss, the guy on the sofa, shot me and my Kyrgyz buddy a sharp look. The Main Man was clearly Mongolian and must have thought blank, white walls exhibited too much empathy. "Koumiss," the boss offered. I sipped it from a simple, yet regal drinking mug that probably hit the kiln 200 years ago. "Mare, or yak?" I inquired as I handed the cup around. Iskender came first, but it was clearly my intention that we all partake. It was more a matter of the host's pledge of sanctuary than me wanting to share the koumiss. It tasted like thin, lightly chilled, bitter beer with a vanilla-almond milk shake-chaser. "Mare, of course. Please sit," he offered. He defined the suggestion by slipping off the sofa onto the layered carpet rug. He was semi-reclined, so we followed suit. "We should pray for the protection of the spirits," was the suggestion that wasn't a suggestion. It was his itinerary. He clapped his hands and from beyond a curtained partition came this really sensual Mongolian chick carrying a large brass bowl. She flicked her eyes at me and an instant connection was formed. She liked to bark like a dog under the full moon, okay, I'm not sure where that came from. "Nice woman," I told the leader. "She looks like she has seen many winters." Whoa! Where the fuck did that come from? I got a shocked reaction from Iskender. The Leader looked pissed, if a flake of paint on the white wall indicated anger. The girl blushed like what I said was an incredible turn on. "She is my daughter," the Leader pointed out. Way past swallowing my foot. My ankle was tasty. "My name is Oyuun Tömörbaatar. My faithful Iskender, you know. This is my daughter T. Sarangerel. She is studying at N Y U and is not entertaining marriage proposals at this time," he slapped down his boundaries. Somehow 'I only want to sleep with her' didn't sound like the right response. Wait! Saying his 'daughter had many winters' was a marriage bargaining opening move. What the fuck! "What I meant was that surely many men have died trying to come before you," I back-pedaled. More happy looks from the daughter. More paint peeling from the dad. Pamela made sure more koumiss was going around. Getting drunk could hardly hurt at this juncture. Sarangeral placed the bowl between us. It was filled with clear, cold water undoubtedly collected from a mountain-fed glacier. "Let us cleanse our hands in the water so that we may speak with clarity," O. Tömörbaatar said. We dipped our fingers and, for a second, I saw him. Not 'O', but HIM. "It is good to finally meet you Ferko Ishara Cáel Nyilas," the man said. My Spidey senses told me he was feeling less 'good' about this meeting every second. "How can your people and mine better get along?" 'Let me impregnate your daughter', would probably get my skull split open. "No time for that," I replied. "I know where HE is. The Seven Pillars have found a way to search the Weave and are closing in. You must act with haste." Whether it was disbelief, or old schooled Ku Chun in the art of gambling, the older man gave no outward reaction. "Where is he?" O. Tömörbaatar asked in a gentle tone. "I can do you one better," I steeled myself for the unknown forces I was invoking. I put my hands on the bowl's lip and looked in. Several seconds later, he did as well. For a moment, nothing. It was like a ripple in reverse. The first earth tremor I barely noticed. The ripples grew and grew until I felt the whole row of townhouses would come crashing down. Wind snapped the locks on the windows, flinging them wide open and tearing at the curtains like streamers in a hurricane. Then we saw HIM clearly. HE stopped driving this old, beat-up Peugeot and was pulling to the side of a desolate stretch of highway. HE could sense something yet couldn't pinpoint the source of his unease. We definitely got the impression this wasn't his first taste of this experience, the Seven Pillars. He was young, maybe my age. He looked like an educated man turned vagabond/boundless traveler. HIS eyes, his eyes had a depth that were a microcosm of what I'd glimpsed in Ishara, Dot Ishara's unshielded glance when we first met. All lingering doubts vanished in my mind. "I know that place," O T muttered, his eyes fixated on the only feature in the vacant expanse, a road sign, in Chinese. Yikes. "I know that place." The image faded. Our meeting venue was intact. Whatever I felt transpire, I had shared with O. Tömörbaatar alone. "You have work to do," I stated as I cleared my throat. "I will leave you to it." I stood. "What do you wish for this gift?" O T reached out and touched my sleeve. "When the time comes, maybe you can help us," I replied. "A man who asks for nothing can expect anything," O T smiled for the first time. "Go." I did not take a fear-free breath until the cars started up and we pulled away. He'd let us live. Even with that priceless piece of magical insight, he'd let us live. "I'm still stunned we got out alive," I sighed. "I wasn't really sure he'd take the news as well as he did." No one said anything for a minute. "Why would he have killed us?" Delilah inquired. "You, I understand. I don't know what you communicated to that young lady, but the old guy wasn't happy about it. He was going to kill us over that?" Pause. "What did the rest of you see and hear?" I looked around the cabin. Pamela appeared worried. "I didn't know you spoke Chagatai," Miyako smiled at me. "You are full of surprise. I only caught a word, or two, and none of it made sense." "MRI," I groaned. "Magnetoencephalography," Pamela said in the same breath. "Mine is better, Boyo." "What is going on?" Rachel upped her alertness level. "We need to take Cáel to a hospital that has a Magnetoencephalography device," Pamela insisted. "He's spontaneously speaking languages he didn't know moments earlier, " Maddox put things together first. The rest nodded at her assessment. "We'll need to have his records from Havenstone sent over as a baseline." Poor Virginia, the absurdity of my life was sucking her in. "I'll call Katrina," Rachel informed us. I was a mental case once more. At least my input was still being solicited. "How many guns do you have on you?" Pamela zinged me. The answer was obvious, two. My Glock and my back-up. That didn't seem right. "Ah, two?" I responded. "Yeah, something is happening to your muscle memory as well," Pamela shook her head. "What exactly does that mean, and what's wrong with Cáel's brain?" Delilah studied the group. "It means he could spontaneously pull out his gun and start shooting us?" Pamela confessed her uncertainty. "I don't know. We'd better figure out which impulses are his guiding light right now before that happens." "I don't even know how to begin reporting this," Maddox muttered. "Cheer up. Our Cáel is still currently in charge. Did you appreciate how he lured in that young Mongolian girl? That's classic Cáel," Pamela comforted the crowd. I was saved from a straightjacket because I was a 'Playa'. (Meadowlands Medical Center in far off New Jersey) I'm not political. For me, that means I am completely and utterly dedicated to whatever doctrine that the cutest political campaigner in front of me endorses. Fifteen minutes on the internet and you can fake it like a pro. Be careful to be with the winning team when the results come in. Nothing makes a political chick go wild like sneaking into the candidate's office and screwing her on the newly elected/re-elected figure's desk. Let her scream out her idol's name. Odds are neither of you will be welcomed back afterwards anyway. Why politics now? Javiera called some people. I had a sneaking suspicion that someone I knew and trusted got in touch with my 'Aunts' as well. All I knew for sure was the Hospital's Administrator's phone began ringing off the hook and I'd become the hospital's number one priority. The hospital staff was visibly irritated with the clout raining down on their heads for about an hour. Once they digested my Havenstone records, all of that changed. Holy 'Published in The New England Journal of Medicine', someone had drilled a micro-surgical hole in my skull in the middle of a wrestling match with no resulting cerebral scarring. THEN this unknown device shot into my skull with pinpoint accuracy and pumped a ghastly amount of energy into my cerebrum. They were fascinated. They were so fascinated I heard two medical technicians mutter about where the Zombie Survival Guide could be found. They triple checked my vital signs, again. I was still as much alive as when I checked myself in. There was a rumor that a fire ax disappeared from a stairwell close by, but not one confessed to the deed. I was speaking in languages I had no reason to know? They were surprised I could contain my mouth drool. It was somewhat disheartening to hear three seasoned physicians discuss what probable scenarios could explain me still being in a non-vegetative state,  or alive for that matter. Some poor nurse had to ask. "Do you feel an unnatural, interest in human brains?" she whispered when she though no one was close by. "I'm not sure what you mean," I whispered back. "I always respect a woman's intelligence. Sex is a cerebral passion. What's the point if you can't communicate with your partner?" Pamela slapped me upside my head. That disturbed just about everybody else in the vicinity and my mentor was promptly exiled from the room. I was curious about what havoc she was perpetrating on this establishment. My condition had gotten her past all the heavy security and I knew without seeing that someone high ranking had misplaced their ID badge. Maybe Pamela was the love-child of Batman and Cat woman. Before you think that's comic fanboy talk, recall what my life was like at that moment. Tests ensued. The staff decided that Havenstone employed a bunch of quacks and snake charmers. Two hours later, they found out they were wrong. Larger battery of tests, same results. I was the second coming of Christ, back from the dead, or a zombie living in a convincing state of denial. Some folks wouldn't let that go. Pamela had proved to be prophetic. Her pet gizmo finally provided a new picture of what my neural pathways were up to. If there is any doubt, 'I've never seen that before' is not what you want to hear one of North America's experts in the field of neuroscience say. The first educated opinion was that I suffered from chronic traumatic encephalopathy, that meant I was hit in the head a lot. Normally that diagnosis comes in the midst of an autopsy. I was having paralytic seizures. They had me juggle a squeeze-ball, then two and finally three. My perfect performance frustrated them. Women find relatively simple carnival tricks to be seductive. Pluck a card from a girl's bra gets you both to some dark corner, hungrily looking for the rest of the deck, I speak from experience. Next up at bat: 'I was possessed', I shit you not. Holistic medicine was right on board with the team. Was I influenced by a supernatural power? Yes I was. So claimed the majority of people on Earth. Did I receive specific instructions? Yes, and so did practitioners of Voodoo/Vodun on three continents. I added that I attempted to evade said instructions when I could. Did I have 'evil' impulses to hurt myself, or others? Huh? For starters, my matron goddess was more of a 'fucker' than a 'fighter' and her instructions were always suitably vague, the same way a Philosophy professor would give you a ten word pointless sentence on Friday and expect you to have a 250 page doctrine on Monday morning. That hit home. Too many normally smart people take a philosophy class in college hoping for an easy-A. Some teachers love dissolving those delusion, sitting back and watching your hopes and dreams of task-free weekends go down the drain. The more obscure the discipline, the more perverse the desire. That is why you always pick a teacher of the opposite gender (if in doubt, use a gay/lesbian test) and keep 'sex for grades' on the menu. Was I suffering from optical illusions, or phantom noises? Straight to the point, yes, I saw and talked with ghosts. So did the Long Island Medium, the casts of Ghost Hunters, Paranormal Witness plus George Anderson and Chip Coffey. To my credit, I didn't do it for profit, or in order to influence people. Was I seeing ghosts now? I was in hospital, so odds weren't bad. I had every non-ghost raise their left hand. No ghosts. Was my paranormal dementia pre- or post-brain trauma? Did seeing a college student being called before his class and successfully accused of plagiarism on his senior thesis, turning him into one of the Restless Dead count? No? My 'disputed' abilities were all post-college employment, thank you very much. Did the ghosts possess me/tell me to do things? I was not possessed and, discounting sexual bondage and my current work venue, had never been possessed. From my limited exposure, ghosts wanted to not be alone in the afterlife, to be guided to a final resting place with others of their kind/family/friends. None had taught me languages, asked me to steal something, or kill anyone. Had any done so, I would have denied them. Such actions were immoral and I could still freely differentiate between right and wrong. I preferred to commit wrong on my own initiative and making me do good was a chore most sane people abandoned after a few days. I took a Rorschach test. The results were predictable because I had taken old 'R' several times before. Just like every other time, I'd mixed up sexual innuendo with a psychological test to seduce the test-giver,  everything reminded me of intercourse. I changed it up with this girl. I gave her numbers. Sometime after I was long gone, they were going to figure out the ink blots were numbered after whichever erotic positions from the Kama Sutra I was reminded of at the time. I knew that wasn't being helpful and I was certain I wasn't a brain specialist. I also knew Rorschach wasn't the key to solving my woes. Final remaining hypothesis, I was utilizing 30 % of my brain capacity with three independent patterns emerging, not the usual 5 %. For that to work, my brain had to be oozing out my ears because brains generate a terrific amount of heat. My temperature was a steady 37.3 C (99 F) and my ear channels were free of obstruction. Hey man, cleaning your ears is quick and easy. Don't risk turning off a date with misfortunately located ear-hair and wax. How was my brain shedding the heat? Their solution, let's do a Spinal Tap. No way. I'd seen that band and they were all extremely fucked up, even for old guys. I wasn't going down that road. They insisted. I suggested that I consent to the procedure with the condition that I received no pain killers/sedatives of any kind and I got to grab and hold onto the testicles of my two, current, least favorite doctors. When they realized I was deadly serious and immovable on the issue, they came up with a new plan, no Spinal Tap. Gutless sissies. Into this vacuum of information, a brainstorm emerged (besides my inexplicable one). They would talk to me, no more interrogations, an actual verbal exchange. They couldn't come over and start flapping their gums like some punk rock band with no talent. They were suddenly worried about 'concerning' me and 'agitating my unstable state'. I pray to Goddess Ishara that one day soon they play back the tapes of their early hours working on me and pay close attention to my facial expressions of shock, horror, fear and depression as they clearly and openly talked about me as if I was the Fiji Mermaid. But hey, a few of them were kinda cute, so in the final analysis all that emotional trauma worked its way out. Hospital highlights: (Understand, I was lying on a table while various specialists prodded and talked about me as if I wasn't there. To strike back at reality, I throbbed my penis every time this cute Parasitologist looked at it. Finally ) Female Chief of Neurosurgery: "Did anyone think to study changes in is body's nervous system?" (Guilty looks all around) Neuro Surgeon: "What are all these needle marks?" Havenstone Medico, "Those are muscle stimuli insertion sites. They kept his musculature from atrophying while he was in a coma." Neuro Surgeon: "Let me get this straight. This man had a lightning bolt go off in his head and part of your healthcare regimen was to run a constant current of electricity throughout the rest of his body." (Scathing looks at the Medico from everyone else, jackals) HM: "He has retained excellent muscle tone." Neuro Surgeon: "Have you even taken the Hippocratic Oath?" HM: (offended) "Of course not, he's Greek." Neuro Surgeon: "What does my patient being Greek have to do with anything?" HM: "Not him (pointing at me). Hippocrates, he was a Greek. Cáel is Magyar/Irish Gaelic." Neuro Surgeon: "Helpful, that's not. He seems to have a great deal of bruises and scarring, some of it certainly received over an extensive period of time. Is this your work?" HM: (in a positive note) "No. It has not been my pleasure to spar with Cáel yet." Neuro Surgeon: "Isn't he a bit, big for you?" &

Crashing Lightening and Rolling Thunder. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “You will never appreciate having to follow a difficult order until you have to give one.” (Late, late Saturday Night) Had I been alone? There are few perks to a solitary lifestyle. One of the few is the freedom from others; and by that I mean you don't have to decide if you care about people you don't know. You are free. Your emotions are free, your decisions are free and your time is your own. Selfish in the best way. Libra took my keys after we arrived at my apartment building and raced ahead to make sure that Timothy and Odette, if either was awake, would be forewarned. Casper clung to me as she always did. Estere took the lead since I also had to do pack mule duty. Brooke carried the few things that were beyond me. The rain was turning from a drizzle to a downpour. Odette had a friend over; a female acquaintance. Timothy; Timothy was in the middle of a very successful date night. Now I had the joy of being an auditory spectator in my domicile's sexcapades. "Shouldn't she be taken to a clinic, or something?" the friend blurted out. I didn't know her enough to decide if she was nervous, flippant, or secretly cruel. Casper dug in tighter. I had to dump the luggage to deal with her heightened anxiety. Libra, Brooke and Odette picked up the slack while Estere soaked in the ambiance of my dwelling. The look she gave me was one of amusement and intrigue. This was hardly the lair of the one and only Amazon Prince. It was sublime and comfortable. It had a nomadic quality she found familiar. Being in a fortress has its comforts. Being in someone else's fortress is far less comfortable. Estere was quietly accounting for every knife, mallet, or other potentially fatal piece of housewares. Brooke, Libra and Odette were already ordering and organizing my life ;  what did they need to get and how would they get it? "So; you are Odette's; friend," the unknown woman stated. Snapping at her was unduly unfair to Odette, who put up with mountains of my insane lifestyle. "Yeah, that's me. Cáel Nyilas; self-made troublemaker," I confessed. "You?" "Delilah," she answered. "What happened to her?" Casper flinched. "Nothing that being reminded about what a wonderful friend she is won't help heal," I cautiously responded. "She is hanging out with me and some friends for the weekend." "Cut it out, Delilah," Odette sighed. "Who are you really, anyway?" Delilah was smooth, I had to give her that. "Odette, what do you mean?" Delilah stood up. "Delilah, or whoever you are, I'm not such a wonderful person that people I've known two days come home with me," Odette lectured. "Now, I kept you here until you could meet Cáel, so why don't you return my courtesy and tell us what's going on?" Odette was keeping Libra and Brooke in my room thus out of play. Timothy climaxed. Good for him. Out in the living room, Delilah made a stutter step. She was frozen by Estere's silenced weapon pointed at her. "You were spotted by a rank amateur," the Hashashin noted. "Who are you with?" "You people are nuts," Delilah flushed with panic. Nice touch, but that panic didn't reach her cold, calculating eyes. "Damn Delilah," Odette shook her head. "You need to watch more television. BBC America has this nice drama called Orphan Black where the exact same thing happened. I knew you were lying to me in twenty minutes. I was nice enough to not bring the Death Squad across the street over to deal with you. They wouldn't have cared whether I was being paranoid or whatever. They would have dragged you out and killed you on general principle. You owe me." "I don't know what's wrong;” Delilah got out. There was a rapid knocking at the door. Shielding Casper behind me, I backed up in that direction. "Last chance," Odette looked at Delilah sternly. "That's the Death Squad." Sure enough, I checked and it was two Amazons in full gear. I opened up and the two edged in around me. "Ishara; status please," the leader asked. "Estere Abed is a diplomat for her Protocol faction, there should be records of Brooke and Libra on file and Odette belongs here. Casper is behind me; special case. That woman," I motioned to Delilah, "is of unknown origin." "Miss, lay down on the floor, on your stomach; arms out to your sides," the leader brought her UP-40 up, aimed at Delilah. "This is insane," Delilah sounded really frantic. Not in the eyes though. "Lie down, or three rounds in the chest," the Amazon team leader related calmly. "Last chance." Delilah decided that she wasn't cut from a fanatic's cloth. She went down like a pro. The two Amazons closed in. I spotted the third of the four woman team at my door, keeping watch. The two inside efficiently bound her hands behind her back and patted her down for weapons; none. "She is in violation of the truce," the leader pointed out. "Should I dispatch her now?" "Wait!" Delilah squawked. "I'm supposed to keep an eye on him and protect him, not hurt him. Fuck, don't kill me for this." "Who are you working for?" Estere came closer. Delilah hesitated so both Estere and the number two Amazon drew their knives. "Fine! Fine. All I have is a name and I'm only supposed to tell him," she pleaded. There was a moment of uncertainty. "She'll tell us," Estere knelt beside Delilah. Now Delilah's panic was real. "Wait," I stated. I motioned Brooke and Libra to move around the crowded room and comfort Casper. "Well," I sighed as I went on my hands and knees beside Delilah's head. The Amazon leader had her hand on the woman's head, pressed tightly to the ground. "Sibeal," Delilah whispered. Mom. "Do you have any way of contacting this person?" I asked. "No. It is not how I work," she said and finally I caught it. The accent. I looked to the leader. "Look at her hands and tell me what you see," I asked the Amazon. I went back to resting on my knees. "Hard; callused from repetitive weapons practice. Short nails. She's very fit," the Team Lead kept up the examination. "I apologize Ishara. She's a soldier." "Let her go," I commanded. The Amazon only paused for a moment before cutting her bonds. Delilah moved cautiously as she moved to a cross-legged position. "You don't have to answer me, but I'd appreciate some honesty. You're English. Would that make you MI-5, or MI-6?" It wasn't as huge a leap as it looked. Who could Mom trust? In this case, a government operative would actually be safer for her and she had to have decades of Illuminati information inside her head. Delilah had one reason to be honest; her mission. "MI-5 is counter-intelligence," Delilah grinned as her British accent came out to play. "M I 6. S I S is foreign intelligence. I'll let you figure it out." "Good enough," I stood then helped her stand as well. "You can stay; starting Monday. I need a break, okay?" Delilah nodded. "Deal. Now do me the courtesy of telling me why I'm here?" she asked. "Love. Deep, abiding love," I looked right into her soul. Crisis averted. Delilah 'agreed' to go with my guardians to 'work things out'. Delilah was curious as to why they called Cáel Nyilas; Ishara. She also congratulated Odette on figuring something was up. Odette told her not to feel bad about it; reference all the psycho bitches that showed up in my life. Brooke headed out to gather some more belongings for herself and Libra because; my vote not even elicited; they were going to hang close to Casper and I for a few more days. Libra and Estere headed out to that authentic Italian pizza joint I'd taken Libra to earlier since my food stockpile was abysmal and the neighborhood was far from safe this late at night. Odette took Casper to my bedroom so that Casper could talk with her parents in Delaware. Timothy and his date emerged from his room. It was Sovann Mean, who I had met before and gotten along with. It took me all of two seconds to figure out what had happened. Sovann had asked Timothy out because Timothy never thought Sovann was interested in him. Sovann was a second generation Cambodian-American and had this stoic demeanor he raised up whenever he was nervous, ensuring Timothy's confusion. "Hey Cáel," Sovann smiled at me. "Still being good?" That was code for me being 'straight'. It still weirded me out a bit; Sovann was a serious weightlifter, like Timothy and I, but a head shorter, so he looked stockier than he really was. When he smiled, his whole face lit up too. It was the Khmer 'twang' that always sounded out of place to me. "We will not discuss the number of women who were here mere moments ago," I joked wearily. "Timothy, I apologize for coming back early; shithead-intervention shut things down in the Hamptons." "No problem, Bro," Timothy came and gave me a man-hug. "With your newfound wealth, we may need to convert the sofa to a sleeper-sofa," Timothy semi-joked. "Oh yeah, and that girl down the hall; when I told her your father died, she baked you some cookies. They're in a tin by the toaster. They really are pretty good, too; walnut and caramel chip." That sounded tasty. I guessed that meant I finally had to meet the women. Sovann came up and fist-bumped me as Timothy went for the refrigerator. The doorbell rang. I wondered who had forgotten what as I swung the door open. Lighting exploded outdoors, our lights flickered and thunder shook the apartment. It was Uncle Carrig. As the old song said 'he looked like a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of pieces gone'. His eyes wore a harried, feral look. His bellow, as he charged, rolled over me like the amplified heartbeat of a hellish primate. I had no time before he was on me. Down we went. I tried to push him off of me. His suit was soaked with rain and blood, some of it had to be his own. In his right hand he held a dull aluminum cylinder with a metallic suction cup on the bottom. Sovann kicked Uncle Lumpy in the side of the head. Inflicted on a normal man, that would have driven him off me. Lumpy released his hold on my shoulder and backhanded Sovann. The Cambodian went flying in the direction of the sofa despite getting a leg block up. I had a flash of Timothy going for his home deterrent system, aka the crowbar. Odette began yelling. The cylinder was coming down. Carrig's left grabbed my chin, fixing my head in place. I opted to use both my arms to stop his right, and the device, from coming down. I bought a little time. Timothy's blow came down on Lumpy's left shoulder, weakening the hold, but not enough. The device slammed into my forehead. I felt a burning pain as a portion of the flesh beneath the cup was flash-fried away. More pain, then a little pressure and finally nothing. In those seconds before my mind spun out of control, I had the oddest sensation there was something inside my brain. Searing agony; existence lost all meaning and I was gone. (One week later) They say pain in the brain is illusionary. Of all your nerve cells, only a tiny fraction are devoted to pain. The rest do the important work of keeping your body functioning. The brain is on top of it all and it has better things to do that register pain; or so I was told. To be somewhat fair, what I felt wasn't exactly pain. It was the sensation that something was crawling around inside my psyche, doing something. Sharp, tingling jolts shocked my body parts at regular intervals. Painful in their own way, yet not so much I couldn't concentrate. I opened my eyes. The lights in my room had been dimmed, but not enough that I couldn't see the six ladies standing about; doing nothing. I recognized my present lodgings as Havenstone Post-classical Modernism (total lie; I'm not an interior designer). The six ladies turned, looked at me, then closed in slowly. A staring contest was in the offing when two people entered the room from the door at the foot of the bed. It then occurred to me that little sonic indicators on the machinery surrounding me were chirping loudly. One woman was a physician's assistant I knew from an earlier bout at Havenstone Medical. She had performed CPR on me. The other woman; she was the senior-most recruit from my father's graveside service. She looked positively grim. My dry throat requested some water then I attempted to rise. A problem instantly revealed itself. I was strapped down on my bed. The ankles, wrists and a neck/head brace kept my movements to a minimum. There was a side benefit to this imprisonment. That body-wide jolts? My body was wired up to a system that had needles piercing my muscle clusters. Amazons prided themselves on being physically fit and their tolerance for pain. My muscles hadn't atrophied during my; coma and the price was this constant, low-level pain. I still wasn't sure that was the reason I was bound. The PA maneuvered a plastic bottle with a spout to my lips and gave me a brief squirt. A few seconds later I got another and then a third. "Okay," I rasped. "What's going on?" "You have been in an unresponsive state for 7 days, Ishara," the 'senior' told me. "Why are you here?" I coughed. "I mean, why aren't you on the job?" She blinked. "Your life was imperiled so we decided that five of us would be around to monitor you and keep you safe," she answered. "What's with everyone else?" I huffed. The two looked at me. The quiet six were of no help. "Fine, what are you ladies doing here?" I asked the women originally in the room. No answer. "Ishara?" the PA worried. That was when it dawned on me that the two and the six weren't interacting on any level. "How many people are in the room?" I asked my housemate. She paused. "There are three of us, Ishara. You, me and the attendant," she answered. "How many people do you see?" "Well shit," I muttered. Then the first of the six spoke to me. Actually, she mouthed to me. It took me a moment to realize she was giving me her name. The next one started. "Device," I snapped to the 'senior'. As she hesitantly reached for hers, I began rattling off the names. When the sixth one gave me her name, the group dissipated into the ether. "Who are these women?" 'senior' requested. "Find out," I sighed then, "It is important." She nodded. Now that the specters were gone, the mortals began to come in. Right off the bat, I was confirmed in my status as "prisoner". They wouldn't free me when I requested it and they made no attempt to conceal their hostility to my fellow Isharan. The agenda was decided without me; they were going to check me out mentally, then I was off to see Hayden. Why was I imprisoned? My brain was a maelstrom of activity across a broad spectrum of regions and lobes. What had happened? They didn't know. The suction cup had stabilized the tube which was really a firing mechanism. When the device was able to detect and aim for a specific part of my brain, the longitudinal fissure, it shot a rod three-quarters into my cranium. A laser had burned through the skin and skull with surgeon-like precision so a barb of unknown construction could go deep into my brain. Then it 'detonated'. That was one of the problems the medicos of Havenstone were facing. The device had been so badly damaged when it unleashed its energy that they could no longer divine its function. What they did understand was that while my neural network was going super-nova, it wasn't killing me. They leapt on the idea of mind control. That theory sounded pretty lame to me, but I was the one tied down, with one ally in a room full of people bred to mistrust all males. The next approach; was I sane? The PA offered that I was seeing phantasms. 'Wait'. "Go," I directed the senior. "Take care of the business I have given you then tell Buffy and Helena what you've found out. You are wasting your time staying here." She nodded and left. It was more "common sense" rather than any sense of my leadership that made her leave. But that done; I concentrated on the entirety of the message so that it settled upon my soul. I relaxed, shut my eyes and let the world float by. It took them a minute to notice my noncompliance; any positive contribution on my part had slipped so far down in their expectations. "Ishara?" one of the SD chicks inquired. I opened one eye, then shut it. There was nothing to be done. "What is he doing?" that Amazon asked a physician. She, in turn asked me. I took a deep, cleansing breath and continued to ignore them. "There is nothing wrong with him," the physician noted. "He is being childish." That went beyond disrespectful. As a quirk of Amazon society, they had left me my knife strapped to my arm. To take it would have been an insult my tiny house could not have borne; essentially declaring me incompetent. I was heading that way, but not yet. That didn't stop them from deriding me until a lull finally developed. For a moment, I thought I was alone. I was intrigued by the words suddenly aimed my way. "Mr. Nyilas?" an unknown female inquired. I opened an eye. Woman; bad suit; and a badge. What the fuck? I was in Havenstone. "Special Agent Virginia Maddox with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I'd like to ask you a few questions," she began. "Okay," I cleared my throat, "as long as we are clear I am one misstep away from invoking my Miranda Rights." She worked that one over for a second. "Do you know why your uncle attacked you?" "Honestly, I'm curious as to why I'm still alive," I tried to shrug. "Carrig and I never got along, if you consider when I first met him we fought and the second time he stabbed me in the forehead," I explained. "How long did you and your uncle fight; the second time?" she asked. "Um; six second," I guessed. "How is Lumpy doing, anyway?" "Lumpy?" "Uncle Carrig." "He's dead." "Seriously; fuck. What killed him?" "We are working that out. He was beaten, stabbed; by three different blades, shot 67 times by five different firearms, only two which we have recovered," Virginia stated. "We also think he was hit by two cars, one dump truck and a subway." "Well; yeah; Uncle Carrig was looking a bit rough when I answered the door," I confessed. Lumpy had to have been on a freaking quest to go through all that to get to me. Subway? He was hit by a subway and walked away. Most people barely leave a recognizable corpse. "How are Odette, Timothy, Casper and Sovann?" I recalled. She looked at her phone. "They are mostly fine. Casper Winslow was taken to the hospital in shock and was released to her parents," she said. "The other three were taken to the Emergency Room, treated for minor injuries and released," Virginia informed me. "The other four women were a more delicate manner." "Four women? Could you be more specific?" "Your bodyguards." "Could you be more specific?" "For a person with supposedly limited financial means, a lower income lifestyle and a humble background, you appear to have a small army hovering around you, high society friends, and lawyers who are on a first name basis with Supreme Court Justices," Virginia noted. "Lady, half-way through Day Two on this job, I almost gave it all up and biked my ass down to Terra del Fuego to live the sane life of a paranoid recluse," I sighed. "Why didn't you?" "Cause I'm an idiot. I was hoping a crackerjack investigator like you would have figured this out by now," I grinned. "How do you know I'm any good at my job?" she sent a sultry lip twist my way. Yes; pinned to a bed I could still attract the ladies. Having hundreds of little needles in me made the prospects for a quick sexual romp unlikely. "Javiera chose you for this assignment," I told her. "You have to be a woman because this is Havenstone and you have to be clever because this is a lunatic asylum." "Touché," she acknowledged my above average mental status. Next came a list of names. It took me a few seconds to focus on them. "Oh, what happened to them?" I inquired. "What makes you think anything happened to these people?" she parried. "Oh, I'm betting Javiera gave you a list of names and there is only person left alive out of that group," I felt introspective. "I wonder where Anima is hiding." "What happened to those people?" she persisted. "I don't know. I've been napping for the past week, but I'm betting they all met nasty ends," I told her. "Why were these people murdered?" "Were they murdered, or are they merely deceased? See, if I give you my opinion, you will have to pursue that line of inquiry which will only hurt one person who has already been hurt enough and save somebody who shouldn't be saved," I explained. "Why do you get to determine who gets saved?" Virginia pressed. "As opposed to who? You and Javiera? That's laughable. Why don't you go down the net worth of the families of those unfortunate corpses, then tell me how balanced your justice system would be? Please understand, I don't hold you and your profession in contempt," I met her hardening gaze. "To prove to me that I'm wrong, all you have to do is honestly tell me that high-priced lawyers, legions of specialists that confuse juries and enormous bank accounts to keep the appeals going indefinitely while the guilty roam about on bail equates to the legal process working fairly and impartially," I reposted. "That's not the same thing as;” she got out before the door opened and several people traipsed in, including three SD personnel. Last came Troika and she was coldly furious. "I was promised more time with Mr. Nyilas," Virginia protested. She was ignored. "Ishara, you are coming with us," Troika snapped. To be fair, the medical attendant wasn't overly torturous as she pulled out the muscle stimulatory aids and applied the bandages. It still sucked. That was ameliorated somewhat by the read I was getting of Troika. I waited for the last restraint to be removed before speaking. "I refuse to go with you," I stated firmly even as I sat up. See, I needed something to happen that was beyond my ability to obtain. "Take him," Troika directed two of the SD babes. My captors had gone out of their way to make sure these Amazons weren't ladies I knew. "Stop," I declared with authorities. "You cannot touch me against my will as that violates Hayden's ban on me entering blood feuds and wrangling me anywhere against my will constitutes a blood feud in Ishara's eyes." "It is Hayden's order," Troika snapped. "Has she lifted the ban? If not, these ladies will be breaking Hayden's decree." Troika harrumphed then gave Hayden a call. For the purpose of this meeting, the ban was lifted. That was what I needed so off I went. I waited until we got in the elevator and were heading up before launching my strike. Pamela would have been so proud. If Troika had given me an ounce of dignity, I couldn't have pulled it off. As it was, the first stab took her just under the left eye, the second punched through her cheek and spitted her tongue. The third nearly severed her upper lip and then the SD were on me. "Blood Feud!" I screamed. "You stole from me!" Troika was about to come back at me, knife in hand. One of the SD got in the way. What I had done was illegal; blood feuds needed to be approved; except for one tidbit of law Pamela taught me and it was about to come into play. "You cannot wound him while he is in our custody, Troika of Šauška," the Amazon protested. Troika gargled something through the ruin of the left side of her face. "I will peel off a meter of your flesh for this insult," she managed to oozingly communicate before we reached the top floor. For my part; "Unhand me." They didn't. "Unhand me, or am I no longer Head of House Ishara." "Do not attack her," the SD leader stated. "Would you care to explain to me why you are giving me that order?" I mused. "Please, Ishara," the woman ground out. "Do not attack Troika of House Šauška." "Very well. I pledge that from this point until the end of this meeting, I will only act against Troika in my own defense," I promised. "Now give me your sidearm." "You may not bear a weapon in Hayden's presence," the SD leader reminded me. "I asked for your weapon, not your legal advice," I insisted. Another shot of bigotry. "I will not. You are not acting rationally," she stated. Troika snorted. That was okay, because I saw an excellent substitute close by. My deviation from the group was so casual, they barely noticed. I wasn't making a fast break to nowhere. I walked up to the wall and, Vranus be praised, yanked one of a pair of matching battle axes off the wall. Support studs went flying. Like all weapons in Havenstone, this one was real. The SD closed ranks, boxing me in. "You may not bear a weapon in Hayden's presence," the SD leader was at the end of her patience with me. "You are incorrect," I glowered. "There are two occasions I may bear a weapon in proximity to the High Priestess. One is in defense of her person. I am not here to defend her." Harder than any kick to the head; they paled then the anger set in. "How dare you?" the SD leader seethed. "The proof of the necessity of my action stands before me right now; an Amazon defying a House, a First Ancestor and a Goddess on her own initiative and in defiance of everything her ancestors fought, bled and died for," I glared. "Give me the axe," the leader insisted. "No. You will have to fight me for it," I made my stand. She was about to do just that when one of the others spoke. Tears were slowly eking a way down that one's cheeks. "Step away from Ishara, or I will kill you," she told her leader. "You are wrong and Ishara is right though it sickens me to admit it." To add to the macabre, one SD trooper aimed at my 'savior' and the fourth aimed at the third. Civil war. "You know what he plans to do," the leader stated. "It is not our place," the second Amazon insisted. "I cannot face my ancestors letting this abomination pass." "He is the abomination," the leader persisted. "No. The abomination is any full-blooded not of the Council deciding what the Council will and will not do. We now know there were once male Amazons. By the will of our ancestors it was so. Never before have we, the elite of the Host, acted as if we knew better than they," the second Amazon said with righteous conviction. "Go," the leader mumbled softly. The woman on the verge of killing her was most likely a close and trusted friend. Grappling with that sudden rift between sisters was occupying her mind at that moment, not my escape. I moved around her, keeping out of the line of fire as best I could and went with Troika to Hayden's portal. I didn't thank the woman. That would have been insulting because what she did, she did for her people and the hundred thousand that had come before her. Finally we rolled out the Old Kingdom Hittite/Amazon. "See what you have done," Troika hissed. I didn't bother to reply. I was sure, dressed in light green scrubs, I cut a valiant and imposing figure. "Cáel Ishara, what took you so;” and then Hayden saw it. For a second, Saint Marie almost cut me off. Katrina stood up. She wanted to stop me. In her mind, Hayden was one of our allies, but, as I had told her, she (Katrina) didn't get it either. Madi, Beyoncé, Fatima and Krasimira were also present and now highly disturbed. "Take yourself to the cliffs," I announced clearly as I dropped the axe on Hayden's desk. She had stood at my final approach and bore hate my way. "The Goddess Ishara rejects you and has taken herself from the Temple. House Ishara has lost faith in you. Your insults are lengthy and I do not feel like wasting any more time with you." "How dare you?" Hayden spat. "All the times I have shielded you and this is how you repay me? You were a mistake from the beginning." "A mistake we can rectify right now," Fatima snarled. She rose up and drew her knife. "Excuse me, but didn't we gather here for a different purpose?" Krasimira mused softly. "Kill him and end the curse," Madi growled. "Oh; in that case can you kill me first?" Krasimira sighed. "I see no need to postpone the continuation of my chat with my mother." At Krasimira's age, her mother was most likely dead. "Krasimira, you cannot defend him!" Fatima wailed. "Defend him? I am not standing in your way, Fatima. I do know that the statue of Ishara fractured and fell into two pieces in the Temple," she related; certainly retelling information they already had. "House by house, we see nothing but the back of those who fought before us. Five of my augurs had shorn their hair and thrown themselves into the fire. I can do nothing except report what I have witnessed. I cannot appeal to Ishara to lift her curse. I hope one of you can because if you can't and you kill her CLEARLY designated heir we shall all go down to ignoble ends," the Keeper of Records remained serenely poised as she delivered her doom-laden news. "By the way, Troika, what happened to your face?" "He stabbed me," Troika burbled. "Let me kill the bastard." I half-turned. Saint Marie interposed herself between the two of us. "Cáel, lift the curse," Saint Marie demanded. "Lift your damn curse," Fatima and Madi chimed in. "Cáel, lift the curse and then we can discuss things," Hayden tried and failed to sound humble. "If every woman in this rooms fatally slits their own throats in the next fifteen seconds, I'll plead to Ishara to lift the curse," I said. There wasn't a headlong rush to commit suicide. The only one so inclined was Krasimira. I motioned her to stop. "Well, I think we are done here. I have to go and try and cobble my life back together. You ladies have fun pulling off your 'Thelma and Louise' final act while I figure out some way for House Ishara to survive the upcoming war," I shrugged. Of course they didn't let me leave. Fatima on one side, the Golden Mare in the middle and Troika on the other. She had to be in a shitload of pain. "Lift the curse. If we are going to war, we need to be whole," Saint Marie urged me. "No." "Why should I stop these two from killing you right now?" she glared. "Because he is an Amazon," Krasimira muttered. "You should need no better reason. Ah; this is why we must die; thank you Cáel Ishara," she concluded. "A terrible sadness has gripped our people for as long as I have been Keeper. I found it lurking in the shadowy corners of my office when I was elevated. I now imagine it haunted my predecessors for some time as well. At least I will pass on knowing the name of our assassin." "The assassin is right here," Fatima spewed her hate at me. "You are correct," Krasimira chuckled. "The assassin is indeed in this room. Its name is Amazon. I need a moment, please." She stood and walked to the doors. What she wanted didn't take long at all. "Gun," we heard her request. The magazine fell to the ground. The sole bullet did not follow. Krasimira walked tenderly into the office as if every step tore like fishhooks at her flesh. "Take yourself to the cliffs, Hayden," Krasimira intoned as the one-shot pistol fell on Hayden's desk. "I no longer know you." Krasimira took in the whole room. "We show anger when we should show humility. We are proud of our shame. We are arrogant of our weaknesses. We have heaped insult upon insult on our ancestors yet are now aghast that they turn away from us," she shook her head. Her gaze settled on Saint Marie. "I am not one warrior alone, but one of a thousand warriors who have fought before me'; isn't that part of the oath of every member of the Security Detail swears?" Katrina fell to her knees. "Please Cáel. Please save us," she begged me. Something was very wrong with that. "How dare you?" Fatima howled at Katrina. Instead of being ashamed, Katrina's supplicant's face turned first into a grim grin, then one of gallows laughter. "And that is why we are all going to die," Katrina declared as she stood once more. "We are too proud to ask a man for help. We know what Ishara's curse is doing to us. You clearly don't care. You would rather die than admit that our damn ANCESTORS have placed a male here and now. Open your eyes!" she nearly screamed. "They sent a MAN for a reason; to open our eyes before we kill ourselves." You scream 'what gives him the right?' Ishara gives him the right. Nothing else matters. What I am asking you is 'what gives you the right to reject Ishara?' because that is what we have done. How could she make her will any more plainly obvious to us? Cáel has never stopped trying to save us and you two want to gut him like a lamb, or (to Saint Marie) break his body. Hayden, I will not place my rejection upon your desk. You have been as much a mother to me as my actual birth-mother. I love you. Since we first met, I have only wanted to make you proud of me and serve your will. What has gone wrong? How have we come to this? You were the one who told me we had to find a way to save our race; and now, when it stares us in the face; Why can't we accept it? How have I failed you, Hayden? What did I do wrong to not prepare you for this moment? It was my duty to keep you informed in all things and I can find nothing to excuse my failure," Katrina had gone from disappointed to heart-broken. Katrina prized herself on being able to stay ahead of any crisis. Here, at her greatest challenge, she hadn't been able to help her friend and mentor survive this calamity. I imagine that was the final blow for Hayden. Katrina had risen up through the Havenstone system as Hayden's protégé and had given Hayden her all. "Until this moment, I have never considered myself a coward," Hayden murmured. "You are blameless Katrina. In the final analysis, I sacrificed my courage for my life. And now I have neither. I can regain my courage here at the end and be true to the duties I was given," Hayden's resolve strengthened with each word. She took out a piece of paper and created a list. "Saint Marie, on this list are traitors to the Host. Gather these Amazons and prepare them to challenge my accusation." Saint Marie stepped forward, took the paper and quickly read it. "Hayden, this includes a third of the Council!" she gasped. "I am well aware of who I have accused. Please see to my final command, old friend," Hayden sighed. I could see a terrible weight lifted from her; the cliffs. "Final;” Saint Marie and Katrina groaned. "Yes. I will dine tonight with my family, then take myself to the cliffs with the dawn. I feel that will be a good end for me," Hayden mused. "Will Ishara forgive me, Cáel?" "No Hayden. It is not her way, but I will. There will be a place in Ishara's halls for you. I pledge you that," I suddenly felt a sorrowful pit in my stomach. Into that romantically tragic scene, Krasimira snorted with amusement. Eyes turned to her. Hayden shook her head, held up a hand to forestall the Keeper until she rounded the desk and left her office for the last time. "Who is on the list?" Fatima stormed up to the Golden Mare and looked over the list. "I am on this. So are you Troika," Fatima growled. "This is insane. We'll destroy Hayden over this; this; piece of filth." "I don't care if I'm on it, or not," Madi seethed. "I'm with you." "There is a small manner of little known law you may wish to be aware of," Krasimira chuckled. "The ruling of an honorably deceased High Priestess may not be challenged." "You two are under arrest," Saint Marie whipped out her pistol. Being with the SD, she was allowed to be fully armed in the High Priestess's presence. "What do you mean?" Fatima looked to Krasimira. "Cáel has killed you all and he didn't even mean to," Krasimira gave a dry chuckle. "By his act of kindness to Hayden, which I now think Hayden was counting on, our former High Priestess goes to an honorable death; taken into the Halls of Ishara in death. Unable to challenge Hayden's decree, you are all going to be executed and your names stricken from the rolls. You will wander aimlessly for all eternity while Hayden will live in the company of her sisters thanks to a man and his love for someone who was clearly his enemy," Krasimira kept snorting at the dark comedy. "Your sole avenue of spiritual survival lies with a man you tried to kill mere moments ago." "This is insane," Troika shouted and came at me. The room exploded with the sonic resonance of a pistol firing. I may have imagined it, but it appeared the bullet took Troika at the juncture of the right eyebrow, nose ridge and right eye. Whatever the entry point, the 45 ACP slug painted the wall behind her with her grey matter. Saint Marie turned quickly on Fatima. "Troika wasn't on the Council, so I could kill her for attempting to murder someone who was. I can't kill you immediately, but please believe I will put a bullet where it hurts if you don't do exactly what I say," the Golden Mare menaced. The debate was truncated by the four Security Detail ladies storming the room. Orders were dispensed and the wheels of Amazon society burst into motion. A side effect of my stunt was I had put Saint Marie in charge until the full Council could meet to create some sort of Regency Council to pilot the ship. There was zip gratitude aimed my way on her part and I didn't blame her one bit. I was headed out before things got too organized. I wanted some 'me' time. "Cáel Ishara, we have not resolved the matter that brought us to this disaster," Saint Marie growled. I was at the door. I looked over my shoulder at the Golden Mare, turned back toward freedom and saw Pamela. "Shoot me," I told Pamela. I was grappling with the horror of what I had just said when I returned to the darkness. MOTHER-FUCKER! I hate women! (Mutter; mutter; mutter) I became aware of my hazy, fugue-like dream state. Sadly, it was familiar and undoubtedly going to become even more familiar while I lived. "Upset with me, Cáel?" she asked. "You had me tell my friend to shoot me; yeah, Ishara, I'm a little cranky right now." "The question was rhetorical. I can read your mind," the Goddess snorted. "What happened to me?" "She bounced a bullet off your skull. You'll be okay. I am the Goddess of Medicine after all," she reminded me. "From an era when trepanning was popular. Color me unimpressed. Oh; and I apologize." "You will get me the fortune cookie next time," she lilted. Something crucial occurred to me. "Hey! I haven't had sex in a week. That hasn't happened to me in four years." "I don't think you are ready for that stage of our relationship yet," she tickled my nose. "Wait; did you just put me in the Friend Zone?" More laughter. "Seriously," I sighed. "Hayden?" "I forgive you," she soothed me. "Forgive me? I killed her. That is not okay. Wasn't; " "No, my Cáel. We are a blood-thirsty society and the ultimate mistakes are answered with the ultimate punishments. I cannot fully express my pride in you for what you did, even in opposition to my will." There was a pause in our relationship and conversation. I thought she sensed my turmoil and aided me in finding some level of peace. With her kind of entity, I would never be sure. "What did Carrig do to me?" I asked. "I don't know." That was not what I expect. Evasion; yes. The ugly truth; no. "I find the concept of an omniscient, omnipotent deity to be self-defeating," she mused. "Sort of negates the whole Free Will thing," I bantered. "Besides, what is the point of beseeching a being that already knows what's going to happen to you and would have saved you if that is what they wanted?" "Yeah," I groaned sarcastically, "I much prefer the divine ones who randomly fuck with your life because they can, rarely provide useful information and won't even put out on the second date." "I know this will cause you pain yet I will say it anyway; I love you." Yeah; I was suddenly wishing Pamela had missed and hit me between the eyes. "Very well, what can I do for you that would make you happier?" Inside of second. "Clever boy. Are you sure?" "Yes." "Done. I can no longer read your mind." A few seconds passed. "This is annoying. Is this what it is like dealing with me; this 'not knowing'?" "Yes and you proved it by the way," I murmured. Several more seconds. "This is really annoying me. Pick something else." Pause. "What does it prove?" "You love me," I grinned. "Love without freedom is illusionary. Freedom of thought is the basis of hope and hope drives all endeavors." A long pause. I was a bit curious about what was happening to my body. "Please." "No." "I could give you a divine gift; speak in tongues; regeneration; long life?" "Nope. Not happening." "I still love you." "Now I can say I love you and know I mean it." "That's unfair; clever and insightful, but unfair," she teased me. "What about the curse?" "Re-forge my statue at the Temple and the curse will be lifted. Be your regular creative self when you do so." Pause; divine sigh. "I need to send you back now. Oh, and make love to the first woman you see. It is important." "What? Why is it im;” and I felt the weight of my body and the throbbing of my temple. (Augurs don'ts and don't give a fuck abouts) I didn't want to open my eyes; really, truly, deeply. I had been dared by both guys and girls to pick up a certain female at a variety of events, even when they came with company. I'd done it because I'm that kind of low-life. Being pre-ordained to sleep with some chick felt wrong to me. It was cheating. I sincerely wished she hadn't been touching my face. Yes, someone was running their slender, feminine fingers over my forehead, eyebrows, eyelids, nose; yadda. "Ishara, I must speak with you," the strange woman implored. My eye movement had given my wakefulness away. I pried open my lids and looked up into the face of a living ghost. Her skin was albino pale with obvious veins and blue capillaries beneath the surface. Her ocular orbs were a deep milky white, with a tinge of light blue. I could barely make out the pupils. Her hair was whiter than Pamela's. From the structure and musculature of her hands and face; it was as if a perfectly healthy human woman's body was in a constant frantic battle against death. My senses expanded to embrace more of my resting place. I was in Katrina's office on the sofa. Katrina was not present. Buffy, the 'senior', Pamela, Rachel, Krasimira, the super-pale chick and two House Guard I didn't recognize were nearby. Despite my head throbbing to the beat of fiendish jackhammers, I managed to sit up. This upset the lady touching me as my movement broke our contact. "Ishara?" she pleaded. "That's it. From now on its Yakko Ishara, Wakko Ishara and Dot Ishara. Let's end all of this confusion over this 'which Ishara are we really wanting to talk to?' bullshit. So, what do you want?" I groaned. "I'm claiming the 'Yakko' spot, by the way." "Ishara?" she pleaded again. Was she protesting me taking the oldest Warner brothers' spot? Yeah, I was the youngest one of the pseudo-divine trio, but I absolutely owned the role of smart-alec. "She is an Augur," Krasimira explained. "The poisons she takes to put her in a receptive state to the ancestors, goddesses and the spiritual currents of the universe leave her blind and deaf to the mortal world. She communicates normally, but needs to be touching your lips to know what you are saying. Her name is Tadêfi and she has a message for you," she finished. "Give me a sec," I put my thoughts together despite my pain. Buffy shoved a glass of water and three pills my way. I downed them gratefully. Buffy was clearly distressed. I was getting the crap kicked out of me a lot and, in theory, it was her job to stop such things from happening. "Buffy, we couldn't have foreseen Carrig coming after me the way he did. He slipped through the seams of very good security," I tried to comfort her. "Pamela shot me on the Goddess/Dot Ishara's orders. She can only communicate with me when I'm in a near-death state," I said. "I have a new mission for you." I needed to keep her mind busy with things other than me. Buffy was action-oriented and I was giving her a doozy of a task. "Obtain at least five of the bullet casings from the battle that took my Father's life. Give them to Krasimira. They are to be melted down with the original statue and recast into a new symbol of the Goddess. We will be a melding of the old and the new," I ordered. Yes, I was sacrificing a priceless ancient artifact for a current political agenda. I'm reprehensible. Kimberly would be ashamed. "Now, who were the women whose names I gave you?" "They are all deceased 'Runners', Ishara," the senior told me. Oh; that made sense. "Tomorrow we induct them into House Ishara," I stated. "Ishara, they are dead," senior repeated. "Do you believe the souls of Amazons go to the houses of their ancestors after dying?" I posed. That took a few seconds to soak in. My almost albino was getting truly distressed so I took her hand and put it on my lips as I asked the latest question. "Oh;” the senior and Buffy both muttered. "All those 'Runners'; their spirits wander aimlessly for eternity bereft of companionship and a place to call home," I told them. "That is a crime," I continued. "Even as Ishara moves forward, we must be honest about our past. Those women earned a place in the Host. They were unduly denied their promised afterlife and we will start rectifying that tomorrow." Their looks broadcast their interpretation of my declaration: I was a wonderful child who had won first place for our team at the State Fair. Now that she was back in the communication loop, the augur calmed down. "You have a message for me?" I 'asked' her. Halfway through, I stopped enunciating. "Yes, Ishara. My dead sister stepped back through the flames and told me you;” she began. "No; stop," I told her. "Everyone leave." They honored my wishes and departed except; "What are you still doing here?" I asked the House Guard who remained. Now that I had a chance to study her, I realized she bore the same cuneiform designation as Krasimira. "I am her guardian. I am always at her side," the woman explained rather heatedly. She was certainly not a fan of the man in mankind. "By all means; have it your way. Augur, your message is unimportant. Write it down and have it sent out as a memo for everyone in Havenstone to read. Someone may tell me about it. I'm horrible with my e-mail, so I probably won't read it myself," I growled. This shit stopped now. I stood and made to leave. The augur swatted out and grabbed my arm when she hit it. "Ishara, you must;” and I lightly slapped her face. The guardian drew down on me. "How dare you?" the guardian seethed. "I am thinking the same thing; 'how dare you?'" I rumbled. "How dare you decide what messages she does, or does not, deliver?" "Tadêfi has something important to tell you," the guardian growled. "Augurs died to bring you this message." "Clearly the message isn't important enough for you to leave the room," I countered. "I took bullet to the head so I could talk to the Goddess Dot Ishara." I was going to enjoy calling my matron pain-in-the-cranium that. She was probably less amused. "I'm about out of patience with you smug, delusionary superior sluts demanding things from me as if you weren't my underlings," I glared. "Get with the program, or get out." Though I had told her to get out, I was the one leaving. I needed clothes, a shave and a chance to get my bearings. I didn't need those two. Tadêfi tried to speak again. I put my hand to her lips to stop her again then raised her hands to my lips. "I do not want to hear what you have to say," I related. "If you try to tell me what you have been told, I will purposely ignore it and cut out your tongue for your insolence. Your sisters died in vain because your guardian has decided what you say is not worth her leaving the room for us to talk in private. Sleep well with the dying screams of your sisters' agonies echoing in your mind and know your fellow Amazons have wished this fate upon you. Good-bye." "How; augurs are sacrosanct and their messages are rare and crucial to the Host," the guardian sputtered. "Didn't know, don't care and could care less what you think is crucial for the Host," I sighed as I started walking away. "What is happening?" the augur wailed. "Her visions are lacerations on her soul," the guardian howled. "Does her pain mean nothing to you?" Those two had to be incredibly tight, the guardian watching the augur scarred and worn down by the task she had been chosen for; and not being able to help. "Not enough to keep me here," I answered at the door. "She's your buddy, not mine and I have a plateful of unhappiness already set before me." I opened the door. "Is there a problem?" Krasimira inquired as I stepped out. She had a guardian too. Pamela was also close by and strategically placed to dispose of said guardian. "Her bodyguard told me to ignore Tadêfi, so I am," I muttered. I hurt. The pain-killers had yet to kick in; and I'd just come out of a coma. Fuck'em. If Ishara wanted me to nail that girl, she was going to have to step up on her level of assistance aimed my way. I accepted that she had her limitations, but so did I. "Cáel Ishara, is that precisely what she said?" the Keeper was being diplomatic. "No; what do I call you?" "Krasimira, Cáel," she answered. "I do not believe it was Tadêfi's intent to be ignored. May I mediate?" "No," I replied. "I will talk with Tadêfi alone, or not at all. Quite frankly, half the time you women open your mouths, I want to kick you off the roof of this building. Either I see some damn humility; your words, Krasimira; or I carry on the Amazon tradition with Ishara and her legion of former 'Runners' while the rest of you are throttled by your pride." Do note that the Executive Services floor was very active and several members heard my statement loud and clear. "May we please try this meeting one more time?" she requested. Her bodyguard nearly choked on Krasimira's gentle, conciliatory tone. "I could not consider myself an Amazon and deny the Keeper's suggestion on this matter. Let's give it one more shot," I conceded. All I was asking for was 'nice'. I wasn't deluded into thinking Krasimira was suddenly my fan. She was simply acting on the enlightenment that her ancestors and goddesses had revealed. We headed back into Katrina's office. As with any divine direction, she knew she had two choices; harm, or heal. She had accepted responsibility that to heal her people, the spirits had chosen a male. Liking me had nothing to do with it. Being true to her oaths and nature as an Amazon were the acting forces here. Amazons survived, first and foremost. They feared nothing, not even change. Her fellows had denied the need for change based solely on pride and Krasimira recognized that now. Back in Katrina's office, the guardian was trying to calm her nearly hysterical charge. I would have been much happier if we had been more alone. The room had become crowded with ghosts during my short absence. Krasimira, who was following, bumped into me. "Ishara?" she whispered. As unfortunate as that was, Tadêfi's blind eyes following the fixed stares of all the ghosts in my direction was worse. I squeezed my brain for an appropriate bit of trivia that would put my depression on its ass. There was this movie by M. Night Shakalaka-ding dong (or something like that) about a boy who saw dead people. The hero; the man trying to help the boy; he turned out to be a ghost as well who didn't figure that out until the end of the flick. But, it got better. Using the numerous ghostly gazes like searchlights pinning down an escaping convict, Tadêfi ran right into my arms. That was a pretty remarkable feat; a blind girl in an unfamiliar room covering four meters flawlessly. But, it kept getting better. All the ghosts started to yammer, clambering for attention. Tadêfi began to weep piteously. I had to wonder if this was Ishara's penalty for keeping my mind free of her meddling. No one else seemed to understand what the fuck was going on. Krasimira was the augur wrangler, not in tune with the spirits herself. She was also the Supreme Litigator, which necessitated her being able to interact with the mortal world on a constant basis, so I couldn't hold her lack of spiritual mojo against her. My instincts were telling me that screaming and yelling was pointless. The cacophony was incredibly vexing, but I could deal. Tadêfi couldn't. I was looking at this dilemma from the wrong angle. Instead of taking on the hundreds, I would take on the one. I placed one of the augur's hands on my lips then placed my hands over her ears. My hope was that since I could interact with the restless dead, my flesh could act as a buffer to their insistent beseeching of us for recognition of their numerous appeals. My first song was one of the melodies sung to me by Oneida's kin while I fought off her Death Pledge. Bit by bit, a tiny fraction followed by the greater whole, I pulled Tadêfi back from the brink of insanity. Eventually, she began mumbling a different refrain into my chest. "My ears work better than my lip-reading," I chided her playfully. The ghosts hadn't stopped their pleas for attention. It was the sonic and tactile sensation of my song upon her fingers and the fluctuation of my lungs in pushing forth the music that allowed her to focus on her mortal coil. As we sang together, eventually with her teaching me a few new ballads, we shut the world out. Once our shared reality collapsed down to just the two of us, the babble diminished then finally faded away. "May I relay my message now?" Tadêfi requested. "No, we have to have sex first," I replied. Whoops; shit-storm. What followed was a blur. "I can't have sex," Tadêfi murmured. "The touch of a man would corrupt me." Plus. "She is an augur," her guardian declared firmly. "She must remain a virgin." Plus. "Cáel Ishara, augurs cannot be;” Krasimira's tongue became tied. "You go, Tiger," Pamela tossed out there. "Tadêfi, where are you right now?" I began my rotation of responses. "Why does she have to be a virgin? And, thanks Pamela. That was less helpful than normal." "I aim to disappoint, Cheetah," Pamela smirked. I couldn't see her face, but I knew she was. She; Tarzan. Me; Cheetah, the Immortal baby chimpanzee. Just what I needed. "It is the law," the guardian moved to separate us. "She must not be touched by a man," Krasimira stated. "Not having intercourse is implied. If she has been corrupted, why did the spirits continue to surround her after Cáel's touch?" "Keeper, this cannot be allowed," the guardian changed her focus. "I agree in that this is your choice to make," Krasimira countered. "Without knowing the missive, you must decide what your charge may, and may not, do. Your oath is to her personally, not to me or any other entity. Consider what the task of guardian truly is before deciding." The convoluted decision: what was the chief duty of a guardian; the message, or the messenger? The augur could convey urgency yet was powerless to act without the guardian's permission. She had to trust her guardian with the basics of life. The guardian; she had to trust what could not be sensed, or even fully understood. "Why; why this condition?" the guardian returned her gaze to me. I could have been a dick. "Dot Ishara told me to have intercourse with the first woman I saw when I woke up," I said. "If you hurt her, I will kill you," the Amazon threatened. "First off, Tadêfi, would you like to fool around?" I might want to get my potential sex partners permission before proceeding. You know; not be a rapist. "I don't know what you want, but if this is what we must do," Tadêfi acquiesced. "First time sex is going to be painful, so be prepared," I cautioned both young women. "If you;” the guardian repeated her threat. "Cáel, you should give daily thanks I don't leave a trail of dead bodies everywhere you go," Pamela declared with malicious menace. "So many pretentious bitches; I tell you, my ability to tolerate your forgiving nature is being sorely tested, damn it." Wow, was that totally ass-backwards, or what? As a side note to life: I was going to receive a serious beat-down the second my sexual tryst ended. Two pernicious women: Buffy; I had been damaged by someone who wasn't her. There was no way she'd forgive me for that. And Pamela; I had sent Estere away to escort Libra instead of keeping the assassin close. Without a doubt, I had taken Pamela away from some odious errand conducted on my behalf, yet without my knowledge. Yes, some serious torment was headed my way. Back to the girl at hand. Back to being the 'me' I wanted to be. Oink! With torturous reluctance, the guardian made to leave. "Wait," I called out. "You can stay if you join us." Yes, I was angling for a three-way with a women who wanted to make line drives with a five iron using my nuts for golf balls; and the blind and deaf girl. I couldn

On this slowly sinking episode of the Shut Up & Sit Down Podcast, Tom and Matt are chatting about a cluster of small games they've played recently! Tom's got the cosy, tile-laying pairing of Middle Ages and Flower Fields, whilst Matt brings novel Oink releases Deep Sea Adventures: Boost and Souvenirs From Venice to the table. Have a great weekend!  Timestamps: 03:33 - Middle Ages 10:59 - Souvenirs from Venice 20:21 - Flower Fields 26:49 - Deep Sea Adventures: Boost 36:23 - Lord of the Rings: Duel

Women making bad decisions. Cáel to the rescue? What? In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “There is nothing wrong being a Lucky Bastard. It is wrong to rely on it.” They were all psychopaths and murderers after all, so death was becoming a vocational hazard. Me refraining from having as many sexual liaisons as possible wasn't realistic. I wasn't going to be willingly castrated and that was the only way out. The one benefit I could see was me working in a target-rich environment. "Now that I have had my turn stymieing Cáel's chaotic yet well-meaning attempts to educate us in the dangers and rewards of free-ranging masculinity," Tessa regarded the assembly, "I am getting out with my victory intact. Good luck, Sisters. You'll need it." Tessa exited, order was restored and; oh yeah, Elsa had brought me here for a sadistic love-fest, sans the sex. "I don't know what to make of you," Elsa smiled warmly, "I don't understand you and I find you to be very interesting." Let me make this clear; all three of those statements can be very bad, or very good. 'I don't know what to make of you' means I want to make it with you. 'I don't understand you' is 30% bad and 70% good. When bad, it is a prelude to a break-up. What she means is 'you aren't trying to understand me', thus the end of the relationship. On the beneficial side it means 'I've totally bought into your seduction and I'm ready to screw'. Ah, 'interesting'. Two types of women find a man 'interesting'; women who have to have you, and stalkers. Somewhat redundant. The main difference is how they respond to the Restraining Order and how much fun the erotic side of the relationship will be. The first kind of woman has a public screaming fit if you take out a RO on her. Let them build up to an incinerating level, then fuck them; it's so worth it. Stalkers ignore ROs. That's okay. Now you can legally trap them. They'll do whatever you want. Not because they are afraid of you. It is an RO for God's sake; one night in jail, maybe. No, they'll do whatever sex act you request because that's why they are stalking you in the first place; the sensual/emotional connection. When she starts making bizarre requests of you, subtly direct her to another 'more interesting' guy. Try not to use a friend. That's kind of cold. For the next few weeks, make sure the latest victim doesn't end up as a Missing Person. After that, you've done your civic duty so you can move on guilt-free. "Elsa, I need ten minutes to stretch first," I requested. She nodded. Off came the shirt. I retreated to a gymnastics mat and began stretching out my kinks. Five minutes in, I did one of my favorite maneuvers; the backwards human bridge completed when your wrists touch the Achilles tendons. Not only does this extended your abdominal muscles, it exhibits your hard-on and suggest all kinds of pages from the Kama Sutra are, in fact, possible. My performance highlighted my musculature, flexibility and numerous scars. My left thigh still had a light bandage wrapped around it. Whatever the Amazon medics were using was working gangbusters on me. Elsa had retreated to her end of the mat so I glided to my axes then promptly got off the mat. I didn't trust any Amazon, not even Aya and I'd let my heart be cut out if it would save her life. I got the feel for these axes, spun them around a few times then made to get back on the mat. "Put the loops around your wrist," Elsa directed. "Why?" I retorted. We were back to 'why are we letting a male question our orders.' "You are not allowed to throw them," Elsa allowed. I nodded. I didn't loop them. No, I walked onto the mat, weapons held axe-head down. I walked in five steps, knelt and placed the axes on the mat by my side. "Cáel, defend yourself," Elsa stated firmly. "Which is it? Do I defend myself and I act in a manner allowed by axe-work, or do I accede to your demands and be automatically defeated?" I responded. "Do you believe my spear technique is that superior to your own, made-up style?" Elsa smirked. "I think you are cheating. Worse, I think you are being a bully. If you want this to be the 'Elsa is a Bad-Ass' show, congratulations, you've won. I'm not going to fight you. I kneel before you, weapons on the mat, acknowledging that your cheating ways have defeated me," I mocked. "Savor this magnificent victory." "Your opinion of my martial prowess is not what is at question here today," Elsa spoke. I stood up, turned away and walked off the map, interrupting the rest of her speech. She was coming for me this time. I opened my towel, took out my phone and began texting away. "What are you doing?" Ngozi rumbled. *Buffy; job complete. Need to shower before next mission in queue* I hadn't hit 'send' yet. "Please correct me if I'm wrong. This was supposed to be a weapon's exhibition. That implies a study of your opponents training and capabilities. Elsa's prowess, along with my own, are the question here to today," I insisted. "Otherwise it is a waste of time for every non-sadist here." "Is it absolutely crucial that you throw an axe at Elsa?" Traska questioned. "No. It is absolutely crucial that Elsa fight under the handicap that I might throw an axe," I instructed her. "It changes the range dynamic. If I can hit her from; oh, five meters out, she has to keep close. If she has to keep close, my axes can engage her hand-to-hand." "Since Elsa chose a long spear, throwing it is clumsy, thus reducing her options," I stated. "Any range over six meters and she can probably dodge, or deflect, my throw. So we are both range limited, as it should be for a good exhibition." "I bow you reasoning," Elsa gave me a respectful nod of the head. Fucker; she liked me more, not less, despite my verbal reticence. We went to our corners. I charged first. Oh God; Elsa was super-great at spear. Less anyone forget, the spear has not only a sharp point; it also has a 20 cm bladed surface on each side plus a sold, oak shaft for blocking, poking and smacking. Elsa swung the spear around her body in lightning quick arcs. She could fight long shaft, or short shaft, as the range dictated. Long shaft was like fighting a dagger on a stick; cut and thrust. Short shaft was mainly thrusting, but was good for holding me back if I got inside her 'long' guard. Elsa's advantages were life-long experience, tons of natural talent, and being quicker than me. Our staminas were evenly matched. The drain of Elsa's fluid style equaled my two-weapon use. I had her in bulk and brawn. Elsa and I were at the top of the spectrum for our respective genders; physically and mentally better off than the majority. This meant I had her on brute strength and reach. That was genetics talking. My only other advantage was the uniqueness of my style. Elsa hadn't faced it before, though I'm sure she'd watched Constanza and Crewe's fight with me on video. Elsa figured out quickly that a left-handed battle axe made a poor shield. It covered far less area and took more energy and concentration for the assaulted to defend themselves. As soon as she put that bit of knowledge into her arsenal of tricks, I showed her another one. An axe is an axe, and when she slapped that spear against my guard one too many times, my right-handed axe chopped into the shaft, severing the spear blade from the rest of the spear. This was the point where an Amazon would have pressed the attack. I was deciding to take as little of a beating as possible. I fell back, knelt and put my axes down. There was a hush. "Elsa, do you wish to retrieve another spear?" I inquired. This was an exhibition after all. Actually, this was Elsa proving she was better than me, but she a script to stick to. "To your starting place," Elsa commanded. "Get some water." I picked up my axes and withdrew; backwards. Oneida had crept around to my side. "I know what you did this morning," Oneida gave me some water to drink. "It was very clever of you to send me away for my safety. It makes me adore you even more." I reached out with one finger and poked her nose. "You're silly," I sighed. "No," she giggled like a school girl. I was going to Hell for this one. "You are an 'Ash Man' reborn. I read about it." I had no clue that was and Elsa was waiting. The rest was pre-ordained. I got a few light cuts while not leaving a mark on Elsa. I scored major points by disposing of Elsa's second spear though I lost both axes in the endeavor. She swept my feet out from under me, I rolled away from her follow up kick and quickly went to my knees, palms flat on the mat and head lowered. Only the mentally handicapped would have thought I'd won any part of the martial contest. I'd drawn the first time. My ability to defeat Elsa with the equivalent of a staff was undecided. I had been disarmed and disarmed Elsa the second time; technically a draw, but it wasn't. Why? Because Elsa had been trying NOT to kill me, or even injury me (too much). I had been doing the same. If by some calamity I'd killed Elsa, I would have been lucky to fall on my own axes before the crowd butchered me. No, mine had been an amateur effort. I had missed Elsa mostly because I never got close. Elsa had to hold back from slicing me up and running me through. Elsa walked right up to me; I mean Right up to me. She tapped my head, indicating I should look up. There was her cunt maybe 2 inches away with only her skintight shorts between us. "As this demonstrates, we need to continue to work and update our styles," Elsa addressed the throngs. "Cáel put forth his usual exceptional effort; for the gifted amateur that he is." "Thank you for your attention today, my sisters," Elsa concluded. End of lesson. Traska picked up her medical kit and came my way. Oneida and a half dozen other Amazons closed in as well. Elsa didn't move a millimeter. Her fragrance wafted in my face. When Traska tried to shift me around so she could better access my wounds, Elsa stopped me with her hand on my head. Traska found it odd for a second then they all clued in. Elsa was making a statement. This wasn't Amazonian mannerisms coming to the fore. This was throwing down a gauntlet; Elsa's intention to win this competition; me. Amazons were inherently competitive, being tested and testing themselves against previous achievements and each other. Before Buffy opened her big mouth an hour ago, any contest for me had been a joke; the whole 'hunt me down in X-number of days'. Buffy had beaten Elsa to me. You don't get to be a 3000 year old secret society by letting one setback force you to admit defeat. No; Elsa was stepping up her game. The amazing transformation that had confused the women around us was that, according to Elsa, my opinion suddenly mattered. Buffy had made a point of me finding a way to be with her. My choice. Better yet, I'd made my choice to be with her while my life was on the line. Once again, 'I laugh at death' is an incredible turn on. Elsa hadn't changed her stance about men being armed. She was letting me train so she could summon me whenever she wanted me; unless Katrina put her foot down. Katrina wasn't going to do that often. Elsa was a useful subordinate and Katrina finally had her test dummy; me; on the firing range, which she had wanted all along. Katrina is scary-smart. You don't think so? Who kept throwing me and Buffy together knowing of the Buffy/Elsa rivalry? Who approved my sex weekend with Buffy? Who approved my firearms training once she had Elsa's endorsement? As you might recall, that was something Elsa swore she'd never do, yet here we were; a male being trained with firearms at Havenstone. Katrina didn't know when I'd figure out a way to sleep with Buffy, but she had faith in me that once I got to know Buffy, I'd figure something out. I'm far easier to read than the US Tax Code, or the Affordable Care Act. I liked sex with women, I liked being seen as a good guy, I liked trying to be a good guy; roughly in that order. Katrina knew that. I didn't particularly mind being used by her either. That was her job; to protect the security and integrity of Havenstone. Now Buffy was happy, Elsa was letting me train and by dint of my outrageous behavior, I was assisting Katrina in her plot to restore stability to the traditional Amazon bloodlines. Traska slathered this synthetic goo over my lacerations. It stung, but it aided in the healing process and was flexible enough to barely restrict movement. I winced and 'stumbled' forward face-first into Elsa's crotch. My nose ridge pressed deep into her camel toe, certainly pushing down on her clit. "I apologize," I said softly. I didn't move. Elsa didn't see fit to move me, even with her hand still in the hair on the top of my head. "Finished," Traska sighed. "Let me help you up," Oneida jumped to my aid. She helped me stand, but Elsa didn't seem to mind. Getting out of the gym alive was easy. My heartfelt pledge to myself to never return was futile. Sweaty chicks hang out at gyms. As a kid, I played D and D. If I was a Ranger, gyms would be my favored terrain. Okay, maybe bars then gyms. Fine, rock concerts, bars then gyms. I almost made it to the locker room. Coming from the other direction; the non-blooded gym; was Felix. "Hey Felix," I greeted him. Here I was with several fresh wounds and ten steamy ladies who all appeared to have a definite interest in my physique, if not my well-being. Felix was alone. That would not do, not for a man like Felix. "What happened to you?" he asked. "Figure-skating accident," I lied. "It seems I'm clumsy on ice." He didn't buy if for a second. "Oh; maybe Brooke can help patch you up tonight," he grinned. Asshole. The only flaw in his game plan was that the chicks around me didn't give a rat's ass about outsider women. They certainly weren't going to be jealous of them. "Good idea," I nodded. "Where are my manners? This is Oneida, Elsa, Traska and; well, I can't say I've been able to catch everyone's names yet." The unknown women didn't bother introducing themselves. Why? Felix was only a male. They had no immediate need of him, so they didn't bother being civil. Felix was an Alpha's Alpha. He didn't give up that easily. We made it to the showers. Buffy, having not worked out, waited by my locker. Mystically, Elsa appeared in the showers at the exact same time as me. Felix was right behind her. "Felix Melena," he offered his hand to Elsa. She shook it then went back to showering. "I'm better than Cáel." Elsa gave him a quick sneer. "What gives you that idea?" she murmured. "Why don't you let me prove it," he turned to face her, giving Elsa the complete Felix Melena aesthetic. He was a centimeter, or two taller, I was maybe three kilograms heavier and we both lavished attention on our bodies. He was perhaps a bit longer, but narrower down there. As long as it wasn't aimed at my mouth, or ass, I didn't care. By the lack of reaction in Elsa's body tempo, she didn't care either. "If you were a team bodyguard and an assassin appeared to be trying to kill myself and Hayden, who would you protect with your life?" Elsa posed. "I'd kill the assassin," Felix came back immediately. Felix was a winner. "Cáel?" Elsa said. "Hayden," I responded. "I'm a bodyguard. From the top down; protect, secure, return fire." "Cáel, you are trained as a bodyguard?" Felix smirked. "Nah. That was the common sense answer to the question she asked," I shrugged. Shampoo time. Felix was going to make me pay for that comeback. "Felix, would you ever work at Havenstone; off the clock?" Elsa continued. "Yeah," he grinned. I know what he wanted to work on; off the clock. Good luck, you bastard. "Cáel?" "I'm never off the clock, damn it," I snorted. "This job is a 24/7 crimp in my sex life." "Bro," Felix coughed. "Be careful. That's close to sexual harassment." Btw, Felix was serious. He was actually cautioning me. See, me being deported meant he couldn't crush me. "Elsa, would you please shoot me in the head?" I replied. "No," she smiled warmly at me. "I love you too," I said, dripping with sarcasm. Felix's eyes bugged out for a second. "That, Felix Melena, is why Cáel is a better man than you," Elsa looked like an angel sitting in judgment of Felix, finding him flawed and substandard. "Cáel joking around makes him better than me?" Felix mocked. The mistake here had to be Elsa's. "Your lack of understanding is not my problem," Elsa dismissed him. "Cáel, wash my back." "Fine, I'll do it, but I'm massaging your ass too," I groused. "Get it over with," she sighed with exasperation. "Damn. Felix; day in, day out. Always washing naked women. This job is killing me," I muttered. Felix wasn't one to give up easily. By the time I had totally soaped up her back, ass and upper thighs; back and front, he had exited the field. He caught me exiting the locker room. "Cáel, why don't we go out for some drinks after work?" he offered. Ah, he was going to beat me up with Brooke. "Sure," I agreed. I'm a dog. Felix was going to sleep with Brooke to show me he was the superior male. He was going to rub it in my face. I hadn't told anyone about knocking boots with Brooke. It wasn't their business. Felix would crow it to the Heavens, because pissing me off was what mattered, not how Brooke felt. I couldn't even save Brooke because Felix was in her socio-economic group and she'd make the same mistake with him she'd made with Trent; thinking they cared about her.  (Monday later) Buffy had finally dismissed me when Katrina summoned me to her office. Ignoring me getting into an altercation; in the Full-Blood gym; yet again, I had a good day. No property damage, lost items, or physically damaged employees. Ragged by most people's standards, but a good day for me at Havenstone. I still had a chance to walk out under my own power. Katrina motioned me to come to her desk. Upon my arrival, she slid a tablet over to me with a single icon on the screen. I tapped it. Aya's face appeared as the vid-mail began. She was glowing. There was tent fabric in the background so I had no idea of her geographic location. I didn't care. "Hey!" she squeaked. "I'm doing great at camp. I met three girls who are as small as me and we've formed our own squad; the Fatal Squirts." I chuckled. I had encouraged her to steal strength from her perceived weaknesses. She had to believe in herself then take that as she built up her skills. I had faith in her when no one else did. "I showed some of my councilors a picture of you. I think you would get into trouble if you came here. I want you to come, but I thought it was only fair to warn my favorite bed-buddy," she giggled. "Send me a message when you can. I understand there will be a delay as the messages have to be physically delivered. I know you are doing okay. If not, hold off your vengeance until I can return and guard your back. I love you, Cáel. Be well," she smiled as her picture faded into darkness. "Ah damn," I whispered. Aya looked good; confident, upbeat and spirited. "Katrina, can I make a message for her right now?" I begged. "Of course," she gave me an approving tilt of the head. "I think the courier is still in the building." "Cool. What do I do?" I urged. "Use the webcam; make a message and forward it to my computer," Katrina told me. "I'll take it from there." I made the message, pretty much updating her on my latest exploits with limited editing. Aya was a surprisingly innocent yet worldly 9 year old. Much of that came from being Katrina's and Desiree's niece; mainly Katrina's. It gave her access to tidbits of sensitive data from time to time. Not so much she was a real security threat. Enough so that she got some things confused; like what sex was truly about. I felt in my soul she'd be a great Amazon one day. I didn't remind her of that much. She had enough pressure for a kid her age. "You are seeing Oneida now?" a frosty voice unnerved me. It was Buffy. "Fuck," I jumped up. "Damn Buffy, stop sneaking up on me like that, or I'm going to start thinking you are a stalker." "I am stalking you, Einstein," Buffy menaced. "I'm glad we got that out of the way," I rolled my eyes. "Oh look! It's Daphne coming to my rescue. I am so out of here," I exulted. I edged passed Buffy, slipped her attempt to grab my arm and raced for the 'new hires' at the elevator. "Get back here, you Cock-sucker!" Buffy howled as she chased me down. May miracles never cease. Daphne, Violet and Tigger formed an Amazon (I wasn't sure if I could consider them 'human' yet) shield between my frail form and the hulking brute that was Buffy. "Calm down, Buffy," Daphne pleaded. "He fought Elsa today; again." "Get out of my way," Buffy snarled. "Thank God you stopped her," I huffed to Dora. "I hope to she never finds out that I soaped up Elsa's entire body while we were sharing a shower together." Daphne turned and gave me an incredulous look. "Cáel, you are a Dumb-ass," Daphne sighed. Looking to Buffy as she stood aside. "Have at." "Are you mental?" Fabiola chimed in. The elevator doors finally opened, Buffy shoved me in and the rest of the posse followed. Helena joined us at the last second. "He's taunting me," Buffy responded to Fabiola while using her middle finger to poke my chest. "At this rate I am going to have to devastate a dozen male escorts so I can make it the remaining the 69 more days until he's mine again." "Is he really that good?" Paula wondered. Buffy twisted around to confront her. "He hammered me so hard, I thought he'd dislocate my hips. Later, we spent an entire hour, naked, wrapped up in each other's bodies with no actual penetration; touching, tasting and whispered affections," Buffy curled her lip. "He's better than you could possibly imagine." "You realize we have 27 seconds left, right?" I reminded Buffy. "Really?" Buffy's head snapped back to me. I nodded and she jumped my bones. She had her hand down my pants, pulling on my rod, and the other grabbing the back of my head to deepen our kiss. For my part, I had my left hand on her breast and the right down the back of her pants, fondling a panty-covered ass cheek. In a culture where you summoned a male, ordered him to perform and he did so the same exact way he'd done a dozen times before, what Buffy and I were doing didn't make sense. The two of us didn't give up an ounce of control yet meshed perfectly. Our pleasure was obvious, vocal and we didn't give a damn about the crowd around us. Buffy and I had created our own little lust-bubble. The chimer went off. We settled down and straightened up our clothes. "Fuck it all; that's some good dicking," Buffy mumbled. That was an inside joke between me, Timothy, my big, gay, buff tattoo-artist roommate, and the few women he chose to share that descriptive with; 'a good dicking'. We tumbled out of the elevator. "Is he always like that?" Fabiola mumbled. "He's a whole lot better with his clothes off," Buffy sneered at Fabiola. Sometimes I'm a super-selfish bastard; I want life to cut me some slack. Waiting for us was Oneida; in biker clothing. That would have merely been bad, dangerous and creepy except I was dressed in work clothes. I was planning to meet some of the guys (all two of them) for some after-work drinks. The encounter went from not-good to horribly awkward. Oneida had checked up on me, been told how I got to and from work as well as when I left. Unfortunately, she hadn't checked my social calendar; mainly because I didn't keep one; sophomore year mistake. If a girl is in your apartment, she will find the thing you don't want her to find; every single time. I burned my diary and unfriended everybody after that final, hospital-resulting episode. "Hi," I greeted Oneida. She'd figured out she'd screwed up something fierce. "What bike do you use? I have a Specialized STSE hybrid. Maybe we can use some paths one weekend." I was trying to diffuse her embarrassment. We were two bikers talking about bikes. Nothing wrong with that. "I have a Specialized Source;” she got out then realized how BAD that sounded. She had the exact same bike as me; how bizarre? Unless you had somebody come down and take a look at what I bicycle I used. Time to save the day. "Do you want to make a date for 6:30 am on Saturday?" I suggested. "Provided this wacky place hasn't offed, or misplaced me by then." "Ah; that would be nice," Oneida rebounded happily. "The date, that is." "Whoa Oneida, what are you doing with this guy?" Brian derided me as he walked up. I wanted to say, 'Brian, you've insulted a princess of the Amazon people. Please continue making an ass of yourself and give Trent and Khalid my regards'. I didn't. "This is Cáel Nyilas. He's a real player," Brian smirked. "You can do better than him." Oh yeah, Oneida and Brian were co-workers; 'new hires' in Acquisitions. "Brian, it took you three days to even use my name," Oneida gave Brian a neutral stare. "I love Cáel. He saved my life and he sees the real me." For the love of all that's holy, someone shoot me in the head right now. I could hear the nearly subsonic growls emanating from Buffy. Brian looked at me, laughed and went to put an arm around Oneida's shoulder. After all, if I could pick her up, it should be effortless for him to take her away, right? Dumb-shit. Laughing at me was okay. Laughing at; then I noticed the two chicks in black leather standing about doing their best (until a second ago) to go unnoticed. Cáel had gotten away with such familiarity because Cáel had risked his life to save their Princess. Brian Fung? He barely knew her name and they worked together. These weren't even SD chicks; they were something else. My guess was Arinniti House Guard. Did Katrina's House Epona have a house guard? Sure, I imagine they did. They were probably with the rest of House Epona where ever they lived. It wasn't like the whole kit and caboodle was here in NYC. That would have been foolish. If Caitlyn, Aya's mom, had a security issue, she called us at Havenstone HQ, less than four kilometers away. Without a doubt, Elsa would stop by and kick ass for her. I gave Brian this much; he had a working set of eyes. The second those two harbingers of death began closing in, Brian back-pedaled. "Hey Brian, let's go grab some drinks," I offered him a graceful exit. "Sounds good," Brian tried to sound cool. "Oneida, take care," I nodded to my new romantic stalker. "Ladies," to my 'new hire' crew. "Buffy," to my sometimes boss, "remember you are still hot for a; mature chick." "You are going die a long, torturous and extremely painful death," Buffy sizzled. "What? Are you going to make me eat your cooking?" I laughed. Buffy didn't articulate a counter before Brian and I slipped outside. "Cáel, who was that woman?" Brian whispered. "Which one? You need to be more specific. My erotic malfeasances are terribly confusing." "The one you insulted," Brian said. "The last one you insulted," he clarified. "Buffy. She's one of my bosses," I grinned. "She loves me. She's even promised to play the bagpipes at my funeral. Personally I think that's because she doesn't want to risk anyone hearing me pounding on the coffin lid, trying to get out." "You are not going to make it the full 84 days with that attitude," Brian lectured me. "Trent has already been promoted," Brian continued. "I am regularly referred to as indispensable in my work reviews. Felix works closely with Ms. Pharos at all times. You seem to be the only one of us having; issues with Havenstone. Hell, they even shot you and you sat back and took it. I doubt your complacent attitude impressed anyone much." No mention of poor Khalid. How quickly they forget. Trent had been 'promoted' to Southeast Asia alright. I looked it up; there are around 10,000 islands between Indonesia and the Philippines. Sure some were small spits of land with a few trees. I had little doubt one of the good-sized one was a jungle of a different sort. Certainly Executive Services sent Trent's belongings somewhere. I'd never tried to find out. What would I have done with the knowledge? Brooke didn't care and I didn't know his family. Brian and I went to the same yuppie bar as last time. I was with Brian this time, so I abandoned him as quick as I could. Why? At the far end of the bar, talking the bar-back was my Delivery Girl; aka the person who did the home liquor delivery to Libra's place. Half way down the bar, she sensed me looking at her. The bar-back followed her gaze. He wasn't happy with me. DG simply didn't recognize me so I held up my valise over my groin. Confusion; surprise; acknowledgment that despite our surroundings, I wasn't worried about being seen with her. She had her hand truck; she had to make a front door delivery this time. "Remember me?" I smiled. "Cáel Nyilas; the Pillow Guy," she snickered. "How did that work out for you?" The bar-back was broadcasting his displeasure at some upper class shmuck cutting in on his action. DG caught that. "Jason, this is Cáel," she introduced me. "We last met under unusual circumstances." "What kind of name is Cáel?" Jason remarked. "An unfortunate one," I snorted. "You try explaining to your kindergarten teacher that it is 'c-a-e-l'. Of course, I wasn't 'Bomophoto' either. She had it worse than I did." Jason searched me out to see if I was pulling one over on him. I wasn't. Bomo and I bonded over our linguistic misfortune. She moved to Santa Fe in the third grade. I wonder if she grew up to be hot looking. Oink. "I'll give you that," he chuckled. "Why did you get branded?" "Mom was Irish, my Dad was in love with her so I got the cultural emersion, minus the Guinness," I shrugged. "By the way;” I looked back to the lady. "Katy Lee Baker," she batted her eyelashes. We shook hands. "How did it go?" I picked up her question. "Sex, chopped fruit, your drinks, more sex and back to the clinic before eleven." "Have you talked to them since?" Katy inquired somewhat seductively. "Perhaps. I don't like to kiss and tell," I evaded. "I'm curious because two of the three arrived five minutes before you did and they appear somewhat unhappy with you right now," she smirked. "You can look over your shoulder if you don't believe me." Sure enough, there was Felix, Brian, Brooke, Libra and; I think her name was Gina. I waved then turned back to my current two conversationalists. "So Jason, what do you like to do?" I asked the guy. "Huh; what? I work," he replied. "I mean bike, try ethnic food, go to the gym; stuff like that," I teased him. "I work six days a week; but usually one or two are afternoon shifts. Me and some buddies play some pick-up basketball," Jason told me. "Great. You'd pick a sport I suck at," I set the bait. If Jason thought I sucked, he'd invite me to play. That's how it worked. I was pretty good at basketball considering I'd spent the last four years playing with girls; on the court. Girls play some mean ball. They also didn't shy away from putting an elbow into my nuts if they felt like it. "I'm not sure I live in a neighborhood you'd be comfortable visiting," Jason threw up a roadblock. I had him on this one. I showed him my ID. It had the right address; wrong apartment number. "Shit dude, that place is about as rough as my home turf." "I get paid a quarter million a year to taste test for hexafluoride in Chinese imports," I joked. "Really?" Katy chuckled. "It's a growth industry; if you consider tumors to be growth," I was faux-serious. "Mr.; Cáel," Jason looked over my shoulder. "I think one of those chicks is about to come over here and kill you. You best hop to it." "Which one? The brunette, or the russet-colored (Libra)?" I inquired. "The brunette wants attention and the russet wants to push a red hot poker up your ass," Jason gave me his experienced opinion. Heading over there was going to be 'fun'. "Give me a call some time, Jason. Nice to see you again, Katy Lee," I waved good-bye. "You know the staff here?" Libra spat. "That was the girl who delivered the liquor to your place, Libra," I sighed. "I said 'hi'." "It takes you an awful lot of words to say 'hello'," Brian gave a false smile. Libra was positioned next to Brian. Her anger with me plus his 'sexy' put her there. Brooke shifted as I joined their chair-less center table. She was putting enough distance between us to show everyone she was independent yet close enough to give warning signs to other woman that I was in her sights, if not her outright possession. I was better looking than Brooke had counted on. More 'fun' was coming down the pipeline. Gina was here on another date with Felix, or so she thought. Poor Gina. Felix was most likely an excellent fuck. What she didn't appreciate was that Felix was not only a competitor, he was the kind of athlete who had to win. Second place was what you called the first loser. Gina was about to be educated in this personal idiocentricity. Now that I was on stage, Felix made his move on Brooke. Gina? He'd let her in on a three-way if he was feeling personally Hernán Cortés-like. Felix had to have Brooke. I hadn't dumped Brooke, according to Gina, so he wasn't getting my castoffs; he was stealing my prize. The flaw in this plan was my whole viewpoint on monogamy. I didn't much care for it. Brooke was a grown woman and could make her own choices. Felix made his move. Damn, he was smooth. He had Brooke wrapped up and pulled tight without Gina even being aware she'd been dumped. Enter the train wreck named Nicole. She was the criminal defense attorney who I'd fucked in a stall in the women's bathroom of this place. She hadn't tried to contact me and I hadn't worried about her. Hook-ups were like that. She'd been close by, respecting Brooke's signs and not stopping by to say hello. Then Felix launched his master plan and I was suddenly freed up. Nicole had gotten a rough fucking and liked it, I could tell. "Cáel Nyilas," Nicole swooped in. "How have you been?" "The normal. Menace to society, disrespectful of authority and being annoying to random strangers," I teased. "You?" "I'm a lawyer fighting the irresistible lure of evil. The usual," she joked back. "What have you been doing wrong? As I recall, last time you were doing everything right?" Yes, a good dicking indeed. I was going to relate this encounter to Timothy just so he could shoot me with his Nerf gun. He'd shoot me anyway, but it was nice of me to give him an excuse from time to time. "I've been sending sexually suggestive letters to ADA Feinstein," I offered. "Does that count?" "Oh really?" she seemed surprised. "Why don't you come by my table real quick and let me introduce you to some of my colleagues." I wasn't going to be rude. "Gang, this is Nicole," I introduced her to my table. "She's an attorney at a prestigious law firm that probably has more dead partners than living ones and offices in Papua New Guinea and a few dozen other places you've never heard of. I'll be right back." "You are a nut," Nicole bumped me as we weaved our way to her buddies. "Ladies, this is Cáel Nyilas. I think I mentioned him once." By the looks on their faces, once had been enough. "This is Zelda, Marsha, Phyllis, and Rivka; Rivka Feinstein, ADA for New York County," (that's Manhattan for us hicks). "Ah crap," I exclaimed. That wasn't what they expected. "I confess," I looked at Nicole, "I saw the name in an article on the back of the Village Voice. Sadly, they had R. Feinstein and I stupidly assumed it was a guy." "Oh my God! You're gay?" Zelda and Phyllis despaired. "While my life would a whole lot easier if I was, I'm straight; not even bi-curious. My roommate, Timothy; never Tim; is and he was reading it while I was working out. It sort of stuck in my mind," I admitted. "How did my name come up in conversation?" Rivka inquired. "Cáel is a pathological liar," Nicole teased me. "Not true," I protested. "I'm allergic to excessive honesty. That's totally different." "I'd like to put you on the witness stand," Zelda gave me those bedroom eyes. "You and about a 150 other women," I groaned. "150?" Rivka choked. "Yep. The rest already know I'm guilty," I muttered. "Are you of weak moral fiber?" Phyllis joined the game. We were all having a blast. "Sorry, but no. I'm saving up for some. Currently I'm without morals; or scruples. Any suggestion which one I should purchase first?" "You are a great guy," Rivka snickered. "Why aren't you dating somebody?" "Shall we revisit my lack of morals and scruples?" I answered. "So you are a player?" Nicole nudged me. She wanted to play alright. "How to put this; I'm a wonderful lover and a lousy boyfriend," I told them. "I was an eighteen year old virgin. In the past four years, I have betrayed every woman I've ever dated, save one; my first love," I explained. "Why didn't you betray her?" Phyllis prodded. "Don't tell me she's dead." "No, she's fine," I replied. "She was the one who told me to date other women." "That's harsh," Zelda commiserated. She thought Kimberly had dumped me. "Oh no," I corrected her. "We stayed together until I graduated last month. Four of the best years of my life. When she told me to date other women it was because I was killing her. I have a voracious sexual appetite and she was desperate for a full night's sleep." "Do you ever go home alone?" Marsha joined in. "Does leaving a woman's house at 1 a.m. count?" I requested. "Did she throw you out?" Rivka interrogated. "No. She and her sister were exhausted so I picked up my roommate and left," I exaggerated. "Wait!" Nicole held up her hand. "Sisters; and you told us your roommate was gay?" "Morals and scruples," I repeated. "See, I was dating one sister and the other sister wanted a date so I talked my gay roommate into being my wingman so I wouldn't end up sleeping with them both. It didn't work out so well. The second, older sister was horny, so my guy pretended to pass out." "Have you ever considered you are a horrible person?" Marsha studied me. "Yes. Not only have I thought about, I've been told that a few dozen times. It usually is accompanied by 'I'm going to kill you', or 'you had better make it up to me'." "Have you ever been hurt?" Phyllis appeared concerned. "My body is a roadmap of poor decision making," I responded. "What was the worst thing to ever happen to you?" Rivka grinned. Her ability to be deceptively pretty had to have made her a frightening lawyer. "When they were happening, I was a bit more concerned with what might happen to me as opposed to rating them," I informed her. "Except for being shot with an arrow, being chased around naked with a hot poker and having my bed dowsed with lighter fluid while I was still in it were probably the worst," I nodded. "I've been stabbed a few times, tasered, occasionally thrown out of a window not on the first floor and had bookcase dropped on me once, so I consider myself a connoisseur of ex-girlfriend vengeance." "Have you ever been involved with a police proceeding?" Rivka became a tad bit more intense. "Nah," shook my head. "I had it coming. As you said, I'm kind of a horrible guy." "Domestic violence is no joking matter," Nicole also became serious. "That's unfair," I countered. "I'm not so slavishly devoted to the law that I'd ruin some girl's life because I was a total bastard." "Domestic Violence laws are supposed to protect the innocent from the abusive," I added. "I haven't lied to you about my misadventures, but you should understand I chose to handle most of my problems myself. By the looks on your faces, you are about as disappointed in me as the policewoman I am currently seeing. This is who I am and I'm not going to apologize for it." "Mind you, I'm not some gun-toting, roughneck Libertarian," I clarified. "I believe in law, order and the justice system. If someone pulls out an AK-47 on me at a corner bodega, I'm making 9-1-1 my bitch on speed-dial. I don't want to be a hero, or fulfill my organ donor card. I just don't equate that to a girl kneeing me in the nuts because I slept with her best friend in her lingerie." There was a pause as the ladies looked around. They were making an assessment of how much trouble I'd cause versus how much fun I would be. They all smiled at me. They always do. "Who was wearing the lingerie?" Zelda smirked. "I've worn women's lingerie before, but it really wasn't my thing," I mused. "I'll go through a lot for good sex," I winked. "It was my girlfriend's lingerie on her best friend." "Wait," Rivka noted. "Didn't the best friend know you were dating the first girl?" "Yeah. I'm not sure why that never stops them," I shrugged. "Around the fifth time I stopped worrying about it." "Wow, do you have any idea how many women you've been with?" Rivka asked. "Do you always use protection?" Phyllis piled on. "Yes; 223 as of Friday. I'm hoping to break 300 before work replaces me with those guys from 'Hamster Dance'," I told them. "And yes, I always use protection." "I may not know where my partner has been, but I know where I've been and it scares me," I snickered. "That's why I always carry ten." "Ten?" Nicole snorted. "Do you regularly check the expiration date, or are you that ambitious?" "Ambitious? I'd carry more except it's hard to hide more than ten in a wallet; I've tried," I sighed. "Have you ever run out?" Marsha snickered. Our snickering, chuckling and laughter were drawing stares. "Run out? Hell, I've gone door to door in a women's dormitory at 2 a.m. trying to find some," I related. "Ran into an old girlfriend doing that." I slipped into a dreamy smile. "Why do I think that despite it being 2 a.m. in her dorm with you seeking a condom for use with a different woman, she wasn't pissed?" Rivka giggled. "Oh God no," I waved off. "She was freaking furious. That was some of the most intense 'I'm lonely and it's all your fault' sex I have ever been through." "You have names for different kinds of sex?" Nicole was almost crying from laughing so hard. "Oh yeah. The first time I run across a different sexual experience, I slap a name on it so when it happens again, I know what to do," I explained. "Isn't every woman unique?" Zelda sniffled. "That sounds nice in a love song, but 'no'," I smiled. "Women, and men, have a finite number things; needs and responses. Women can have different erogenous zones, but there all on the human body. Admittedly, it can be a bit like predicting the weather at times. It is not a perfect system by any means." "What's my 'thing' then?" Nicole taunted. She didn't think I could do it. "Sex has to be an accomplishment with you, Nicole," I informed her. "You need to be engaged mentally as much as anything else. You need a poet who runs marathons. Otherwise you end up staring at the ceiling after sex wondering what better use you could have made of your time." Silence. That was the norm for that kind of revelation. Women hated to be laid bare. They hated being misunderstood even more. "Nicole?" Rivka prodded her friend. Nicole remained silent. I knew that look. "Nicole, I'm bad news. Wouldn't you prefer to keeps thing simple?" I hoped. I was wrong to hope. I kept praying they would go 'hey, great, mindless sex; let's not blow it', but they never did. I hated giving lame erotic encounters, despite the guarantee of anguish that always followed. "We could go out on a date and see how that works?" Nicole offered. Doom. "Cáel Nyilas; I'm in the book and I work for Havenstone Commercial Investments," I stupidly replied. "You probably have a killer workload were as I spot-check children's toys for WMDs. Give me a call when you have a night free." How was it going to turn out? Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex; let's make a commitment; you cheating fuck-nut! I hate you. Girls weren't predictable; I was. "Cáel, we are going out to dinner, if you remember who you are supposed to be with," Libra seethed as she and the others passed Nicole's table. "Yup, gotta go where I'm not wanted. Nice seeing you again, Nicole," I grinned. "Ladies, I hope it was a pleasure. It was for me. Good night." Dinner; was; bad. Felix, hemorrhoid that he was, squashed Gina's feeble attempts to draw him back to her as he made crystal clear that he was taking Brooke home; to fuck her into Paradise; instead of letting her go home with me. Problem being; Brooke wasn't mine to take; never had been. For the first time in his life, I thought Brian was about to be screwed. Libra was past uber-bitchy by the fifth glass of wine. Brian held a pair of Jokers and thought he was the boss, like always. Libra had four Queens and would be screaming my name when she orgasmed; Brian was sexually proficient. He was also a misogynist, I was now sure, and Libra was going to make him squeal. Then she was going to grab up her clothes, storm out of Brian's place and never want to talk with him again. It wasn't that I was that unforgettable. I was that I knew what she wanted and had given it to her and not getting it Saturday afternoon while Brooke did was frosting her ass. What did that mean for me? For the first time in a long, long time, I was pissed with another guy. Trent really wasn't worth my time, but Felix was about to cross my here-until-now unforeseen line of what guys did to girls. It was dawning on me that this was the result of me. Someone was doing something wrong to a girl because of me. It wasn't my fault. Felix was being a jerk. That would be of cold comfort for Brooke. We split up after dinner. I didn't have the heart to pick up Gina, who was easy prey right then. It was too much like what Felix thought he was doing to me. I took a cab to Havenstone, changed clothing and biked home. I barely had dinner ready for Timothy when he came through the door. "That's not a look I'm used to seeing," he remarked. "I should have beaten someone up," I frowned, "but I didn't and now some girl; Brooke; is going to have her heart kicked because of it." "Was it something you did?" Timothy asked. "No. There is this guy at work who is using her to alpha-dog me," I muttered. "Brooke?" Timothy was confused. "You hardly like her. What a sleaze (Felix). If it was Odette, first I'd slap you around for still being here. Then we'd go get him." "I'm not even sure why I feel bad about this," I grunted. "As you said, I hardly like her." "It is called a conscience, Dimwit," Timothy snorted. That didn't help much. Conscience? Man, I'd stop my bike to run across a highway to move a tortoise off the road. I used to feed some of the Bolingbrook wild hares during the winter. I did humiliating crap for charity. I was never mean to a girl; only dishonest and unfaithful. Introspection got me nowhere. I was a cad. I'd been happy to be a cad for four years. I was going to be damned if my post-college life was going to be any different; all 68 remaining days of it. In my bedroom I discovered Odette had moved in during my absence. I doubted Timothy had been ignorant of all the stuff she deposited. What was going on with my life? I woke up when I heard keys in the door. It was a bit past eleven. I got up to check and sure enough, it was Odette. Timothy had given her a key. Odette had lived through a harrowing night, her boss was a dick and some of the customers were pure hell. I cuddled with her on the sofa while she unwound then we went to bed together. We didn't have sex; (Tuesday) Around 1 a.m. I miraculously found myself awake and alert in bed. Odette was happily dreaming away. Something was gnawing at the back of my mind. I put a name to the emotion and a face to the fear. I called Brooke. "Hey Brooke," I greeted her eight tries later. She was tired of sending me to voice mail. "What do you want?" she answered in a voice devoid of soul. "Fuck if I know," I replied. "I suddenly woke up from a sound sleep thinking of you." "I'm not interested," she sighed. "I'm going to go out on a limb here. You don't want to talk to anyone yet you want someone to help you understand what you are going through," I gambled. That created a tiny tear in her shroud of depression. After five minutes, I got her to give me her address. She told me she wouldn't answer the door. I told her I at least had to try. That got me to her place, 90 seconds of knocking got me inside and four minutes later, we were lying in bed with her sobbing on my chest. Half an hour later, she offered me sex. I told her to stop tempting me and if she only wanted me for sex, I wanted to be paid in chocolate. She giggled, took a few deep breaths and fell to sleep. Wow, I was in two different women's beds in one night and not having sex in either. My watch alarm went off at 4:50 a.m. That meant no 'Marilyn' call tonight. "Mmm;” Brooke moved toward wakefulness. "Work?" "Afraid so," I yawned. "We haven't had sex," he reminded me. I couldn't stop being me. "That's not why I came over here, Brooke," I rolled onto my side so that our bodies were very close. "Never think I don't want to have sex with you, but that's not why I showed up last night," I continued. "Why did you show up then?" she worried. "I have no clue. I'm like Felix; a player. Listen Brooke, I don't consider you my woman," I stated. "We had sex; we are lovers, but we've been thrown together by dire misfortune, not out of any common thread," I reminded her. "I don't expect you to have any sense of loyalty to me." That phrase freed her up philosophically. That meant she could fuck me and not feel obliged to consider and discard any future for us because there was no realistic future that socially glued us into any acceptable form. "So I needed a shoulder to cry on and you showed up," she mused. "Brooke, you are independent and strong-willed. The next guy you chose will be your choice," I led her along. "Felix though; Felix is a serious player and he felt the need to add you to his list of conquests. I saw it happening and did nothing. Now I feel like crap for sitting back and ignoring the consequences." "You knew Felix would turn me into a hash mark?" Brooke seemed depressed, not angry. "I knew he was trying to get at me," I confessed. "He didn't accept that you and I aren't an item. A blonde co-worker; a high ranking supervisor actually; treated him like a bug in the communal showers yesterday while keeping close contact with me. Felix had to win. He had to show me he is the top dog." "And I was the prize?" Brooke moped. "Not to me," I whispered. Brooke looked hurt. "You are a woman. While you would look delectable in a big red ribbon, that's not who you are. I don't keep hash marks. I have a thing called a heart cord and it is solely for my use. Each binding represents a liaison; like a Quipus; an Incan memory knot." Brooke really didn't care. It sounded neat, it was romantic and the act was not demeaning to her. I could savor the memory of our encounter as long as I didn't share it with my buddies. She wasn't one of 'those' girls. "You are very intelligent," she murmured seductively. She didn't care if I was the reincarnation of Benjamin Franklin, or some schmo in Afghanistan who made his living digging up (hopefully) spent ordinance of battlefields. Smoking hot, sexy, well-educated debutantes like Brooke could fuck finely-sculpted, 'smart' guys like me. She could delude herself that I was rapidly upwardly mobile. My turn. "Brooke, I don't want to get mixed up about us," I evaded. 'Us'? There was no 'us' and we both knew it. "If I caved in right now, I'm not sure I could forgive myself." Yes I could. "I just want to feel like someone gives a damn about me," Brooke whimpered. Good acting. We wrestled around; me trying to leave, but clearly not wanting to, while she physically enticed me. We ended up, me on top, pinning her wrists to either side of her head. Her legs were trapped between mine. "Make it up to me; please," she pouted. She humped her pelvic bone playfully against my cock. "I know you want to help me out." Good word usage on her part. "Brooke, this isn't going to happen," I gritted my teeth in frustration. Yes, it was going to happen. Her right leg began exerting steady pressure against my 'weak' left leg. It slowly 'surrendered' to her advance. Now she had on leg on the outside. My right leg held out a little longer yet Brooke was persistent. Now she could ground her finely groomed landing strip against my pulsating rod. I really, really wanted to fuck her now. I took my hands off her wrists, turned them into fists and placed the beneath each of her underarms. "Damn you," I cursed her. Brooke was gyrating her crotch all over mine. With her hands released, Brooke could leverage her body up and trap my cockhead between her labia. They were thoroughly soaked with her honey so after my 'capture' she drew more and more of my length in until I was completely incased. Brooke had won! She knew she'd won. Fuck Felix and his hash marks. I didn't care so why should she? I made on last energetic yet futile effort to get away. Oddly, Brooke somehow end on top at the end of my exertion. I must be an awful wrestler; "No you don't," Brooke purred only millimeters from my lips. "You are not getting away." That was Brooke tossing good ole Felix under the emotional bus. Felix the Player? She'd chalk it up to too much to drink and the hype being more than the man. How was this possible? Look at her. She'd thrown a known sexual dynamo down on her bed and was working his shaft over every G-spot in her vagina. Brooke still preferred a long, rough fucking to get her off. At the moment, she need reassurance more. Felix most assuredly made Brooke ride him. He kept her perpendicular to his hips and came up to suckle her teats when he wanted to, or watch them bounce as he lay back. He was great at sex, no doubt. The girl had to scream and howl; forgetting every other male she was ever with and making every other guy she'd be with later an automatic failure. To him, that was how he rated success. This resulted in me keeping Brooke close so I could make quick kisses to her very close lips. She'd playfully pull away; to put me in my place and remind me she was in charge; then she'd initiate the kiss. Our love-making was more rhythmic; less frantic. She was getting close. "Next; next time you fuck Felix," I gasped. "Tell him; " "What makes; makes you think I'd; every sleep with him; again?" Brooke got feisty. "I bet he was good in bed and now that you have his measure," I assured her. "You can take what pleasure you want and leave." Brooke liked that. It was the whole independent woman thing. "Won't you be jealous?" she panted. "I cannot constantly keep up with your sexual desires, Brooke," I grunted. "I've been neglecting Libra." Oh yeah, Libra. The girl she, Brooke, initially set me up with. Her Vassar classmate. "What about Felix," she huffed and huffed. She was real close. "Off-handedly comment that he's developing male pattern baldness," I grinned. "Just to fuck with his head." Felix was gorgeous. Better yet, Felix knew he was gorgeous. Hit him where it hurts. Brooke tried to giggle, but the surge of triumph overcame her and off she went. The problem was I was getting close and I didn't have a condom on. "Brooke," I inhaled deeply. She'd come to rest on my chest. "I'm about to; " "Oh," she sighed happily. She reversed to the side as she slithered down my body. My cock went down her throat and I started petting her flank. Brooke wasn't the very best, but, man o man, she was going to town on my dick. There was no doubt in my mind that her vaginal secretions didn't bother her. I had to rush the experience because if I was late to work, Constanza make me stand beside the targets while she shot at them. If she was really pissed, she'd have me hold up targets in front me instead. I shot off, Brooke caught it all in her mouth then spit it into two tissues before tossing them in the trash. I caught her look. Trent and now Felix made her swallow. I didn't care; which was yet another choice Brooke was free to make when making love to me. I jumped her. We had a little, tickle-nibble fight that ended in some kisses. I had to leave and Brooke made sure she was poised extra-sexy the last time I turned around to say goodnight and cut off the lights. "Ah damn," I moaned before I left. I didn't really like Brooke yet, by choosing to engage her in sex, I had accepted the task of making her happy. That was the reason Felix and I were going to fight. He'd use another human being to strike at me instead striking at me directly. To me, this was more than low character, it was an insult to my lifestyle. Felix should have checked his baggage at the door. Competing for the same lady was fine; even fun. Picking one to punish another; not cool. I had to think about my response as I barely made it in for my Constanza time. Wisely, I left my baggage at the door. These were firearms we were dealing with; a danger to me and the people around me. I was in my biking outfit today. More looks. The decision was that I'd go for my Glock-22, a 38 Ruger LCR back-up, a South Korean-made shotgun that looked like an M-16 and a very unhealthy looking device called a Heckler  and  Koch UMP 40 (which I had never even heard of). Wait; it got worse. I was scheduled for knife fighting training at 3 p.m.; every day for the foreseeable future. Constanza didn't w

We have a great addition to our series of conversations with venues in NJ. We talked with Gabrielle, one of the mastermind and creator of the Tamerlaine Animal Sanctuary and Preserve in north NJ, truly a labor of love! With rolling hills and meadows, a magnificent little forest, a quaint farmhouse and hundreds of rescued animals, it really is a unique, beautiful setting for your ceremony and reception. Join the conversation. We love your questions, comments, and requests! We also love guests! Past brides, grooms, vendors, and venues contact us! We offer host read advertisement as well. Contact us for more information! Email us at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠andrea@thisjoyous.com ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  Contact us through social media: Facebook, Instagram or website all are titled: New Jersey Wedding Podcast Listen for free wherever you get your Podcasts. Links to this week's vendors: Our intro music is by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@jonathanrusso_guitarist⁠⁠⁠⁠ Andrea Purtell ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.forthisjoyousoccasion.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@weddingofficiant⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Celia Milton: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.njvowsnow.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ @njvowsnow⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Tamerlaine Sanctuary and Preserve https://tamerlaine.org

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..