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[V7E3 Spoilers] Volume 7 Episode 3 Review

Hello RWBY Fans! Welcome to another weekly episode review! I plan to have the Jaune Analysis completely planned out by Sunday, so look forward to that release in the next week or two. Character analyses are big undertakings, but I want to get the Jaune Retrospective out before we get too deep into Volume 7, so it's full steam ahead there. With updates out of the way, lets get to work.

Point of Order

Before we talk about Episode 3, there are a few points I'd like to address about Episode 2 that were unfortunately left out of last week's review. The problem with taking so many notes is that you sometimes loose track of your ideas. Still, I really wanted to talk about these points before they became any less relevant.

Episode 3: Ace Operatives

The episode opens In Media Res, or "in the middle of things". Three Mantas approach the SDC dust mine as we flash back to the mission briefing. Clover tells Jaune, Ruby, and Qrow that their objective is to secure the mine, which will act as the future launch site for Amnity Stadium. Atlas military and lesser Hunters are securing the surrounding territory, but an old, smart Geist has hidden from the military in the mine, requiring a smaller elite team. RWBY, JNR, and AceOps will be intermixed into three teams that will corner and eliminate the Geist. Clover mentions that he trusts Ironwood with his life, and since Ironwood has vouched for the gang, he is extending that trust to the heroes. Perhaps it's foreshadowing and perhaps it's harmless, but once again the theme of Trust pops up in a big way.
Several things are going on during this briefing that merit attention. First, the scene cuts back to the present, showing Atlas personnel fighting Sabertooths on the Tundra while Clover mentions their role. This is a great example of show-don't-tell, and reenforces both the scope of the world and the stakes of the mission. Everything feels more real when we can see the logistics of the mission for ourselves. Plus, it's a big advantage of a visual medium.
We also see another viewscreen, and since I'm contractually obligated to pause and read everything, you all get the benefit of a few extra details. On the mission screen, we see that RWBY, JNR, and AceOps are all listed next to their License statuses. RWBY and JNR are listed as "License Status: Active" while AceOps are listed as "License Status: Military". This tells use two things. First, the formal distinction lets us know that there are Hunters in Atlas that don't serve the military. Ironwood likely just scoops up as much as he can with competitive job offers. Second, we see that officially, RWBY and JNR are operating as licensed Hunters. Whether this is a provisional condition or Ironwood granted them their licenses in recognition of their journey so far is uncertain, but it does open up some interesting creative possibilties. I'd especially like to see the heroes, who's education has been as far from conventional as possible, interact with Atlas students on the more traditional track.
In the final flashback before the mission starts, we get what I was most excited for this week, gear upgrades. The montage is fairly brief, but we see Pietro has given everyone a visual and practical upgrade. He also implies that there are further upgrades he'd like to propose, but is satisfied with his current work for the mission ahead. We get a few quick glimpses of individual characters reacting to their changes; Yang attaches her newer, beefier arm with a pleased look, while Blake looks at her reflection, brushing her hair in contemplation. Given that it's the last time we'll see long-haired Blake for now, I'd venture that the CRWBY went the extra mile to make her locks look especially photogenic.
We also get a brief scene with Jaune on his bunk, rubbing at Pyrrha's sash and growing frustrated at his blonde mop. I may be biased, since I just took a TON of notes on Jaune, but I think this scene is his own reflection on how much he's changed. In Volume 4, Jaune had similar reservations when donning his new armor. I'd imagine that every time he's confronted with a physical representation of his growth, he's reminded of who helped him get there.
We cut back to the present as the Manta's bay door opens, and we get a superbly cinematic reveal of team RWBY's new looks. Seriously though, I think the blocking on that reveal is super creative and great to look at. It's like every member of the team gets their own personal curtain drop in succession, building up to a crescendo as the mission starts.
The team bails out and we get Landing Strategies 2.0, now with character development. Their descents tells us a little something about how each member of RWBY has grown from their Beacon days. Ruby still uses Recoil to descend, but it's a more relaxed motion; she's been team leader for a while now and doesn't have anything to prove to anyone. Yang shows similar restraint, and uses only a single, wisely timed shotgun blast to kill her velocity instead of soaring over treetops, hollering to the wind. Weiss shows off a more practical development by using her Summoning to create a path down. By only summoning Arma Gigas' sword arm, we can see Weiss has a much finer degree of control over her powers than she could have dreamed of at Beacon. Blake's landing shows off the repair to Gambol Shroud, and while the maneuver is nothing special, we should talk about the new accent on her blade.
I'm far from the first to point it out, but Blake's use of gold to repair her sword draws a strong comparison to the Japanese art of Kintsugi, which uses gold and other high-contrast precious metals to repair broken pottery. The technique highlights, rather than masks, the item's flaws, as the practicing artists believe that the break is as much a part of the piece's history as it's original design. Blake herself has accepted her past mistakes and decided to live with them rather than run away from them. Through this lens, her weapon is a great visual representation of her journey and what she's overcome.
As RWBY lands, we see that they are joined by Marrow and Hare. Indeed, the rest of AceOps is split up amongst the other groups of main characters, with Clover joining Qrow and JNR accompanying Elm and Vine. JNR's Manta flies overhead, and we see their own dismount. In a great character moment, Elm and Vine show off their personalities as they leap from the airship. Vine calmly exits, like a diver stepping off a boat. Elm, meanwhile, proclaims that "this is her favorite part" (mine too, Elm) and back flips into the open sky. The camera pulls back through the other open door (another fantastic shot) and we see JNR revealed. Continuing the display, each team member exits in an appropriate manner. Ren is calm like Vine, while Nora makes a cannonball. Jaune looks apprehensive, but psychs himself up and swan dives out majestically, followed closely by the camera. During the free fall, Jaune shows off his own upgrade. He deploys the hard-light extensions of his shield like a glider, before rolling at the last moment, using a pulse of gravity dust to kill his momentum. My boy lands on his feet, ready to fight; a far cry from being nailed to a tree.
Elm reacts positively, positing that JNR "may not get themselves killed after all!" Vine tells JNR that her remark was intended to be a compliment, but Jaune looks deflated and Nora can't help but pout. No one likes being demeaned, even if it was unintentional. We get some more dialogue before the mission starts proper, and Clover informs everyone to stay in contact using their new scrolls. Initially, I thought this might be a big focus of the post-episode discussion, as those who don't trust Ironwood might suspect the new scrolls are bugged. However, the following exchange has completely eclipsed the implications of any technology upgrade.
Blake notices Yang staring at her, which Yang attributes to Blake's new hair cut. The two go back and fourth a little, fumbling over words in that adorable, newly awkward kind of way. That said, you'd be forgiven for thinking the exchange was a tad saccharine, as Marrow expresses his own frustration with the girls' banter. Harriet takes the wind right out of his sails, however, with a comeback of her own. The whole landing scene in general is a great lead-in to this episode's purpose; exploring the AceOps Team.
From the little bit of dialogue and expression we get from AceOps, we can already start to see their personalities come through. Harriet is tolerant if not patient, and more than a tad competitive. Marrow means well, but acts boastful and aloof sometimes. Vine is calm and collected, but also very distant, even from his teammates. Elm is friendly and boisterous, but her bluntness can rub people the wrong way. Clover is a special case, but we'll get to him in the Predictions section.
We see several establishing shots as RWBY/HM approaches the main mine entrance, and what stands out to me the most is the level of detail. The industrial park outside the mine is filled with railings, stairs, dented containers, and all kinds of detritus that shows the place has been abandoned for a long time. The environmental effects are also impressive, with the same attention to footprints and snow physics we saw early in Volume 6. The long hours of work that certainly went into this environment have paid off in spades. The level of detail also makes me think that we'll be returning to the mine before the Volume is over. We know that Amnity will launch from here, and it would be a great excuse to reuse assets and get more mileage out of the CRWBY's work.
Ruby comments on the cold, and we're treated to a little bit of worldbuilding. Weiss tells Ruby that without heating or a projected Aura, the cold of Solitas can kill in hours. I like this exchange, both because it clarifies that Aura protects against one's environment (thus hand-waiving the practicality of several outfits), and because the two having the conversation naturally fit. Ruby grew up far away from Atlas, and wouldn't be used to the cold, while Weiss would be very knowledgeable as both an Atlas native and Aura user. This is how you drop your worldbuilding nuggets.
Ruby's mention of the cold brings up Oscar's absence from the mission, as well as the secrets she chose to keep from Ironwood. A brief flashback to Oscar's talk with Ruby points out how similar her choice was to Ozpin's and questions the justification of that decision. Ruby doesn't give a quick answer, but her team supports her decision, citing the state of Mantle as reason enough to take their time getting to know Ironwood.
As Alpha team enters the mine, Clover asks Qrow if he's ever worked with a team before. I, like many, assumed this was leading to more information about Team STRQ, but instead Qrow subtly implies it's better for him to be separate from people. Clover disagrees, and given what we find out about his Semblance later, it's easy to understand his position. Clover calls for an update, and the scene shifts to follow JNR, Elm, and Vine. I really dig the use of the radio as a means of transition. Moving between scenes feels more natural when it's part of an ongoing conversation.
Nora is excited to be on her first mission, and tells her teammates that it feels like "they're a real Huntsmen Team". Given that JNPR's V2 field assignment was interrupted by the Breach, I wonder if this is the first formal mission JNR's been on. I'm also interested in how Nora puts emphasis on the word "Team", rather than say she feels like a real Huntress. Nora tries to strike up a conversation with Ren and compliments his outfit, but Ren pushes her to focus on the mission. Nora, like me, is frustrated by this response, though I could maybe cut Ren some slack if I thought he just wanted Nora to be safe and alert. Jaune doesn't help things when he returns Nora's compliment with a well-intentioned but misplaced remark of his own.
Moving back to Harriet, Marrow, and RWBY, we find that the Mine's main entrance was blocked by some past accident. Blake elaborates, and we learn that this is likely the mine where Ilia's parents were killed. Weiss adds her own perspective of the accident, relaying how Jacques reacted to the tragedy. The conversation shifts to the treatment of Faunus and Weiss apologizes for her inaction and complacency. Marrow interjects, offering a rather philosophical outlook of his own, before bringing the group's attention back to the task at hand. Blake is sent in to recce the mine shaft, and we get our first encounter with the target Geist. Blake reacts and Harriet charges to her rescue, smashing through the rubble with her own weapon; an exoskeleton frame for her arms.
With the hornet's nest kicked, Grimm start pouring out of the walls. We're introduced to the Centinal, a new centipede-themed Grimm, in a cool spiraling Camera movement that tracks the drilling motion of one of the creatures. More weapon upgrades are seen as the Grimm attack all three teams. Yang uses explosives in her ammunition to create manually triggered cascades, while Crescent Rose's new swivel-head lets Ruby re-position for strikes faster than ever. Marrow and Harriet show off their own weapons and skills, including Harriet's flash-like Semblance and Marrow's power to apparently freeze creatures in stasis.
We cut back to JNR, via Radio again, and see the rest of AceOps in action. The group leaps down an ice slide (or is pushed by Nora, in Ren's case), and Centinals appear at the bottom in ambush. Elm literally roots herself to the ground, and Vine releases glowing extensions of his hands to catch himself, but JNR charges ahead. In a brilliant tactical display, Jaune brakes with his sword while covering his approach with his shield, disrupting the ambush with a Gravity Dust pulse and clearing a landing zone for his teammates. Ren leaps into combat as well, closing the distance with newly integrated grappling hooks. Still, Nora's not one to be left out, and she saves Ren from an unseen Grimm.
Vine comments on the directness of JNR's approach to combat. Elm flashes Ren a thumbs up and a smile, but otherwise the AceOps don't really acknowledge JNR or their explanation. The young team sighs together, likely exasperated by both the pressure to prove themselves and AceOps' lack of feedback.
While the teams fight the Centinals, Clover and Qrow encounter the Geist itself. The Geist begins drawing ice to itself to form a body, and Qrow spots a support beam coming loose above Clover. He shouts a warning, but when the dust clears, it appears the warning was unnecessary; the beam missed clover by a wide margin. Qrow blames the near-miss on his Semblance, but Clover tells him not to worry. See, Clover's Semblance turns out to be "Good Fortune", which explains all the symbolism he's been carrying around since the premiere.
The group convenes in the mine's central chamber, and we're treated to a neat bit of visual storytelling. We already know from Ruby that the environment is very cold, so when we see Jaune visibly sweat, and that sweat evaporate in moments, we know something has changed. We can already guess the room is hot before Vine says anything about highly active dust and the volatility of their surroundings. This is another great example of show-don't-tell, and shows the CRWBY trusts their audience to put two and two together before a character explains it all.
Ironically, there's not many specifics to talk about once the final fight starts. The combat is entirely handled by the AceOps team, and exact difference between a coordinated team, and a coordinated experienced team is laid bare. Using a flawless combination of their abilities and weapons, the AceOps team quickly disassembles and destroys the large Petra Gigas. I suspect the triumphant music that mixes with the rock of the fight is the AceOps theme, which bares strong similarities to both the Atlas and Ironwood themes. It's all very fitting, seeing as this fight celebrates AceOps, not RWBY.
However, the spotlight is not only for AceOps, as Ruby manages to save the day with a clutch catch at the end of the fight. Harriet notices Ruby's semblance, and implies that her "Scatter" is more than just super speed. Given how unique Ruby's semblance has always appeared, I'm betting that there's an undiscovered ability that's been overshadowed by the more obvious speed power.
Once again, the final scene of the episode is reserved for our villains. We see Forrest, post-incarceration, being dropped off in Mantle by the cops. I won't lie, the second I saw the flickering alley light, I yelled "This is where you gonna die, son!" I'm not sure anyone could miss the scene's tone, but that didn't make Tyrion's reveal and the accompanying musical sting any less impactful (if anything, what we know about Tyrion should make us more concerned). When Forrest asks Tyrion who he is, the Scorpion-Faunus replies that he, like Forrest, wants to mix things up in Mantle. As Tyrion lunges at Forrest, his eyes turn from gold to purple, possibly giving us the sixth new semblance this episode. I'm not sure I can make a guess at what the ability is, but given that the glow's color is closer to Tyrion's Aura than the purple of his tail, I suspect this the killer's natural power, rather than a cybernetic contact lens or something like that.

Thoughts

This was not a RWBY episode. This episode was clearly focused on introducing the audience to the Ace Operatives, both individually and as a whole. One one hand, I think this episode was very necessary and accomplishes it's objective. Five new secondary characters at once would be a lot to handle, even in a show with half the roster that RWBY does. Episode 3 introduces AceOps' weapons, semblances, personalities, and flaws in a succinct and quickly paced manner. The episode is also fairly self-contained due to the nature of the mission, meaning our introductory look at AceOps won't spill over into the rest of the volume. Sure, we'll get more character interactions, and the team is sure to play a heavy role in the "Trust"-conflict being set up early, but most of the heavy lifting is already out of the way. We can spend the rest of our time with our main heroes.
Of course, that also means that we don't get as much RWBY or JNR this episode as we might like. Given that the gang just got re-outfitted, I was really hoping for a slower moment for everyone to react to the new clothing and equipment, maybe talk about how far they've come. The first three episodes of this volume have formed a very combat-heavy and plot-heavy arc compared to Volume 6, so here's hoping the next episode kicks off a break for the gang.
Now, a slower middle to the Volume is a tough thing to manage, as we saw with Volume 5, but given the plethora of opportunities for character interaction in Atlas, I'm confident that we can keep up a satisfying pace of development without letting the mid-season droop. In this episode alone, we have three possible character arcs that have been seeded:
Without taking the election plotline, the Schnee family conflict, or the ongoing secrets kept from Ironwood, we have lots to address while the characters are in Mantle. Now we just have to wait and see which comes up first.
Before we dive into predictions, I'd like to once again highlight the camera work and cinematography. Whether it was moving the camera through screens and doors to emphasize the characters, or holding the long shot at the end of the Geist fight, the filmcraft has been consistently and noticeably effective. This is another episode that just looks and feels great.

Predictions

Since Episode 3 is the bookend to Volume 7's opening arc, I don't have many specific details to base my predictions off of. I was hilariously wrong about the "Dust Mine arc" lasting to episode 6, but I'm very satisfied with this episode's pacing, and after listing off the other plot threads and larger conflicts we have to get to, I'm glad we didn't linger. Besides, Clover's own dialogue suggested that the mines will be plot-critical later, so we might still have a few more episodes left to spend in the now-familiar caves. I've already addressed that there are several plot threads we could shift focus to next, but which gets priority is little more than speculation.
I do think Episode 4 will be a breather, it almost has to be after the pace of the first three episodes. RWBY has done a little talking amongst themselves, but JNR has only really had moments as part of the larger group. Perhaps as things settle down, the teams can break apart and have their own moments adjusting to the big city after fighting for so long. I would really like to see a character arc for Nora before things ratchet up near the finale. We saw a little of her past during Ren's arc in Volume 4, but for the most part Nora has always been half of a pair. Relationship troubles would not only make her connection to Ren feel more realistic, but would also give Nora a chance to define who she is, absent of everyone else. Samantha Ireland, Nora's voice actress, has already hinted via a Q&A panel that we may explore Nora's past in Atlas, so here's hoping our favorite thunder goddess gets some time in the spotlight.
I'm very happy we've had an economical exposure to our villains this season. Only catching glimpses of their actions after the episode's main plot wraps makes it feel like they are constantly active in the shadows, working away while the gang is none the wiser. Surprisingly, Forrest's death may give us the insight we need to start piecing together their plan. We know that journalists have been dying, and now we see that Tyrion targeted someone who was incarcerated by Atlas and vocal against Ironwood. I suspect Salem's plan for Atlas is to discredit Ironwood by making it look like he's gone full autocrat, and is killing anyone critical of him. If Watts and Tyrion succeed, then Ironwood's announcement could be misconstrued as an excuse to grab power. Oh sure, citizens of Mantle, there's definitely a big evil baddie out their controlling the Grimm, and only I, Ironwood, have the power to protect you all. So just tolerate my little police state, it's the only way you'll survive. The General's apathy towards his own personal image may be exactly what undermines his plan.
My other big prediction concerns Qrow and Clover. Based on their interactions this episode, I think we're ramping up to a full argument between the man who was cast out for his luck and the man who is celebrated for it. Ever since his semblance was confirmed in Volume 4, and especially as he's become more open in recent volumes, Qrow has made it very clear his semblance made life hard. He was shunned from his tribe, he feels forced to go on missions alone, and he blames himself for any harm or inconvenience that those around him befall. Because of his "curse", his victories have come from quick thinking, clever placement, and raw skill. Qrow's worked hard to become the pro he is today.
Clover is similarly skilled, as this episode demonstrates, but has seemingly had a fair amount of help. His comment after catching the dust crystal, "what would you guys do without me?", could be seen as friendly banter, or perhaps as snark colored by a touch of arrogance. Qrow calls the catch "lucky" after the fight, but Clover is assured that he succeeded on talent. I don't doubt that Clover has worked hard to become Ironwood's point-man. He may even be insecure about his victories, if enough people blame his semblance and ignore his skill. However, he does have an inherent advantage in life, and the people around him do benefit from his presence. He seems to know this too, if his "lucky you" comment to Qrow is any indication. Seeing as Clover is literally the antithesis to Qrow, I wouldn't be surprised if the young man's arrogance leads to a much larger, "you-don't-know-how-good-you've-got-it" kind of outrage. This argument may even be a contributing factor to the larger fallout between Ironwood and the gang, once their secrets come out. Though, even if the larger plot wasn't involved, I would like to see Qrow confront his obvious opposite and grapple with how their semblances have affected their lives.

Loose Ends

Now comes the part where I talk about all the little things that don't have a larger place in this writeup.
That's it for this week. A bit lighter on the analysis portion of the review, but that's inescapable now that the opening arc is winding down. Next week we'll likely see the start of a new arc, with probably a better idea of what the future immediately holds for the gang.
Edit: Since the initial writing of this review, we've gotten a title, description, and thumbnail for Episode 4. I won't spoil it here, but it looks like we are shifting gears to focus on the more social conflicts of Mantle and Atlas. Here's to more personal stories!
As always, if you enjoy my writing, you can check out more at the Masterpost HERE.
Until next week, be safe, be creative, and be excellent to each other!
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Ms. Richmond's Sinister Garden

Part 2 of 2
* * * * * *
I ended up going to the local box hardware store to look at outdoor lighting kits and alarm systems. I took Ellie with me and Will stayed home with Karen. I picked up a couple of lights with motion sensors for the two back corners of the fence. Alarms were pretty nice these days but I thought a dog would be better and no more expensive than the monitoring fees. Ellie enjoyed the outing. We stopped for a lunch date at a local diner. We talked about the new house and what she liked and didn’t like about it; no surprises. She picked out a couple of pralines at the counter. She and Will were allowed one junk food treat per week.
Dad came over to “supervise” the project. Ellie, “assisted” by being the tool finder. For her age, she was great at picking out tools as I requested them. In less time than I’d imagined possible, we were done, it had taken only… well, almost all day. Karen puffed out a sound like a drum roll and flipped the switch. Nothing happened. Then I remembered, ‘motion sensor’. I walked through the back yard and then there was light! Great, one less thing on my list and surely the lights would keep our family safe from prowlers and thieves? Maybe.
That evening, we broke out the pralines. Ellie finished about half of hers, Will took one bite and spat out the sweet, gooey confection. I had an inspiration and took the crumbs and spread a small share at the base of each gnome statue. Maybe the interwebs had been right…
When we tucked in the kids that night, I checked the windows to ensure that they were closed and locked. We each checked the doors and put the little bar across the sliding door on the back patio. Flimsy but it would, I hoped, cause noise and hopefully deter any but the most determined burglar. We turned on the patio light and flipped the switch for the back fence motion sensor lights. Saturday night and another attack of the sleeping heebie jeebies:
The nightmare started the same way, coldness, the dead cat, the spiky tree dancers, the gnomes, the cats, the YOWL! Then I saw that the spiky creatures had hold of each of my family members and each was crying for help. They were muffled cries, dream sequence noises, then I saw that the nearest monster had hold of Ellie and dangled her over the space under Tom Salem’s tree limb. It held her by her hair and grinned evilly at me, then Ellie screamed and the nightmare turned to pure darkness, then my eyes snapped open. It was a real scream, from Ellie’s room!
I scrambled out of bed and snatched up the bat, then tore down the hallway to her room. I rushed in and there she was, curled up against her headboard, clutching a small stuffed toy. She was pale and stared in horror at the window. I looked and saw to my own horror that it was slightly opened. The curtains billowed. I rushed to the window and peered out into the now well-lit back yard. The sensor lights had worked. I saw a face look back at me just before it disappeared over the back fence. The face was on the other side of the fence and the lights were focused into the yard, so I could still not make out features; just a pointed hat and a scruffy, hairy face, then nothing.
I wanted to go out and hop the back fence and chase down this turd but I had to stay and comfort our little girl. Karen had gone to the next room to scoop up Will. Ellie had screamed loudly enough to disturb even him, zonked or not. They all piled together in our bed while I went to the door to speak to the police when they arrived. I had plenty of time to put on some clothes before they knocked. Big belly was back, followed quickly by a younger, earnest-looking officer. They were nice enough, took my statement, asked a few questions, complemented the light system and my speed in installing it, blah, blah, blah.
They once again assured me that they would step up their patrols in Amblewood. Honestly, that was about all they could do. The earnest officer looked for footprints around Ellie’s window and looked for scuffs on the back fence. There were enough traces to show that someone had been there but no real evidence. He looked around at the garden gnomes. “You say the intruder had a beard and wore a pointy hat?” He raised his eyebrows, wearing the ghost of a smile.
“Yes but he was, taller and more animated.” His smile melted into a genuinely friendly expression. I was sure they had better things to do on a Saturday night than to comfort whiny suburbanites.
“I don’t mean to make light of the situation sir”, he quickly assured me. “It’s just… well, no offense but I wouldn’t creep through this back yard with those fellows on guard.”
I smiled back, reassuringly, “Me neither. They belonged to the previous owner. We just haven’t decided what to do with them.”
He nodded, “We use bowling pins to practice tactical shooting at the range, maybe…”
We both laughed at that thought. The gnomes did not, just stood, looking sternly toward the back fence.
The big officer shuffled his way toward his cruiser and said over his shoulder, “Good night y’all, have a good one now.”
The younger officer paused for a moment, “If you hear or see anything else, please don’t hesitate to call. Sir, I’m not putting down our service or police in general but remember that when you need help in seconds, the police will be there in minutes. Response time is based on many factors and is always just a reaction. You may want to get ahead of the crooks. By the way, we really will patrol over here as much as possible, please be safe.”
Wow, nice cop. I wasn’t too sure about the husky fellow but the other two officers I’d encountered seemed at least to care, even if they really offered no solutions. I went back inside and told Karen everything and she said that the earnest officer was likely letting us know that we were on our own, at least for any effective actions. I agreed and looked woefully at my bat. I needed something that would reach out and whack the scumbag. Maybe we just needed a dog. Cats and gnomes hadn’t helped! For now, the kids would sleep in our room, though Karen and I were more scared for them than they were for themselves.
* * * * * *
Sunday rolled by like a dream. We spent the day at mom and dad’s, my sister and her husband and kids stopped by for dinner. Toward the end of the day, I stepped out into the back yard to do what I imagined was a security check. Something seemed off, then I realized with a start, the yard was once again immaculate. Huh! Odd. Maybe the interweb posters were more correct than usual. Who’d have thought that gnomes or anyone else liked pralines. I tried some sleuthing by once again clambering up onto a chair to peer over the back fence. A few indistinct tracks, a couple of small indentations, ladder prints maybe? Dude had carried a ladder? Freak! By the time I’d gone back inside, I’d forgotten about the well-manicured lawn.
Karen and I talked and the more I thought about it, the more angry I became. This had to stop. We had some weirdo wanting to do who knows what, lurking around our back yard at night. No easy feat with an eight foot tall fence around it. I was afraid that he might become more determined or maybe change to more effective tactics.
I must have had nightmares, I wasn’t sleeping well and got up to check the doors and windows. As I walked through the kitchen, the sensor lights out back activated. I quickly opened the blinds over the sliding glass door. I didn’t immediately see anything, then there was movement by Ellie’s window. I removed the security bar, opened the door and stepped out, ready to beat the tar out of the slimy creep but no one was lurking outside the window or anywhere in the yard. Something had to have set off the lights. Then I heard a faint, “mew”. Lady Gray sat under Ellie’s window, looking perplexed. “Cats!” I grumbled, then locked up the fort and stumbled back to bed, had to rest before work tomorrow.
* * * * * *
We made it to the middle of the next week with no more incidents. We kept the cats fed but not too much, we needed them to hunt. They left us, ‘presents’ by the patio door, all sorts of dead creatures or parts thereof. At least one small copperhead, good job cats, you go! I’m really fond of catsaren’t I? I quietly bought a box of cookies, not the kind that feature the little Elves (no more legendary small folk, please) but the less expensive store brand and stored the box next to the generic cat food; we were on a budget. Even more quietly, I put out one per day per gnome. The yard stayed immaculate and the smiles were present and not quite as sinister? Whatever, sometimes we just have to go with the flow.
Wednesday night, we were pretty much back in routine. The kiddos were back in their rooms, no signs of creepy crawlers. The nightmares had never truly left but they had faded on waking, until tonight:
The dead kitty took center stage once again. I’d gone through mom and dad’s back gate to bury her but the pitiful little corpse was gone. Probably a buzzard… yet here she was in all her horrific inglory! Disgusting open wounds apparent as she reached for me with bloody and mangled front paws and enormous claws. Her maw gaped and she grew saber-tooth fangs.
The spiky, shadow creeps had added a chant to their menacing dance and several carried spears; like they needed them! The gnomes rose on either side of me and rode the living cats like ponies, circling me and then Karen and the kids were with me, tied up at my feet and screaming in fear.
Then a gigantic black cone arose, like the gnomes rising from the ground but in front of me. A bearded face and gaping, slavering maw… Uurrrgh!!!
I woke suddenly and my side of the bed was soaked in sweat. How does Karen sleep through this? I wondered briefly. I quietly got up, picked up the bat and new long flashlight and went on a patrol; okay, I peed first, never pass up an opportunity… Windows and doors were secure, motion light was activated, door bar secure… What?!!! I looked out the patio doors and around the back yard. It was brightly lit, so something had moved through in the past several minutes. I opened it and stepped outside to look along the edges of the house and to shine the flashlight into the brush… Nothing. “Probably the cats”, I grouched as I closed the sliding glass door.
I went in to check the young’uns. Will, you guessed it, zonked. Ellie also looked pretty peaceful. There was something clutched in her arm, likely one of her menagerie of stuffed animals. Crap, did the toy just move?!
It did! I thought it might be another nightmare as a fuzzy looking ball rose from the crook of my little girl’s arm, spikes twitched at the top of the ball, then, green glowing eyes popped open and blinked, then slitted ominously… “Mew!” declared Lady Gray. CATS!!! I screamed internally. Then I noticed that the window was wide open. Ellie must have forgotten to close it when she let in her little friend. Well, that explains the gray and white hairs, mystery solved, Scoob, I thought as I slid shut the window and flipped the lock into place.
As I turned to sneak back out of the room, I was distracted as Lady Gray leapt to the foot of the bed. I turned my head at the movement and as a result dodged a large, meat-hook fist that would have knocked me cold. Instead, it just glanced my left ear, stung, and instantly galvanized my adrenaline. I stepped back as a second fist, this one clutching a small knife, thrust at my midsection. A figure in a black hoodie, the peak of the hood standing tall, emerged from the shadows, a bearded face with shiny bits of metal embedded or attached to several areas loomed over me. I backhanded the flashlight across the knife hand and let it drop. That rolling obstacle caused the lurching monster to step back and hiss. Then I gripped my bat and swung for the fences…
* * * * * *
Isn’t it amazing how great it feels when your family looks at you as a homerun hero? Little kids look to parents that way anyway but it’s nice when we’ve actually done something to warrant that feeling. Like bashing in the head of a sick psycho who wanted to take our baby girl. Leaving the scum to lay on the floor bleeding while you pick up your child and the heroic little furball that has become your new favorite pet and whisk them away to safety. To get to relate the tale to your favorite police officers as they figure out which one gets to ride with the injured prisoner in the ambulance and which gets to go back on patrol. To smirk at the fat cop who showed up late… now sporting corporal stripes… great, figures he’d be the one they promoted.
It’s an even greater feeling to get back to normal. It wasn’t easy, the creeper had definitely generated new levels of nightmares. My new buddy, Officer Greene, or “Chuckie” met up with me during our respective lunch breaks and filled me in on the status of the creeper. “Looks like you won’t need to testify after all, he said, dude died.” I must have assumed that, ‘Oh, crap, I killed him’ look, because he quickly put up a calming hand. “Your bashing him on the skull wasn’t the cause. He had a concussion from that but it didn’t kill him. Seems he was addle-brained from the get go. We had him ‘cuffed to the hospital bed rail as we do any prisoner and an officer on watch. Dude went nuts, started screaming, pulling on the cuff, tried to get away. He kept screaming something about, ‘hoot owls’, and ‘Blood Gate’ or ‘floodgates’, ‘the Ancient Oaks’… maybe, just crazy babble-crap. He was hard to understand for many reasons, the metal piercings around his mouth didn’t help. They gave him a dose of vitamin T…”
“Wait”, I held up a hand in turn. “What is vitamin T?”
He grinned, “Thorazine. Pretty powerful stuff they use on people having psychotic episodes. It knocked him out for a while. Probably not good in combination with his concussion but he was tearing up his own wrist trying to get loose. Our officer said that he seemed to want to run rather than fight. Guy was a real piece of work. He lived in the woods behind the strip center. He never would clearly say what but something drew him to your place, some need to save the world hallucination very likely.”
“That nightmare scumbag wanted to…” I choked a little at the thought of what he wanted to do to my baby girl.
Chuckie put his hand on my arm to comfort me. “Not so sure, this guy was a looney but there was no pedophile history on him like that. A couple of drunk and disorderly charges… you know this is confidential, right? I’m not supposed to talk about criminal histories.” I nodded and he continued, “He’d been in a private mental facility in his teens. Typical, refused to take his prescribed meds, then started finding his own meds on the streets. He has been homeless for nearly a decade. Still, no burglaries, no assaults, nothing. He moved into the woods some time ago, maybe in the past year and dropped off the radar. Detectives spoke with some other local derelicts, they knew him but hadn’t seen him in a long while. Most thought he was dead or in jail.
“Oh, remember how we said we’d look in the woods? We did and we found what we believe was his camp. Creepy, did you know there was a cave in those woods?”
I shook my head, “Nope, we played there all the time when we were kids, I’m sure we’d have found something like that. Not really common in this area.”
He nodded, “Agreed but there it was. Not very big and smelled awful, worse than most hobo dens. It took a detective who used to work homicide in the city to go in, he was the only one who could stomach the smell. He got inside and nothing but a few blankets, a set of clothes, and an expired state ID with the creeper’s name on it: ‘Howard Blackhawk’, he was some kinda native. There was a small crack at the back of the cave that led downward, too small for the detective or the creeper to get through. He told us that the smell came from that crack, called it, ‘The butt crack of the dead in Hell’.” At this he laughed at the gallows humor.
“Anyways…” he continued when I just nodded, “… no sign that the dude did anything there but sleep and stash his stuff. Not even a fire pit out front of the entrance. He may have used that crack as a garbage shoot and toilet, not really clear. Thing is, he managed to slip his cuffs while the new corporal was taking a turn watching him; as in out at the nurses’ station showing off his new stripes and bragging about his raise. Old Howie slipped his cuffs and climbed out through the window. Corporal Randolph walked in about that time. Howie looked at him and said, ‘They’re coming. I couldn’t do what They said, I couldn’t get the blood of an innocent but they got enough from that dude and me and are coming anyway’. Then he dove head first onto the concrete sidewalk in the courtyard. Only three stories but he made an impressive mess. Problem solved!”
"So pedo or not, he WAS going to hurt my Ellie." He shrugged. I sat there, reconsidering my newfound friendship; I knew he was hard-bitten but no need to be so callous about the blood of my child, not to mention homelessness, mental health issues, and drug addiction; of course I hadn’t had much experience with any, who knows? “So nothing more for us to do on this?”
“Nope, you are free and clear buddy, no loss with that guy…”
He went on in that vein for a while and then we wrapped up and I went back to work. Before we left, he told me that Randolph was busted back to officer and the female officer, Burns was promoted in his place.
So I passed on the news to the family and we struggled for a while to get past, “The Blackhawk Down Incident” as we’d taken to calling it. Yet we made it through the next few months and were fairly sane when our newest bundle arrived. The house was sane, yes, but hardly calm: grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, a protective big sister, a jealous big brother, and of course a glowing mother. The supernatural nightmares had been forgotten and the real one resolved… life was good.
* * * * * *
A few nights after our new addition was home, I was plunged back into the throes of the nightmare realm. It was a Friday night and I was exhausted with the kids. I’d had to take them while Karen handled the new poop factory / eating machine. We had a blast and all ate entirely too much junk food that evening.
This time, I awakened at about 3:00 am. Eyes just tinked open and I felt wide awake like I’d just gulped down a few cups of coffee. I checked the baby, no worries, did a quick patrol, all was secured, children properly zonked. For some reason, I felt the need to check the patio door a second time. As I approached it, the motion lights activated. Seriously? Had to be the cats… or maybe the gnomes… I stepped outside to look around and didn’t immediately notice anything amiss… Wait. Was that; chanting coming from the woods?
I gulped and then looked carefully at the yard. The gnomes were all facing the back fence. The cats, Tom Salem on the right, were lined up on the big tree limb, all staring out into the woods. None of them seemed to pay attention to me. The chanting grew louder and more ominous. I felt that old familiar chill and the lights somehow dimmed. The feeling that the sounds that emanated from the woods communicated a threat grew very strong within me. There had been more construction on the far side of the patch and the developers had destroyed just a little more of the woods but hey, we could use yet another grocery store… Bbuurrrr, I shivered. Please let this be another nightmare!
I realized that the chanting now included gnashing and scraping and clinking and that it was not only louder but closer. I hefted flashlight and bat and stalked toward the back fence. I had purchased a ladder that currently rested against the big oak that was opposite Tom’s. I’d forgotten to put away the thing, just as well. I tucked the flashlight under my arm and clutched my bat in the same hand and awkwardly ascended the ladder. Once I cleared the top of the fence, I realized that the darkness I’d noted was not from the dimming of the lights but from the darkening of the woods out back. A deep dimness, like a moonless night had descended over the woods and had begun to encroach into the bare space between the trees and the backside of the fence.
Then I saw them, the spindly, spiky figures, all lines and angles, they were silhouetted against the nearly black backdrop. Figures that brought a new meaning to blackness; more an absence of light, as though they were from a Plane where light did not exist except for the sickly orange glow of their eyes. Yet parts of them glinted in the non-light, the teeth and claws and tips of primitive weaponry, each eager to be soaked in gore.
I noticed that the shadow line had stopped growing toward the fence, even though the figures still approached. Then I saw little cones rise from the ground, five of them. The gnomes emerged from the soil, each gripping his tool as a weapon. They appeared animated and alive and little puffs of steam emerged from their faces as their breath caught the cold night air. The hatchet man spared me a glance that contained a clear look of ferocity and determination. He quickly turned back to face the threat of the onrushing horde.
It was a battle for the ages… in miniature. The gnomes were each no more than two feet tall and the hobgoblins or whatever the spiky things were averaged about three feet tall. They met and merged into a fierce fight, weapons glinting and clashing. The gnomes were outnumbered but seemed to be holding their own, each chanted in a deep guttural voice, “Vorwärts! Zerquetsche sie! Nimm sie aus!” (Forward! Crush Them! Gut Them! – No idea how I knew that.). Then the cats leapt into the fray and filled in the gaps in the line of gnomes. They added their own spitting, clawing, biting efforts to the struggle. The monsters were falling back towards the wood line. The gnomes and cats pressed the fight… Where is Tom Salem? I thought. He’d be able to finish the battle.
Then I felt myself falling backward from my perch, an inky form, larger than the average monsters, clutched at my head and shoulders. The ground rose up and knocked the breath from me. I felt a sharp pain in my upper right shoulder as the spiky monster thrust his spear home. He leered at me, then leaned in to take a bite out of my face... He didn’t make it, Tom Salem sailed through the air and latched on to his head and shoulders in turn. The proportions between the hobgoblin and me and those between Tom and the hobgoblin were oddly symmetrical, almost by design
Tom soon had the creature expending all of its energy and focus to remove him rather than to attack me. I took a much needed if brief moment to recover my breath and my flashlight, I had no idea where the bat had gone. I managed to stagger to my feet, the shoulder ached like a migraine but my arm was otherwise numb and dangled uselessly at my side. I saw that the monster had started to gain the upper hand on Tom as they spat and rolled and fought all around the near perfect lawn. I found an opening when the monster pinned Tom to the ground and raised its spear for the murder strike. I came down overhand with the flashlight and put a serious dent in its head. I spun the device in my good hand and shined the beam of light into its baleful eyes. Their glow was gone and the figure slumped to the ground and dissolved into the soil.
“Good one Tom! You are my main cat!” I exuberantly called out to my battle companion. I glanced at where he lay and to my horror, I saw that he was pinned to the ground with the spear. He did not move, he did not breathe. I was suddenly filled with a mixture of sadness and anger. I raced to the ladder and shifted it so that it rested against the fence, then climbed and clambered over the top. The battle still raged and some of our army had taken damage. It was a stalemate, just inside the line of trees.
Then I arrived like an ancient Berserker. I swept the beam of the flashlight across the faces of the wicked horde. They blanched and were clearly blinded for a moment. My troops pressed forward, shredding the nasty creatures. Then I waded into the fray, my proportionately giant legs kicked goal after goal and the end of my flashlight sunk several hole in one shots, the beam turned maniacally in all directions as I swung the instrument like a Giant’s club. It was too much for the invading throng. They fled back into the woods, the darkness retreating with them.
I stood there, breathing heavily and peering out through the trees. The cats sat or lay and licked their wounds. I caught sight of five little red cones as they sunk into the soil… It was over, we’d won.
Then I realized that I couldn’t climb back over the fence, certainly not with a broken wing. I hung my head and began the trudge around the cul-de-sac. I paused briefly at the back gate that led into my parents’ back yard… Nope! Their new Rottweiler, Prince would eat me alive until dad came out and shot me. Sure could have used Prince in the fight. Dad’s shotgun too! Oh great, I’m in my sleeping clothes, no key, I thought gloomily. Then I wondered how Karen and the kids could have slept through that affray. My screams alone should have awakened at least half the neighbors.
As I walked, the pain in my shoulder receded and some sensation returned to my arm and hand, though I still felt a chill in them and blood still trickled from my shoulder. Thing had been stabbing at my neck, it had meant to kill me. I knew I had just checked the front door from the inside and ensured that it was locked but like most primates, I tried it anyway; it opened! I entered and immediately did a check on my family. Each was appropriately zonked and none appeared to have stirred, except Ellie, who had turned onto her side when Lady Gray had fled her little arms and charged into battle. Budget or not, the cats and gnomes would get premium brands for at least the next week. Milk too!
I sneaked into the bathroom and checked my wound in the mirror. It wasn’t that big around but it was deep. I cleaned it out and found some gauze to stuff into it. The numbness had definitely improved and the coldness was all but gone. There might be nerve damage but I was suddenly exhausted. I barely managed to crawl in beside Karen before I passed out. I slept through the family chaos of a Saturday morning until nearly noon. I was sore and stiff and anxious to check on my family and my troops. I suddenly realized that I’d left Tom Salem’s body outside, pinned by that fiend’s spear.
I hobbled into the living room and greeted everyone with a hug and a kiss. Karen looked at me curiously, the new baby suckling away all the while. “You okay, Clay? You look terrible.”
“There was an, incident, last night. I’ll give you the details in a moment. Hey, please keep the kiddos inside for a few, I need to check something in the back yard.” I said as I stepped over to the patio door. She just smiled and nodded, the strangeness still didn’t register with her, though apparently the gnomish memory tricks had stopped for me. I remembered the entire night.
* * * * * *
I ended up wrapping Tom’s corpse in a big beach towel. He really was large and heavy. I placed him under the limb of his tree and realized that I’d have to dig a grave mostly one-handed. I managed. Then I went back inside to explain what had happened to my lovely bride. She grilled me until she realized that I was injured. I got dad to drive me to the emergency clinic in that stupid strip center on the other side of the woods. Coincidence?!
I got better over the next week, no real damage and the memories of my injury faded from Karen’s memory. The kiddos were unfazed and when I tried to thank dad one last time for driving me to the clinic, he just gave a WTF look with one of his eyebrows raised.
The gnomes all stood around, a bit worse for wear, some chipped paint and a few gouges in their ceramic, yet each wore a self-satisfied, vaguely arrogant smile. The cats still came around to eat, sleep, hunt, and whatever else cats did. I was absolutely sure… I still wanted a dog… but I loved our cats!
I also needed to know more about what had happened so we could avoid future warfare. I called Mrs. Burton and first asked about Mrs. Richmond. “Oh, oh my,” she started with a catch in her breath. “I guess I forgot to tell y’all, we just buried momma day before yesterday. She died early last Saturday morning.”
“I’m sorry to hear that ma’am.” We exchanged a little more talk of condolences and then I decided to just go for it. “Mrs. Burton, the same night your mother passed, we had an incident here at the house. More specifically in the back yard.”
“In the… back, yard?” she hesitantly inquired.
I rushed on, fearing she’d make an excuse and hang up the phone. “Yes ma’am, it involved cats, gnomes, and some kind of creatures from the woods out back. I was injured and I fear for my family. Is there something you want to tell me? Something you should have told us before you sold us the house?”
Silence… though I could tell she was still there, just gathering her thoughts. “You may find this hard to believe but my memories about this have only started to return since momma passed. Her family brought over the gnomes from Germany. They were related to the guy who invented them; the garden variety that is. I’m not sure about the cats. She told me the gnomes were there to protect our home and the neighborhood. She said to make sure to feed them. No idea what garden gnomes could do to protect anybody nor what to feed ceramic figures. Likely just, ‘stupid-stition’, you know how old folks are.
The monsters are something momma called, ‘Hu’tau’, not sure where they came from but she said that they were some kind of native Land Sprite that got stirred up every time someone cut down part of the woods. She wasn’t sure why they attacked our yard in particular but thought it might have something to do with the big oaks on either end of the fence, maybe being some kind of Gateway into our world…. I dunno, I really don’t know much about it, I was grown when they moved to that house, she only recently told me all this stuff. I thought it was just her dementia, which had actually improved after she left the house. Funny though, I only recently remember her telling it…” She hesitated again, “I think they may have killed my father, I’ve never believed that he fell off a ladder.”
I thanked her, again offered my condolences, then hung up and went back to my family. Life was good.
* * * * * *
We named the black lab puppy, “TS” in honor of old Tom Salem. He grinned and gamboled into the yard with that goofy, hopping puppy gait, sniffing and peeing like a good little boy. The cats pretended to ignore him as they would any dog that behaved in such a dorky, doggish way. They sat or lay, aloof on their various perches, each attempting to display her battle scars in the best light. Cats are awesome! TS was doing his best to mark everything in the new territory as, “his”. Dogs and human toddlers can be similar when it comes to property rights. Then I realized where he was headed and a wicked grin spread on my face. The gnomes, as they watched TS’s progress towards them, looked… horrified!
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Lacy by the Silvery Moon

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By the light of the silvery moon,
I want to croon,
To my honey ‘bout who loves whom.
Honeymoon, keep a shinin’ in June,
Your silvery beams
Will bring us dreams of my lovely in June,
By the silvery moon…
…I finished the old tune and stared down lovingly into Lacy’s wide brown eyes. She gave me a big smile and wiggled in delight. We both enjoyed the early summer evening on the front porch, indeed by the light of the, “silvery moon”. I stroked her back and cuddled her close; in so short a time she’d become a true delight in my life. Dogs have a way of doing that…
Oh, you thought she was a woman or girl? Well that’s okay, so did she… her life had been hard up to the point when the folks at the local animal shelter had ended up with her. She was a medium to large mixed breed… plenty of Golden Retriever in that mix by the look of her and trending toward the larger end of the scale; a little russet in the coat and a slightly pointy nose, maybe some Irish Setter? She was still young enough to be a little fuzzball but was starting to look like a real dog… a grown-up… okay, an adolescent. She had plenty of energy and was clearly very bright. It hadn’t taken long to house train her and she could already sit and stay. She was kind enough to tolerate me singing old songs as we puttered around my place and wasted time… the life of the newly retired.
I loved animals but hadn’t wanted any when I retired. I felt like I would be traveling or working on projects and wouldn’t have time to properly care for one. Then I stopped by the shelter to visit (and ogle) Ms. Wanda Jamison. We’d met elsewhere but she’d told me where she worked and invited me to visit. Next thing I knew, I had Lacy and a complete set-up for a new pup and Wanda trundled me out to my truck without so much as a by your leave, here’s my number, or kiss my foot… women! Ah but my Lacy was loyal. A scratch on the rump, just above the tail and another behind the ears and she was mine for the day… okay, at least for the moment, pooches sometimes have short memories.
I hadn’t realized until Lacy arrived and I had to start sharing my home with another living being, just how lonely I’d become. Sure, I had my fun with the old gals around town but I hadn’t looked at any of them seriously. My wife had died many years previously, we’d had no children and without her... well, life could be empty at times. She was still the other half of my internal dialog… Now I had a sweet little lady to take on walks; one who wouldn’t fuss at me or argue when I griped about politics… and one who liked me singing old songs as much as my Rhonda had. Life with Lacy was good…
**** * ****
That moon sure was bright; it was full, “gibbous” folks used to say. Bright enough that I decided that we could take a walk through the yard, let my little critter relax and enjoy the great outdoors before we headed inside for bed. Not like we had to get up and do anything…
Lacy sniffed and gamboled and rooted her nose under every bush and tree with the tirelessness of youth. I envied her for a moment… then she started getting close to the woods near the edge of the property. We had, “paper company” owned forests on two sides. They extended for miles…. Never knew what might be lurking under those branches. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, didn’t want my girl to encounter a copperhead or other nasty concealed in the moon shadows. I called to her, “Lacy, come back over here. Good girl, come on…”
Naturally she decided that she didn’t want to be a, “good girl” or maybe she was just too excited by the things she smelled, so she kept at it for a moment, then abruptly halted in her tracks. She looked up and out into the forest and gave a little, “huff”; not a bark, just a startled, defensive sound… She stared for another moment, then bolted forward into the trees!
“Lacy!” I called in vain, “Get back here!” I was suddenly afraid. What if she’d taken off after a coyote or wild dog or worse yet, a feral hog? Those things were dangerous to full grown dogs, Lacy was still a pup! I hadn’t planned on the walk, so I didn’t have a flashlight or walking stick and had nothing on my feet but flip flops but I ran after her, heedless of what was sure to happen to my feet on the rough forest floor. Then I heard her yelp; the sound was engulfed by a deep throated growl… not Lacy’s. It was a yelp of pain and fear and she wasn’t too far ahead… I heard the sounds of rustling brush as some large animal or person fled from that same direction; far more noise than little Lacy could produce…
**** * ****
I found her, lying between the roots of an old oak tree, her fur stained with blood, her ribs pumped with heavy breaths, and a slight whimper and whine emanated from her throat. Something large had bitten her along the scruff of her neck and had maybe shaken her. It had to be large. She was nearly forty pounds… it may even have been a cougar. I was nervous but otherwise I set aside my major fears and scooped up my little girl and carried her back home. As I hobbled through the last of the trees before my yard, I was startled by the sound of a low octave howl that rang out through the woods. The challenge of a predator, triumphant over a fresh kill! Maybe Ms. Lacy had interfered in the hunt. In any case, some poor creature had just met its end…
**** * ****
I got her inside the house and under some clear lighting and examined her. The wounds did not appear to be deep or near anything vital but they were already swollen and I could see irritation around each puncture. She’d gone limp and nearly lifeless, her breathing now slow, like she was in a deep sleep. I wrapped her in a towel and carried her out to the car. I drove the several miles into town and to the veterinarian’s office. She lived behind the clinic and I knew that she would take on an emergency case; in our area those were sick livestock as often as household pets.
Poor Dr. Stone had just gone to bed but she gamely answered my knocks and rings. She escorted Lacy and me to the clinic and once we were inside, she immediately went to work on the now decidedly limp dog. She shooed me out into the front area and ordered me to make some coffee since I’d made her get out of bed. I complied and allowed her to do her work.
When I looked back in on them, she was putting in some stitches and wore a worried frown. That made me worry; it was a long night…
**** * ****
The next morning, I was awakened from where I’d stretched out on the sofa in the waiting area by Lacy nosing at me. When I was mostly alert, she gave me her usual effluviant dog smile; I could not understand how such a sweet creature managed to have such hideous breath. Despite my relief and sheer joy, it took me a few minutes to sit up and get my joints to moving properly… well, as properly as they did these days. There she was, perky and goofy as ever, wagging her butt in counter to her tail. A few fragrant face licks got me fully alert and on my feet. “Uurrrrgh… Gross!” I grouched playfully as I attempted to wave away the foul smell.
When doc arrived, I settled the bill with her and thanked her profusely. She seemed surprised that Lacy appeared to be doing so well, “I must admit, I was worried for her last night. I expected to have her here for a few days but the punctures look… well, significantly healed… far more than they should be. She’s had her shots but you’ll need to keep an eye on her. No interaction with other animals. She’s quarantined for potential rabies exposure. Just a precaution but please watch her. Oh, and give her these twice per day… antibiotics. Don’t want her getting any nasty infections…” As she said the last, she gave Lacy a quick back rub and was rewarded with a wet dog kiss. “Phew! We need to get her in for a teeth cleaning, she’s too young to have such awful breath.” Dr. Stone exclaimed.
So, we packed up and headed back to our, “shanty” in the woods. I stopped by the little grocery store in town on the way and picked up some treats for both Lacy and me, we’d had a long night…
**** * ****
When we arrived, Lacy hopped out of the truck through the driver’s side as usual, too anxious to wait for me to open her side. Yet once she’d bounded out into the yard, she stopped… she tensed and then cowered… next thing I knew, she was glued to my side. She stayed that way until we got inside. She’d cast nervous glances at the woods as we proceeded across the yard. She definitely remembered what had happened inside the trees…
That evening, I gave her the antibiotic pill, just before her supper dish. She took it fine and allowed me to inspect her wounds… I was astonished. They’d healed and left four perfect, pink, puncture scars, as though they were a couple of weeks old. I rubbed the area and she didn’t seem to feel any pain, she just grinned at me and puffed her foul breath my way… we’d definitely have to visit the doc again for that teeth cleaning. I decided to wait until tomorrow to call for an appointment. I was glad that the wounds were better but it was weird and I thought it’d be best to keep doc in the loop.
**** * ****
I called Dr. Stone’s office and she had an opening in the next hour, so I got ready and escorted Lacy back to the truck. She kept eying the trees warily and stayed on my leg. She stopped to have a pee, she’d been holding it for a while. Apparently she no longer wished to enter the yard alone… we’d have to fix that. I couldn’t run outside to pee every time she did… well, if my prostate kept growing, maybe.
**** * ****
“Well, Ms. Lacy, you seem to be a miracle healer. Is that your true breed?” Miriam Stone spoke engagingly to my pup, who responded with a huff of breath and a goofy grin. “Aargh… we need to clean those teeth ASAP. I have an opening for that Thursday afternoon, can you bring her?” She glanced over her shoulder at me.
I nodded, “Sure doc, just let me check my appointment book.” I mimicked flipping through pages and running down the lines of an imaginary book. “Looks like we’re clear; I’m retired and Lacy hasn’t decided what she wants to be when she grows up. She’s currently in home school.” Lacy perked up a little when she heard her name.
**** * ****
Over the next few days, Lacy seemed to get much stronger and even filled out some. Doggie growth spurt apparently, I thought as I watched her sniff around the yard after she did her business. She was still nervous about going far from the house by herself but she was starting to recover her confidence. I was sure that she’d soon be racing around her territory once more.
Her teeth cleaning had been pretty routine. Her breath still reeked, though the, “stinkometer” readings were much lower. Some dogs just had nasty breath… like some people. I noted that she preferred the side of the house farthest from the forest of late. She’d occasionally stop, peek around a corner of the house, and sniff the air from the direction of the shadows cast by the great boles and limbs. She was doing that as I watched her… Then came an ear-splitting howl from inside the line, where the shadows were deep and obscured the exact source of the sound.
Lacy immediately cowered and then bolted toward the back door to the house. She burst through her doggie door before I could even rise to my feet. There was still some light this evening and after my rapidly beating pulse settled, I followed her into the house. It was time to check out what creature was lurking out there, haunting my home and my one true friend…
I went inside and found my poor dog on the couch, burrowed beneath her favorite blanket, shivering with fear rather than cold. I patted where the lump of her back rose slightly under the material… she growled and snapped at me. Fortunately her head was covered, so she didn’t make contact. I drew back my hand, startled and then realized just how scared she was; I’d frightened her…
I walked over to the hall closet and picked up my 12 Gauge. I checked the load and walked back out onto the back porch. I stepped off and headed in the direction from which I’d heard the howl. I intended to put a stop to whatever beast was hiding out there, menacing my home… frightening my little girl…
This time I wore boots and I was ready to traipse through the brush. I was well armed and my blood was up enough to stave off the pain from my back and knees. That constant pain from which Lacy distracted me so well. Now it faded into the background and I was on the hunt. I slowed once I was through the brush and under the trees… I began to walk quietly, placing the balls of my feet before me… I stopped frequently to listen… there were no sounds. It was eerie, no birds, no rustles, not even the buzzing of insects… I took a whiff when a slight breeze blew through the branches… I retched and bent forward, prepared to give up my lunch. The stench was horribly foul; death, rot, musk, and… something less definable but similar to a street person who hasn’t been able to wash for a few weeks… all combined with wet dog.
When I’d recovered from the initial shock of the wretched stench, I looked up toward the source of the odor and through the leaves and branches of a yaupon, I saw the eyes… Red eyes… not reflective but glowing with the inner light of a nighttime predator. They were set higher off the ground than mine. Definitely higher than any normal animal. I thought, maybe it’s a person in a costume or using a prop to play some sort of prank... Yet I couldn’t shake an overwhelming sense of dread. The features were sharp, a long nose that descended from between the luminous eyes. Heavy brows or fur around the eyes, like a cap or long messy hair...
I strained my eyes to look more closely, yet the rest of my body was stood frozen in place. The figure shifted slightly as if it read my thoughts; that I wanted… no I needed a better look. The head lowered and I saw that it had pointed ears that protruded from either side of its head and swept backwards… then I saw the mouth… the maw of the monster! It gaped open to display sharply tipped teeth and fangs and seemed to wear… a wicked grin, full of malevolence. I shook with fear but eventually recalled that I held the shotgun… I blinked away my locked, tunneled gaze and raised the stock to my shoulder. As I tucked the butt into my shoulder, “in the pocket” I saw that there was nothing ahead of me. Nothing hiding behind the yaupon…
It had gotten ever darker while the creature and I had stood, eyeing one another in challenge and fear respectively. I heard some rustles out in the woods. The smell dissipated, the sounds of other creatures returned as though they’d been muted and then the audio had been switched on again… I backed a few steps, then turned and quickly made my way back to my yard, to the safety of my property, to my girl Lacy. As I left behind the last of the trees, I saw that more time had passed than I’d realized. It was nearing full on dark. I felt the need to get into the shelter of my house, so I picked up the pace again, my knees screaming at the effort. As I reached the porch, the howl bellowed forth once more. Once more just inside the line of trees. The vomit inducing stench assailed my olfactory sense once more…
I scrambled inside and there was Lacy. She faced the now closed door and her best friend, who leaned back against it as though it could stop that… that thing outside! She lowered her head and growled fiercely, not at all like anything I’d ever heard from her. I soon realized that she did not growl at me but at whatever was treading on the floorboards of my porch!
I stepped away from the door and faced the front windows, all the while shifting the barrel between them, trying to follow the tread of an obviously heavy… animal? Person? Being? I had no idea but was adamantly sure that I didn’t want to know. The screech of razor talons scratching the wood on the front door sounded and Lacy let out a bark. The sound caused me to flinch and against all my years of practice in keeping my finger off the trigger until I was ready to fire… I fired!
The boom startled me even more than the bark as the butt of the 12 GA slammed into my shoulder and my ears instantly filled and began to ring. The stench of cordite rose from the chamber and the end of the barrel and for a brief instant overrode the foulness of the monster as I instinctively used my grip on the fore-stock to eject the first round and shoved it forward to load the next. The first round had been buckshot and I now had a nice fat hole just above and to the left of the doorknob, where I’d been hovering the barrel. There was a scream of agony and surprise from the front porch… a deep coarse sound that hinted of rage-filled pain.
Lacy growled and barked and I could just hear her as my poor damaged ears continued to ring. When did I take off the safety? My mind wondered. The question was irrelevant but under pressure, the mind wanders in many directions at once. As all of these events occurred almost at once, my perceptions were somewhat overwhelmed. Before I had a chance to sort through all of the rubbish of my synapses, the door burst inward, shards of wood and spalls of glass flying haphazardly toward us.
I stumbled backwards and all but fell as the huge, fur and hair covered monstrosity raged into my home in a snarling fit of rage. I’d pulled up the muzzle of the shotgun and tucked my face into the crook of my elbow to protect my eyes. Before I could recover enough to get the barrel back on line, the beast was upon me. It swatted aside the barrel and its claws raked my arm, then it raised its other… hand to shred me… Before the frighteningly swift beast could strike again, a reddish blonde streak shoved past my left shoulder and slammed into the thing’s chest. Lacy!
Yet it couldn’t be Lacy, this animal was much larger and more muscular. The front legs had elongated and the paws had morphed into… clawed hands. The larger home invader gripped Lacy and flung her across the room. She impacted the wall farthest from the front door and slumped onto the floor. I was instantly furious and pulled the buttstock into the center of my chest and fired my next round into the monster
‘s chest, just below the throat. It’s response barely registered as I pumped in another round and fired, then another, and then the fifth and final round. These four had been rifled slugs. The bipedal big bad werewolf lay sprawled backward on the floor, its upper body resting on my favorite rocking chair, and bleeding on an afghan my wife had knitted for me... Bastard!
Lacy was on it in a moment… apparently she’d recovered from the stunning wall slam almost immediately. She had the thing supine and was dragging it across the floor toward the front door, her jaws clamped on top of its right shoulder at the neck and her head working side to side. When she realized that it was no longer alive, she released it. To my astonishment, she drew up onto her hind legs… her shoulders and chest had become relatively massive… She threw back her head and… howled! The roar overcame even the tinnitus from the sound of the 12 GA rounds. It was the same I’d heard from the wood line… the same as from the now dead fiend lying just inside my front door.
She slowly lowered her head and looked toward me. She wore a sinister grin that quickly turned to… embarrassment? She looked down, clearly abashed and then sprung through what was left of the front door of our home and ran into the darkness, once again on all fours…
I was in too much shock to even shout after her. At that point, I wasn’t sure that I wanted her to come back inside… Then the awful odor rose from the carcass in front of me. The creature seemed to… melt. The features morphed and collapsed until there was a dead, naked woman stretched out before me. Her hair was long and stringy and dirty. She was hairy from head to toe and filthy. A pile of putrid fur and flesh outlined her corpse. The mass looked like large dog roadkill that had been run over several times and left to sit in the hot sun for a few days. It smelled like it too, I realized as I leaned forward and vomited onto the body, adding my own stink…
**** * ****
How am I going to explain this? I asked myself as I awaited the deputies. After I’d recovered from the initial shock, I realized that I had a set of claw marks on my left arm and forearm. I’d set the shotgun aside, definitely didn’t want to have that in hand when rural sheriff’s deputies responded to a homicide…
**** * ****
It went better if more strangely than I’d anticipated. I met the deputies outside and pointed toward the dead woman-thing. The foulness had driven me out into the fresh night air. I warned the two as they drew their sidearms and stalked into my house… they didn’t pay attention and both quickly fled back out onto the porch. Once of them leaned over the far rail to lose his supper. Sorry dude, I tried to warn you, I thought uncharitably.
Eventually they recovered and cleared my home and one took my statement while the other called in the ambulance crew and used his phone to call their boss. It was going to be another long night…
**** * ****
The lead EMS employee looked at my scratches. She let the deputies take a few photos and then bandaged them. Around the gouges the skin showed definite signs of irritation. “Sir, you can drive yourself or we can take you but you really need to have an ER doc look at them.” She glanced at the S.O. Lieutenant to confirm that I would be free to seek treatment.
He nodded and stepped forward, “Mr. Brooks, Sheriff Scoggins and the Justice of the Peace are on the way. Do you think you could wait until they officially clear the scene before you seek treatment?”
I agreed. The paramedic looked at the Lt. and I and then shrugged, “Your call sir but please, you really need to see someone soon. There will definitely be infection; in fact I believe there already is. Don’t see many that take hold so rapidly.”
**** * ****
The Sheriff himself arrived within a few minutes, with the Justice of the Peace in tow. There was no county coroner or medical examiner in this rural corner of the county, the JP would be there to make a death ruling. Pretty easy. In the time since the deputies arrived, more of the flesh had fallen from the woman’s body. No one could or would go near the reeking mass any more than necessary but when the Sheriff and JP viewed the pictures that the first arriving units had taken, they both looked shocked. They looked at each other in silent communication and then at me. Sheriff Cloud spoke first, “Mr. Brooks, just how did you know the lady in question?”
I peered at him, a little puzzled, “Know her? The first time I saw her, she was hiding out in the woods, wearing some kind of costume, like a werewolf… Next time, she burst through my front door and raked me with her talons.”
He grunted slightly, “Was there anyone else here, anyone who may corroborate your story?”
I shrugged, “Just my dog, Lacy but she ran off into the trees, likely in fear of the shotgun rounds. She bit that thin… that woman, dragged her from where she… fell.” I added hesitantly.
The Sheriff glanced at the JP, who nodded her approval. “Look, this is clearly a homicide.” He quickly raised his hands, “Not a murder, ‘homicide’ just means that one person killed another. The means and motive provide the category of the homicide and determine whether there was a crime. She clearly burst through your door and your wounds are obviously defensive from an investigative standpoint The DA will have to corroborate but at this time, it’s my call that this was self-defense and we won’t be seeking any criminal charges.” He paused and took a breath, ”Are you familiar with or have you heard the name, Lacy Elbert?”
I started at the name, and quickly explained, “Lacy is my dog’s name. I picked her up at the shelter up in town… oh, about a month ago. I don’t recall hearing the name ‘Elbert’ at all… Wait, I think there’s a local family by that name or maybe I read it I the local… Yep, that’s it. There was a story on the, ‘Hometown News’ site. Something about her missing or… no, you were looking for her, she was wanted. Some kind of assault or murder… You mean that’s her? The same woman?”
The pair of public officials paused and then in unison, like a pair of bauble head dolls, nodded. The JP took a turn, “We believe that Lacy may have been responsible for killing her parents and boyfriend and possibly some others. We have DN… well, we have some evidence to that effect, though we’re not really at liberty to discuss it at this time. From your standpoint, I think it is safe to say that you are unlikely to face charges. We still have to complete an investigation and of course the DA’s Office will have to review…”
I barely heard the rest in my rush of relief. It was indeed a long night and the sun was up before the final first responders left my property. They’d already processed the scene and just as the first rays of the sun broke the horizon, they carted off the now putrid mass of gunk and bones. The stench was reduced a little, the crime scene team had applied some solutions to the affected areas to prevent contamination. That odd, rapid deterioration made it clear that there was something different about this case.
I really wanted a shower and a nap before I drove to the ER. I thought that maybe I could get an appointment with my regular doc instead... Then I saw her. My pup, my Lacy, hobbled tiredly from the tree line and toward the house. We would both need a bath, she was filthy… but she looked like her old self and she perked up a little and gave me a goofy smile as she trotted to my side… Oh, she reeked!
**** * ****
I was too tired to make her a bath, so I coaxed her over to the garden hose and washed off most of the gunk. As I rubbed her as clean as I could without shampoo, I noted that she had developed some serious musculature and I was sure that she had grown… odd crap happening with my dog, I thought worriedly.
Once the major chunks were left behind in the yard and Lacy’d had a good shake, we went into the house and I took a shower. She was clingy, so I let her join me in the walk-in enclosure and we both scrubbed with shampoo. I knew she’d make a mess when she got out and shook but I didn’t want her on the furniture or carpet until the dirt and stink were gone. As I bent down to scrub her, she turned and spewed her dragon breath into my face. So much for the too expensive teeth cleaning!
**** * ****
Once we were both clean and as dry as we could be, I called my doc and got in the last appointment of the day at 2 p.m. I set the alarm on my phone and then literally crashed into the bed. My last thought was that I would need to rent a carpet cleaner… scratch that, I’d need to get rid of the rug by the front door… oh, wait, the Crime Scene Techs had taken it for evidence… hmmmm… my last sensation was Lacy snuggling in beside me. She felt warmer than usual, almost like she had a fever…
…I was running through the forest… my breath was ragged and I was panting… my tongue lolled out the side of my mouth and drool dripped onto the pine straw below. I looked downward and saw… paws! I had paws! Then I smelled something… normally I would have gagged at the odor but now it smelled intriguing, even… enticing… I ran toward the delectable smell, the smell of blood… the smell of food! I burst through a stand of brush and into a small clearing by a cattle pond. I recognized it; Lacy and I had found it not far into the woods and near an abandoned property next to ours… The carcass of some unfortunate animal lay on the edge of the clearing next to the water. A pair of turkey vultures gnawed at some delectable pieces but fled when I appeared, all the while issuing a deep growl from the depths of my throat. I stalked over to the pond and checked my reflection in the still water, to see what I already knew to be. As I lowered my head over the water, I saw pointed ears that swept back above a furry face…
…and then the alarm sounded. It was time to get up, get dressed, and go see Dr. Castillo. My wounds felt hot and swollen but I figured it would be best to wait for the doctor to remove the bandages. I didn’t check but I was sure I had a fever. As I passed through the front entrance to my house, no door left, I had to stop and lean over the rail and gag and dry heave for a moment from the rancid stench of death and rot masked only slightly by a chemical odor.
Lacy had accompanied me onto the porch, not like I could stop her but I didn’t think my doc would like for her to go inside and I didn’t want to leave her in the truck, so I convinced her to go back inside and wait. “It’s okay girl, just going to the next town over; big city in this part of the world. After I see ole grouchy Roberto, I’m sure I’ll have to go by the pharmacy. I’ll get you some of the treats you like.” She listened to me intently, as though she genuinely understood the words I spoke; not in the silly way that dogs sometimes seem to understand… she actually grinned and… nodded. Then she turned on her heels and walked back inside the house. Apparently the foul odor near the front entrance didn’t bother her as she planted her behind on the floor where the rug and the body had rested. She struck up the, “doggie seated at the front door waiting patiently” pose and drooled onto the floor a little.
I left what was left of the front door ajar. I thought of hanging a sheet or some plastic over it but one, I wanted the air to circulate and remove more of the stink and two, I felt awful… I didn’t feel like driving the nearly forty miles to see my doctor, much less making home repairs but it was clearly becoming critical…
**** * ****
…I managed to make to it not only to the doctor’s office but inside. I’d only seen Dr. Castillo twice before, so we were still new to each other. Still, he took one look and asked, “Why didn’t you just go to the Emergency Room? I’m happy to take care of you but this should not have waited.”
“Doc, I was exhausted and sleepy like I’ve rarely ever been. That crazy woman who attacked me, I’m sure she had plenty of unsavory substances beneath her claw… er, nails. As it is, I barely made it to your office.”
He nodded, “Yep, typical hard-headed old man… much like me.” He chuckled a little, “You know you have a higher fever than should be the case with such a recent infection. And yes, the wounds are infected… We will need to…”
A roaring noise supplanted his voice in my ears and my vision shrank into a long grey tunnel and then into the dark cave of unconsciousness…
**** * ****
Well eventually, I either had to die or regain my senses… apparently I’d accomplished the latter when my eyes fluttered open and after a moment of gummy blur, I made out the face of a nurse and the bland, basic tones of a hospital room. “So how are we feeling now Mr. Brooks, any better?”
I know I must have looked confused. Could she not tell that I was confused? What was wrong with her?! She’d been intelligent enough to pass her RN program but… Why am I so angry? I wondered. Not like me to be angry at anyone for no real reason.
Apparently she took my stupid, grouchy look to mean that I had no clue, which I didn’t. “Sir, you lost consciousness in Dr. Castillo’s office. He brought you over here to the Emergency Room. That was a few hours ago. You have infected wounds and a fever. Is there anyone you’d like to us to call for you?”
My throat was dry as the Mojave but I managed to croak out, “No, I live alone… oh, wait, my dog, Lacy. Not sure whom to call…” I realized I was in one of those awful hospital gowns. “Where’s my phone? For that matter, where are my pants?”
**** * ****
We eventually sorted out my belongings and clothing. Doctor Castillo had admitted me for an overnight stay for observation. Dr. Stone meanwhile had decided that she’d take a house call, collect Lacy, and keep her at the clinic overnight. She’d also contact the Sheriff’s Office and get them to check on the house overnight. What a sweet lady I thought as I clicked off my phone.
She texted me back before long and told me that she had been unable to locate Lacy. She had looked and called but could not find her, so she set out some food and water and would wait another hour. I sent back that in addition to paying her fee, that I’d like to take her out to dinner when I was back on my feet. I was surprised when she quickly responded that she’d like that… Lacy didn’t show and I quickly fell into a deep sleep… no dreams this time…
**** * ****
I was cleared to go home late the next morning. My fever had dissipated and my welts looked to become an impressive set of scars about which I could tell lies… uh, brag! I was still weak but felt up to driving. I was worried about Lacy and I couldn’t believe that I’d asked Dr. Stone on a date! Well, I equivocated internally, just dinner… I stopped at the pharmacy for my new prescription for Cipro and some pain meds that I’d try to avoid taking. I kept my promise and picked up a box of Lacy’s favorite treats. Hopefully she’d have returned, likely just out exploring.
I drove up toward the side of the house and there she was, sitting on the front porch, tail pounding, all fear from the past days apparently wiped from her short memory. She looked… different. Her fuzzy puppy hair had straightened and she had apparently grown more, she’d definitely bulked up, the muscle definition along her front legs and in the thighs of her back legs stood out clearly. She bounded toward me and as weak as I felt, I feared that she might topple me but she slowed at the last moment and reared up on her hind legs. She threw her front legs and paws around me and gave me an all too human hug. My dog had definitely become a stranger!
**** * ****
Later that day, we platzed on the sofa and watched TV, not something we did too often… not much worth watching, just dreck and drivel… again with the grouchy, nearly angry thoughts? I still felt awful and before I knew it, I awoke to late-afternoon sun pouring through one of the living room windows. Guess TV was even more boring than usual, I thought as I blinked away the drowsiness… oh right, I mused, I took one of the prescription pain pills before I arrived home. The odor of something savory wafted in from the dining area…
I creaked and groaned my way to my feet… nothing unusual, something always hurt these days. The muting effect of the pain medicine had worn off and I was hurting enough that I feared that I would not die (internal laugh, I got that one from Rhonda). There was a freshly heated microwave dinner on the table! Weird, I didn’t recall getting up and making that… I looked over toward the front, “entrance”; couldn’t really call it a, “door” since there wasn’t one. Yet there was a nice sheet of heavy plastic over the damaged portal. The very piece from the garage I’d had in mind. Definitely didn’t remember getting up to do that! I considered the possibilities:
1. I was on more or better drugs than I realized
2. I’d snapped
3. A good Samaritan had come in and set up everything while I rested; maybe Doctor Stone!
4. The Good Folk, The Fae had come at last and put up my door and made a meal for me… now I’d have to put out milk and treats for Them…
I went with number one for the time being. I must have been semi-lucid… maybe I’d taken another pill? No idea but I was hungry. The infection had left me nauseous until I fell asleep on the couch, now I was ravenous. I quickly devoured the meatball and pasta dinner, cleaned up and then more closely inspected the temporary repair work on the front door. Yep, I realized, it had definitely been number one, it was clearly the work of an intoxicated person. I guessed that didn’t rule out number two… Still, it was weird. I’d never had a, “lost time” episode… good dope!
I heard a rush of feet coming down the stairs, Lacy had run up while I’d consumed supper. I looked over to the table and there she stood… uh, stood?! Well, her front paws were splayed on the table top… just a doggie lean, Whew! Those pain killers... Odd that she’d taken to standing on her hind legs so much. She had been good about jumping on me only during play… then today there was the hug and now this. Dang! Her front paws have gotten huge! Nails definitely needed trimming. “Lacy, you know better, off the table.” She looked at me, confused, then a little… annoyed? Before she dropped backward onto her haunches and stared at me expectantly. “Thank you dear lady.” I said and gave her a little bow. She gave me a radiant pooch smile.
My reverie over the mysteries of my meal and the door repairs was short lived. I took my evening dose and went up to bed. I heard Lacy trundle up behind me but I didn’t look at her, it was what I’d expected her to do; what she always did. At the top of the stairs, I felt the blood rush into my head and I became suddenly dizzy. I snatched at the stair rail as I tumbled backward. Then my fall was arrested and I was gently pushed back onto my feet. I stumbled onto the top landing and looked back to see Lacy on her hind feet once again, now wearing a look of concern. She caught me and set me on my feet! I thought in astonishment and almost experienced another head rush. “What’s up with you, silly dog?” I murmured as I turned and shuffled down the hallway to my room. After a moment, I heard her feet padding along behind me…
**** * ****
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War & Peace - Chapters 10, 11, 12 (Full Text, Ander Louis Translation)

WAR & PEACE - Book 1, Chapter 10
Written by Leo Tolstoy, Translated by Ander Louis
Prince Vasíli was true to his word, and followed up on what he promised Princess Drubetskáya at Anna Pávlovna’s soiree. He put in a good word to the Emperor about her son Borís, an exception was made, and Borís was transferred into the regiment of Semënov Guards with the rank of cornet. So that was sick. But he didn’t get appointed to Kutúzov’s staff, despite how desperately Anna Mikháylovna kissed arse, trying to get the hook up. Soon after Anna Pávlovna’s reception Anna Mikháylovna returned to Moscow and went straight to stay with her rich relations the Rostóvs. She always stayed with the Rostóvs when in Moscow. It was where her precious boy Bóry, who had only just entered a regiment of the line and was being transferred to the Guards as a cornet, had been educated since he was knee high to a grasshopper. He’d lived at the Rostóvs’ for years at a time. The Guards had already left Petersburg on the tenth of August, and her son, who had remained in Moscow for his equipment, was to join them on the march to Radzivílov.
It was St. Natalia’s day - which was the name day of two of the Rostóvs: the mother and the youngest daughter, both being named Nataly. All day since morning carriages had been rolling up, big posh ones with six horses pulling them, bringing a continual stream of visitors to the Rostóv household - an enormous house on Povarskaya Street, very well known to all of Moscow. The countess herself and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing room entertaining the well-wishers who arrived in wave after wave.
The countess was forty-something, and her face was sort of Oriental looking, and looked like it’d done some city miles. Having twelve kids will do that to ya… She moved and spoke in a relaxed, calm way, as a result of her exhaustion, and this gave her a distinguished air which inspired respect. Princess Anna Mikháylovna Drubetskáya, who was also a member of the household, was seated in the drawing room too, and she was helping receive and entertain visitors. The youngsters were in another room, an inner room. They figured they weren’t really needed in the busy drawing room. The count met the guests and saw them off, inviting them all to return later for dinner.
‘Thanks heaps for coming, mon chere,’ or ‘mon chère’ - he called everyone ‘my dear’ without exception, and without the slightest change in tone whether they were above or below him in rank - ‘Really, thank you, from me and from my two whose name day we’re celebrating. You’re more than welcome to come back for dinner. In fact we’d be disappointed if you didn’t, ma chère’. I’m sure I speak on behalf of everyone when I say we’d love you to come, mon cher.’ He said these exact phrases to everyone, without variation, with the same big cheerful grin on his full, clean-shaven face, the same firm handshake, and the same quick, repeated bows. As soon as he’d seen off whoever was leaving he’d go back into the drawing room, pull up a chair near the remaining guests, and sit lazily with his legs spread and his hands on his knees, like a big goofy king, happy in his kingdom. He swayed to and fro with dignity, chinwagging about the weather, questions of health, normal chit-chat, sometimes in Russian and sometimes in bad French, which he spoke with absolute confidence. And then, when the moment came, he would jump up, weary but committed to his duty, to see off some more guests who were leaving, stroking his thinning grey hair backward and inviting them to dinner. Sometimes on his way back from the anteroom he’d pass through the conservatory and pantry, poking his head into the large marble dining hall, where tables were being set for eighty people; and looking at the footmen, who were bringing in silver and china, setting up tables, and laying damask table linens, he would call Dmítri Vasílevich, a man from a good family who managed his affairs and accounts, and while looking at the giant table would say: ‘Keeping on top of things, mate? Good man. Ripper of a feast… This will be brilliant!’ And with a sigh and a shrug he would return to the drawing room.
The countess’s footman - who was an absolute unit of a man - entered the drawing room and announced in his deep bass voice: ‘Márya Lvóvna Karágina and her daughter!’ The countess reflected a moment and took a pinch from a gold snuffbox with her husband’s portrait on it.
‘I’m getting over it now, all these visitors. I’ll still see her though, but no more after that. She’s a bit out of whack, ask her to come in,’ she said to the footman in a sad voice, as if saying: ‘Ah, to hell with it, just finish me off already…’
A tall, stocky, and proud-looking woman, with a round-faced smiling daughter, entered the drawing room, their dresses rustling.
‘Ah, dear Countess! What a time … She’s been out of it, poor kid … At the Razumóvskis’ ball … and Countess Apráksina … I was really pleased …’ came the sounds of excitable feminine voices, interrupting each other and mingling with the rustling of dresses and scraping of chairs. Then one big long conversation started that wound here and there and ended in ‘I’m so glad … Mamma’s health … Countess Apráksina …’ and then there was some more rustling of dresses as they moved back out to the anteroom, cloaks and mantles were put on, and the final guests drove away. They had been talking about the chief topic of the day: the severe illness of the filthy-fucking-rich golden-child of Catherine’s day: Count Bezúkhov, and about his illegitimate son Pierre (the very same Pierre who had behaved so poorly at Anna Pávlovna’s reception, with all his pro-Napoleon talk).
‘Yeah, I feel so bad for the poor count,’ said the visitor. ‘He’s not in good nick… And now this new rumour about his son - that’ll be the end of him!’
‘What rumour?’ asked the countess, as if she didn’t already know what the visitor was alluding to, though she’d heard about the cause of Count Bezúkhov’s distress a dozen-odd times.
‘That’s what good a “modern education” does,’ said the visitor. ‘I reckon while he was overseas this young man was allowed to do whatever he wanted, and now he’s in Petersburg being a total dickhead. He was expelled by the police!’
‘No kidding?’ replied the countess.
‘He chose to hang around with a bunch of silly larakins,’ interposed Anna Mikháylovna. ‘Prince Vasíli’s son Anatole, Pierre, and a certain Dólokhov have - apparently - been up to all kinds of mischief. And they’ve paid the price: Dólokhov has been demoted to the ranks, and Bezúkhov’s son sent back to Moscow. Vasíli Kurágin has managed to get his son Anatole off the hook, for the most part - but even he has been asked to leave Petersburg.’
‘But what did they do?’ asked the countess.
‘They’re absolute rascals! Dickheads! Especially that Dólokhov,’ replied the visitor. ‘He’s one of Márya Ivánovna Dólokhova’s sons. She’s a great woman… and that’s her son? Imagine: the three dipshits got hold of a bear - God knows how - put it in a carriage, and took off to visit some “actresses”. The police tried to intervene and what do you think the young men did? They tied a policeman to the bear. Back to back - tied them together - then threw them in the Moyka Canal. And then the bear just swam around the canal with the struggling policeman stuck to his back.’
‘Ha! The policeman must have loved that! He’ll never live that one down!’ shouted the count, laughing his arse off.
‘That’s shockin! How can you laugh at that, Count?’
But the ladies’ stern faces cracked, and they burst into laughter too.
‘They barely managed to rescue the poor bugger,’ continued the visitor. ‘And we’re talking about the son of Cyril Vladímirovich Bezúkhov, out there acting like such a fine gentleman… And he was supposed to be so well educated and switched on... I blame his foreign education, that’s what’s made him so unhinged. I hope that he’s shunned here in Moscow, even with all his money. They wanted to introduce him to me but I told em to stick it. I’ve gotta consider my daughters.’
‘Money? Pierre doesn’t have money, what are you on about?’ asked the countess, turning away from the girls, who at once acted like they weren’t interested. ‘Cyril Vladímirovich Bezúkhov’s children are all illegitimate, including Pierre, as far as I know.’
The visitor made a gesture with her hand.
‘I reckon he’s got a shit tonne of them.’
Princess Anna Mikháylovna just had to throw in her two-cents here, clearly wanting to show off her connections and knowledge of what went on in society.
‘The simple fact is this:’ she spoke in a very gossipy half-whisper, leaning forward, ‘everyone knows Count Cyril is a massive slut… Even he’s lost count of his children. But Pierre has always been his favourite.’
‘Ah, mate… He was such a looker, that Cyril. Even a year ago,’ remarked the countess. ‘I reckon he’s the best lookin man I ever saw.’
‘Yeah well, that was a year ago. Today he looks like a melted candle,’ said Anna Mikháylovna. ‘Anyway, as I was saying, Prince Vasíli is the next heir to Cyril’s fortune, through his wife, but the count is pretty keen on his boy Pierre… He looked after his education, even wrote to the Emperor about him. So when he dies - which, by the way might be very soon; Dr Lorrain has already come from Petersburg - when he dies, no one knows what will happen with his fortune, if it will go to his boy Pierre, or to Prince Vasíli. We’re talkin forty thousand serfs and millions of rubles! Trust me, it’s true, Prince Vasíli himself told me. Besides, Cyril Vladímirovich is my mother’s second cousin, so we’re basically family. Oh, and he’s Bóry’s godfather,’ she added, as if she attached no importance at all to that fact.
‘Prince Vasíli arrived in Moscow yesterday. I heard he’s here on some inspection business,’ remarked the visitor.
‘Ha! Yeah, “inspection business,”’ said the princess. ‘Sure. Between you, me, and the fence post - that’s just a cover. He’s really here to see Count Cyril Vladímirovich, knowing how ill he is.’
‘Ha!’ The count laughed suddenly. ‘Tied to a bear… Classic!’ he said, and noticing that the elder visitors were paying him no attention whatsoever, he turned to the young ladies. ‘Can you imagine? How would he have looked! What a pisser! He’ll never live it down, that policeman! Tied to a bear!’
And as he waved his arms wildly to impersonate the policeman, his beer-belly and man-boobs shook with a deep ringing laugh, the easy laugh of a man who always eats well and definitely drinks well. ‘So, do come and dine with us!’ he said.
WAR & PEACE - Book 1, Chapter 11
Written by Leo Tolstoy, Translated by Ander Louis
The room was silent for a beat. The countess looked nervously at her callers, wearing a fake smile which failed to conceal that she wouldn’t be at all bothered if they got up to leave now. The visitor’s daughter was already smoothing her dress, shooting a meaningful look at her mother, when suddenly from the next room there was a commotion. There was the sound of boys and girls running to the door, the thud of a chair being knocked over, and then a girl of thirteen came barrelling into the room, hiding something in the folds of her dress. It was obvious that she hadn’t meant to come into the room. Behind her in the doorway appeared a student with a crimson coat collar, an officer of the Guards, a fifteen-year-old girl, and a boy with a chubby red face wearing a short jacket.
The count sprung to his feet and moved, swaying side to side, quickly over to the girl who had run in, and threw his arms around her.
‘Ah! Here she is!’ he laughed. ‘My darling whose name day it is. My darling girl.’
‘Ma chere! Don’t encourage her!’ said the countess with feigned severity. ‘You’d let her get away with murder, I swear, Ilyá…’ she added, addressing her husband.
‘I wish you a happy name day, my dear. How are ya? Good?’ said the visitor. ‘What a charmer she is,’ she added to the countess.
This black-eyed girl, not pretty but with an attractive, broad smile - with childish bare shoulders which after running in now heaved and shook her body, and with black curls tossed backwards, thin bare arms, little legs in lace-frilled drawers, and feet in low slippers - was just at the in-between age where she wasn’t a child any more, but not quite a young woman either. Extracting herself from her father’s hug, she ran to her mother, hiding her red face in her mother’s mantilla. She paid no attention as her mother made a severe remark, and began laughing. She took the doll out from the folds of her frock, and in fragmentary sentences between laughs, tried to explain the joke.
‘Mimi … My doll … See? She … Do you see?’ was all Natásha managed to get out - for at that moment everything was way too funny to her. She leaned against her mother and let the laughter ring out of her in such a fit that their visitors couldn’t help but join in.
‘Alright, get outta here, and take that monstrosity with you,’ said her mother, but her sternness was now playful, and turning to her visitor she added: ‘She’s my youngest girl,’ with a shrug.
Natásha, lifted her face from her mother’s mantilla, glanced at her through tears of laughter, then quickly hid her face again.
The visitor, watching this family scene unfold, couldn’t help but get involved, playing along with Natásha.
‘Natásha, sweetie - tell me, is Mimi a relation of yours? Your daughter, maybe?’
Natásha suddenly turned serious, and shot the visitor a confused look, like ‘Are you an idiot?’ It wasn’t anything that childish, thought Natásha.
Meanwhile, the younger generation: Borís (the officer, Anna Mikháylovna’s son), Nicholas (the undergraduate, the count’s oldest boy), Sónya (the count’s fifteen-year-old niece), and little Pétya (his youngest boy), had all filtered into the drawing room, trying to shake their giddiness and match the more civilised mood of this room. It was clear that whatever had been happening in the back rooms was far more wild and hilarious than what was happening in this one, with its seats, and old people, and talk of society, scandals, the weather, and Countess Apráksina. They readied themselves to participate in this grown-up conversation, and not to meet each other’s eyes, but now and then they would, and then they had to try hard to suppress their laughter.
The two young fellas - the student who was their eldest and the officer whose mother was akin to dogshit on Vasíli’s shoe - were about the same age and had been good mates since childhood. They were both handsome lads, in their own ways. Borís was tall and fair, he had a calm and handsome face, quite normal looking, with delicate features. Nicholas was short, his hair held Rostóv curls, and his upper lip already had a few dark hairs popping through. His expression was open and enthusiastic, betraying a hint of naïve eagerness. He blushed when they had entered the drawing room, trying to find something to say, but failing to come up with anything. Borís nailed it though, proving quite able to find his footing in any social situation. He quipped - rather calmly - that he had known Mimi since she was a young lady doll, before her nose was broken, and how she had aged poorly during the five years he had known her, her head now being cracked right across the skull. Saying this he glanced at Natásha. She couldn’t stand to look at him, the impulse to laugh being too great, so she instead turned to her younger brother Pétya, who was screwing up his face and shaking with suppressed laughter. She couldn’t control herself any longer - she jumped up and bolted out of the room as fast as her nimble little feet would carry her. Borís did not laugh.
‘You’re heading out soon, right Mum? Did you want the carriage?’ he asked his mother with a smile.
‘Yeah, could you please go tell them to get it ready?’ she answered, returning his smile.
Borís quietly left the room and went in search of Natásha. The plump boy named Pétya ran after them, as if pissy that their game had been interrupted.
WAR & PEACE - Book 1, Chapter 12
Written by Leo Tolstoy, Translated by Ander Louis
The only young people left in the drawing room - not including the young lady visitor, or the countess’s eldest daughter (who was four years older than her younger sister Natásha, and tried to act like a grown up), were Nicholas, the eldest boy, and Sónya, the niece. Sónya was a skinny little thing, with brown hair in two thick plaits that coiled twice around her head, caring eyes with long lashes, and a tawny tan in her complexion. She moved with grace, with a certain softness and flexibility about her slender but muscular limbs and a coyness in her reserved manner that brought to mind a half-grown kitten which might one day make a very good cat. She was doing a decent job of following the conversation of the room, showing respectful interest in what others said and smiling pleasantly, but in spite of herself, she couldn’t keep her eyes off her cousin Nicholas, the one who was joining the army. She was into him real bad, with a girlish passion - her smile could not for a moment fool anyone - and it was clear that this little kitten had only settled in the drawing room for a moment, and would spring up full of beans to play with her cousin as soon as they could escape the drawing room, as Natásha and Borís had already done.
’Yep, my dear,’ said the count, addressing the visitor and pointing a thumb to Nicholas, ‘this one’s leaving me - his poor old man - to join the military service. His friend Borís has become an officer, and Nicholas here’s such a good friend that he’s leaving university to go with him. We even had a place for him at the Archives Department ready to go! Now that’s a good friend, don’t ya reckon?’ remarked the count thoughtfully.
‘But they reckon war has been declared,’ said the visitor.
‘Ah, they always say that, it’s just something they say,’ said the count. ‘They used to say it, they still do, and they always will. Tell ya what, that’s real friendship for you though. He’s joining the hussars.’
The visitor had no response for this, so she shook her head.
‘That’s not why I’m going,’ declared Nicholas, arcing up and turning away as if from a shameful accusation. ‘I’m not going cos of Borís, or cos of friendship. I’m going cos the army is my vocation.’
He shot a look at his cousin and then at the young lady visitor; both were watching him with adoring eyes.
‘Schubert’s coming for dinner today, the colonel of the Pávlograd Hussars. He’s been here on leave and he’ll be taking Nicholas back with him. It’s done now, no going back from here!’ said the count, with a shrug of his thick shoulders and a playful tone which failed to mask that the topic shook him up a bit.
‘I’ve told you already, Papa,’ said his son, ‘if you don’t want me to go, I won’t. But I’m useless here, the army is the only place I’m any use. I’m no diplomat, I’m no government clerk… Sorry, I have no filter, I just say stuff.’ As he spoke he kept glancing over at Sónya and the young visitor with a flirtatious look on his handsome youthful face.
The little kitten was feasting her eyes on him. She seemed ready to drop her civilised air and start her kitten-gambols again and pounce on him.
‘Aright-aright-aright!’ said the old count. ‘He always arcs up like this. Bloody Buonaparte has got em all amped up - they all froth over how he started as an ensign and ended up an emperor. Yeah, well, good luck to em…’ he added, not noticing his visitor’s sarcastic smile.
The elders began talking about Bonaparte. Julie Karágina - the younger visitor - turned to young Nicholas Rostóv.
‘Shame you weren’t at the Arkhárovs’ on Thursday. No fun without you there,’ she said, smiling tenderly.
The young lad was flattered and sat down nearer to her with a playful smile. He locked the smiling Julie into an intimate conversation, not noticing that his goofy, uncontrollable smile was making young Sónya feel like she was being shivved in the heart. Sónya blushed and smiled unnaturally. In the middle of his conversation he glanced at Sónya. She was staring daggers at him, and while Nicholas quietly shat himself, she got up and swiftly left the room, and though she managed to wear her artificial smile all the way to the door, tears were showing in her eyes. The wind was now thoroughly knocked out of Nicholas’s sails. He waited for the first pause in the conversation, and then with a worried expression left the room to find Sónya.
‘Trouble in paradise, eh? Ah, youths… Can’t help but wear their hearts on their sleeves!’ said Anna Mikháylovna, pointing to Nicholas as he went out. ‘Cousinage - dangereux voisinage,’ she added. (Cousinhood is a dangerous neighbourhood.)
‘Yes,’ said the countess, once the brightness that the youngsters brought to the room had faded and as if answering a question no one had asked but was plaguing her mind, ‘and all the stress and anxiety we’ve been through to get them to here. And even now there’s more anxiety than joy. It’s never bloody ending! Especially at this age - there’s so much they could fuck up, my head spins!’
‘It all depends how they’re brought up,’ said the visitor.
‘Yeah, true,’ continued the countess. ‘Till now I’ve always - thank god - been close with the kids. They trust me and tell me everything,’ said she, repeating the misguided sentiment of so many parents who trust that their children don’t keep secrets from them. ‘I know I’ll always be my daughters’ first confidante, and that when Nicholas - being the scallywag that he is - does get into mischief (boys will be boys, after all), he will at least never be as bad as those Petersburg boys.’
‘Yeah they are marvellous, marvellous kids,’ chimed in the count, who always solved perplexing questions by declaring that everything was marvellous. ‘Bloody hell, hey? Wants to be an hussar. What are we supposed to do with that, my dear?’
‘Your girl is a charming little creature,’ said the visitor. ‘Real little volcano!’
‘Volcano is the word,’ said the count. ‘Takes after her old man! And I’ll tell ya something else: she has a set of pipes on her! You should hear her sing. I’m not just saying this cos she’s mine, but one day she’ll be a singer - a second Salomoni! We’ve got her a singing coach now, an Italian.’
‘Isn’t she too young? I’ve heard it’s bad for their voice, to train at that age.’
‘Nah-nah, she’ll be right,’ replied the count. ‘Our mothers were married by twelve or thirteen.’
‘And she’s already in love with Borís. Fancy that!’ said the countess with a gentle smile, looking at Borís even though he left the room in the previous chapter. She went on, evidently concerned with a thought that always occupied her: ‘Now, here’s what’s my problem: if I’m too strict and forbid the two from seeing each other, goodness knows what they’ll get up to on the sly’ (she meant they might sneak away for a pash), ‘but as it is, I know every secret she has. She comes running to me every evening, by herself, ready to spill the beans about everything. Maybe I spoil her, but I reckon that’s the best way to go about it. With her older sister I was stricter.’
‘Yeah, you brought me up very differently,’ remarked that older sister - the handsome Countess Véra, with a smile.
The smile was no good on her though. It didn’t make her more beautiful - as smiles usually do; on the contrary it uglied her up a little, making her expression unnatural and therefore unpleasant. Véra was a good-looking girl, and a good student, smart and well brought up. Her voice was pleasant, too, and what she said was perfectly true and appropriate, and yet, weirdly enough, everyone - the visitors, count, and countess alike - turned to look at her in overt confusion, as if they were all awkwardly wondering why she had said what she did.
‘People overdo it with their eldest kids, I reckon. They’re too clever about it, try too hard to make them something special,’ said the visitor.
‘No good in denying that - right my dear? My lovely wife was too clever with Véra,’ said the count. ‘But, ya know what? She turned out marvellously all the same,’ he added, winking at Véra.
The guests got up and left, promising to be back for dinner.
‘Far out, I thought they’d never leave. Unbelievable…’ said the countess, exasperated, once she had seen her guests out.
The Complete Bogan Translation of Book 1 is available now via:
It is my dream to translate the entire novel into Bogan. Your support on Patreon is appreciated!
submitted by AnderLouis_ to ayearofwarandpeace [link] [comments]

Analysis of the RWBY crew as seen from a BBTAG player

Hello, RWBY!
As the title infers, I'm currently playing BlazBlue Cross Tag Battle a lot since its release. After the recent release of the rest of the game's characters, I've finally decided to talk about my view of what may be the most interesting addition to the game: RWBY.
Most people did not expect that RWBY is going to get added to the game, and that includes me. Sure, RWBY had several games before this, but to collaborate with the Japanese FG giant Arc System Works is something beyond everyone. It's thrilling and unexpected, and analyzing the newly added characters is a lot of fun. So, without further ado, here we go!
Note that most of the things written here are based solely on my observation and findings.

General

Ruby Rose

Obviously RWBY's poster girl for BBTAG. Listed as the one of the cutest character in the game, Ruby dashes into the game together with Weiss, initially, with Blake and Yang later joining in separately.

Gameplay

Ruby is perhaps one of the most famous/infamous character in the game. Notoriously easy to use and highly effective, a combination of curiosity and proven effectiveness has made Ruby a popular pick for players. In fact, Ruby has the highest representation in this year's EVO tournament's Top 64, and the tournament's winner plays Ruby as well.
In-game, she uses her Semblance in tandem with Crescent Rose. Thanks to Crescent Rose, her attacks have a high range and fast attack speed, and her trademark recoil-plus-Semblance dash is also retained in the game.

Interactions

The first thing I notice about Ruby is that she is weapons-crazy. It is expected that the other universes in the game carry weapons that she may have never seen, and she spends most of the opportunity squealing and expressing her desire to inspect their weapons, with varying responses; potential victims include Ragna the Bloodedge's Aramasa, Es' Murakumo, Mai Natsume's Exseal, and the robot girls Aigis, Labrys and Vatista.
Ruby: Oh please, can't I see your sword? Just for a little bit?
Es: No.

Other interactions:

Ruby: I haven't met another scythe user in a really long time... Actually, Uncle Qrow might be the only one I know. Anyway, good work, old man!....
Gordeau: ...Do I really look that old? I've gotta take some time to process this...
Ruby: Oh yeah! Here comes Team Rose!
Rachel: Make light of the rose and you may get pricked.
Ruby: I've heard of people like you... yeah, samurai!
Yuzu: Well, I'm actually a guardian and not a samurai, but... oh, what the heck.
Yu: No worries! With my Persona and your Semblance combined, no enemy can stand against us!
Hyde: If you're scared, you can just stand back and watch.

Weiss Schnee

Makes up team RW, as Weiss puts it. Unfortunately, she is not that popular in terms of picks. Weiss remains the single RWBY character that is left unpicked in EVO's top 64, which is largely attributed to her mediocre moveset, apparent glitches, and the fact that there are other characters that can do her job better than her.

Gameplay

In the game, Weiss exhibits power over ice and wields Myrtenaster together with her Glyph Semblance - the glyphs are used either as footing for her attacks or bases for summoning icicles. Strangely, even though Myrtenaster's multi-colored Dust vials are visible in Weiss' sprite, she only uses her ice powers in the game.
Unlike the other RWBY girls, Weiss' advantage of creating mixups through her glyphs do not come naturally. She has to sacrifice her wake-up (okizeme) coverage or go through elaborate setups to prepare her glyphs.

Interactions

It is visible that the Ice Queen carries herself with pride. She accepts compliments from people like Vatista with a vibe that feels like 'yup, I deserve it'.
Vatista: Your capabilities have surpassed those of humans.
Weiss: Oh, have you noticed? I tend to agree.
She does not have much patience for people who do not follow her "plans", such as Makoto, Platinum and Nu.
Weiss (to Makoto): Why didn't you fight according to the plan!? We spent so much time devising and going over it!
Weiss (to Nu): Do you mind!? It's fine to improvise, but would you at least mind listening to your leader's instructions a LITTLE?
On the other hand, she displays a level of respect towards remarkable people such as Yu and fellow rapier wielders Orie and Mitsuru.
Weiss: One should always strive to be the best version of herself. I want to be the best partner you could have.
Orie: Hehe, what a wonderful thought. Then I too promise to be your best possible partner, as long as time permits.
Strangely, she also has affinity with fire-wielding characters such as Yukiko and Nine - the things they say there make for great one-liners!
Weiss: How did you like our dance? Did you enjoy the storm of fire and ice?

Other interactions:

Hakumen: Do not doubt yourself, nor your resolve.
Weiss: I know. I just need to overcome my old self.
Platinum (Luna): Well, I guess you did okay, in spite of your cup size.
Weiss: Excuse me?!
Naoto: So, you're the famed Ice Queen.
Weiss: Why does everybody call me that?!
Mitsuru: Calm analysis and precision strikes... Just what you'd expect from the Ice Queen.
Weiss: You're not bad yourself, Imperious Queen of Executions... I pity the opponent in the face of your mercilessness.

Blake Belladona

Team BY comes in later as downloadable content. The internet did go into an outrage when ArcSys announced that Blake and Yang would be DLC, together with 18 of the game's roster, but thankfully they are free (while the game and the other DLCs are below normal price) and the outrage died along with that announcement. Blake is popular among the Western players, notably for her mixup potential and high speed, but is left untouched in the East who favor screen coverage (and hence Ruby) more.

Gameplay

In contrast with other RWBY girls, Blake does not use her own Semblance that often. Most of her moveset takes advantage of Gambol Shroud's long scythe range and her own reflexes and speed. Whenever her Semblance is used though, Blake has the option of summoning a Stone Shadow (physical barrier), a normal Shadow (obscures her image in a certain area) and a Fire Shadow (area-of-effect damage if triggered).

Interactions

It may be her voice actress, but Blake strikes me as being disinterested and grumpy all the time. Her introduction sprite sometimes shows her closing a book reluctantly, and she often complains about her partner's fighting style and/or her own difficulties in battle, such as in conversations with Ragna, Gordeau or Hazama.
Blake: (to Ragna) Geez... You're charging in head-on without even thinking.
Blake: (to Gordeau) You're all over the place... I can't even keep track of who the enemy is.
She also expresses her desire to stop fighting to Hyde.
Blake: It's just constant fighting, both here and at home... I just want a little rest.
Notably, Blake often clashes in terms of ideologies with characters who claim to uphold justice such as Orie and Izayoi, possibly because of her own jaded view on what 'justice' is.
Blake: You're not so childish as to confuse power with justice, are you?
Orie: But power is the fastest way to gain control of the situation, and here we have no choice.
Even Blake's big ribbon, which may have helped in hiding her Faunus identity back in the RWBY world, does not help her much here.
Jin: Stay in the shadows like the beast you are.
Merkava: That was somewhat pleasant. Thank you, Faunus.
Makoto: ...a ribbon isn't enough to hide those ears from me!

Other interactions:

Yuzu: We are the blades that hide within sounds and cut through the shadows! Yeah, I totally rocked that!
Blake: Do you have to say that every single time?
Jin: Stay out of my range while I'm fighting, or I might cut you, too.
Blake: Don't worry about me... I'm used to fighting with people who use Iaido.
Blake: I'm not turning my back to [Hazama].
Blake: I'll never judge a book by its cover. Not even you.
Merkava: I swear by the human soul that resides within my body that I shall uphold this vow (Blake will protect Merkava as long as Merkava does not harm others) as long as your words remain true.
Jubei: Heh, kids these days.
Makoto: But I imagine they've put you through hell in your world, too. I know how that feels...

Yang Xiao Long

The last piece of the RWBY crew, Yang enters after Blake instead of entering together. The backlash that made Blake free DLC also made Yang free, naturally.

Gameplay

Technically, Yang relies on Ember Celica and her martial arts skill in most of the fights' duration - that changes when her health enters a certain threshold. Once she is at critical health, she activates her Semblance, making her hair burning hot, giving her attacks additional damage and properties, and changing whatever BGM the fight has to I Burn. The latter aspect often annoys players and simultaneously induces trauma in players who got beaten by Yang players.

Interactions

Yang is cheerful, hot-headed and often expresses delight in the prospect of fights. Most of the cast's other martial-arts-oriented character, such as Chie, Akihiko, Kanji, Azrael and Mika share her burning passion.
Yang: Chumps like this aren't gonna light a fire inside me.
Azrael: Oho... then how about we set that smolder ablaze!
On the other hand, several others such as Noel and Tager do not mesh well with her kind of approach.
Noel: Eh, that seems like a little more than "a little".
Tager: Even a thousand lives wouldn't be enough to save me from your recklessness.

Other interactions:

Waldstein: Gwaahahahaha! Now THIS is a battlefield! An encounter with a powerful foe never fails to excite me.
Yang: Well, I'm glad you're happy, at least. But geez, you could've given me some room to show off a little.
Yang: I didn't know what to a expect at first, but you're pretty good. Especially... that cute Persona!
Yosuke: Heh heh. Cute, huh? ...Hey, enough about Jiraiya, what about me!?
Carmine: Guh... Why am I stuck with someone like you?
Yang: Once this fight's over, I'll take you on too. Now come on, let's go.
In their conversation, Yang even reaches a new level of threatening:
Yang: Once I'm done with you, you'll really want to die. ♪
Yang: Wow, Labrys, the way you fight is so wild!

Closing Words

Whew, that was a long text! It's kinda fun talking a lot about what I see from the RWBY girls in the game. Discussions are welcome, so hit me up with any questions regarding this! And, if you're one of the people who braved him/herself through this wall of text, I express my thanks.
Edit: Grammar fixes, additional quotes and facts, a whole new section
submitted by ChernoRose to RWBY [link] [comments]

TOME: Red Like Rose part I

Theories and Overanalyses with Metas and Exspiro

This analysis of Red Like Roses will focus on the lyrics of the aforementioned song with a focus on their relation to foreshadowing. I would analyze the rest but unfortunately, I am not musically inclined. I will be analyzing and dissecting this as though I would a poem as songs and poems have little differences. Now it is worth noting most of my experience with poetry concerns translating classical Latin poetry.
Before getting to the song I must outline a couple of rules that are important to further conjecture. (Many may know all of these but I would like to ensure that this is accessible to anyone, even those brand new to the community)
  1. (I apologize about how painfully obvious this may be) Characters and teams have color names. https://rwby.fandom.com/wiki/Color_Naming_Rule
  2. Every character in the show references or alludes to another character in something else.
  3. A character may allude to one character but allude to an entirely different one depending on the frame of reference. i.e. Dr. Bartholomew Oobleck alludes to Bartholomew from Dr. Seuss's book Bartholomew and the Oobleck. Meanwhile Professor Peter Port alludes to Peter in the tale Peter and the Wolf. However if one was to ponder what the characters Dr. Oobleck, Professor Port, and their colleague Professor Peach reference one may find that they instead distinctly allude to Luigi, Mario, and Princess Peach respectively from the Mario video game franchise.
Now to get to the song. The lyrics in case you don't have them memorized:
Red like roses fills my dreams and brings me to the place you rest.
White is cold and always yearning burdened by a royal test.
Black the beast descends from shadows.
Yellow beauty burns... Gold.
First, after this point in the post, we will assume the bolded colors reference their corresponding characters in Team RWBY. For a bit of a twist, we will not be doing the lines in order.

Yellow:
Beauty. Burns. Gold. It seems like such a small simple line. Don't let it trick you. I'm going to start by breaking these down.
Starting with the word "beauty" which has a plethora of meanings, synonyms, and symbols. Beauty can be symbolically associated with: innocence, allure, style, red, gold, roses. It could also be much more directly associated with the character "Beauty" from Beauty and the Beast. The symbols of innocence, red, and roses are easily representative of Ruby. While allure and style are more applicable to Yang or her love interest. For the sake of this post, we will be assuming that Blake fits that role.
Onto dissecting "Burns" which has many synonyms: heat, ignite, incinerate. The core thing to note however is the affiliation with fire which has prominent symbolism in itself. Fire can symbolize both the forces of creation and destruction, an eternal flame, birth and resurrection, spiritual enlightenment, sexuality, passion, and martyrdom.
Gold happens to be both a metal and a color both possessing relevant meanings: flexibility, immutability, vitality, light. It also relates directly to greed and the solar system. Light and solar system correlate with Yang's name. Flexibility and immutability are just different words for Yang's stubbornness and adaptability.
An interesting thing of note is that all of these have some symbolisms that are the opposite of their others.
Now for some interpretations of these. Something that struck me is that both beauty and gold have reflexive symbolism. They can refer to each other and they could also refer to Yang. Yang burns... Yang. Sounds a bit silly but bear with me. In Latin poetry for example, sometimes a poet will create an image with the words he uses. For example, if something takes place in a dark cave, he will put dark at the very start of the sentence and cave at the far end; this creates the effect that the entire sentence is occurring inside of the dark cave. Yang burns inside of Yang, perhaps. Hmmm, A burning (passion) occurs within Yang. I think this interpretation does lend to Yang's thrill-seeking. These are also brought to mind:
"The flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long." -Lao Tzu, Te Tao Ching
"Burn the candle at both ends" -English Idiom
Another interpretation could be that Ruby burns... Yang being separate, unable to stop it. From Yang's perspective, Ruby is innocent and she feels responsible for her protection. This bears a direct relation to both Yang's view on family and her "Momma Bear" trait.

Black:
Now we have a beast descending from shadows. More direct and a little less poetic than the last one.
Beast is a very loaded word in the context of RWBY. First time I heard it I thought: Grimm. We also have Faunus, which could have beast being used as a reference/derogatory term. Then we have The Beast, as in Beauty and The Beast. Beast can also refer to a more primal evil or demon, but that is kind of covered by Grimm.
Next, for Blake we have shadows and she just happens to have shadow clones. Shadows could refer to Blake's semblance or literal darkness. It may also mean that the occurrence is merely unexpected. There are also many symbolisms related to evil, however, I am going to say that these are less relevant as Blake is a protagonist who utilizes the shadows.
For descends it is important only to know its definitions: Move down spatially. Originate or come from. Swoop or Pounce. To lower or worsen status.
Now several interpretations include Adam as the Beast fittingly. Adam descends in status after Blake( the shadows). This is an event that has occurred throughout all 6 volumes of the show. It is particularly well illustrated by the Adam short for Volume 6.
Grimm unexpectedly attacking could be a good illustration of Blake's trials. This is not necessarily illustrating the actual trials, but rather Blake's perception of them. She did grow up with a wealthy loving family and yet she has always viewed herself as having to struggle against the odds to survive. It also illustrates actual situations where they have to unexpectedly face Grimm, such as the fall of Beacon.
The Faunus society leaves the shadows. Blake has always striven to progress the Faunus situation. We see this when she first tells Sun of her past in Volume 1. We see some enormous progress towards her goals when she brings the people of Menagerie to stop Adam's White Fang in Volume 5. At Haven, we also see the people of Menagerie literally coming out of shadows to join society. Blake even takes the first step out of the shadows for the Faunus people when she removes her bow in Volume 4.
Then we have Adam pouncing on Blake to destroy her when we least expect it. The 2 most important and memorable times are at the fall of Beacon and at Argus. Just when we think things couldn't get any worse, Adam shows up almost as if he was drawn to the situation the same way as the beasts known as Grimm are. He latches onto Blake like a predator would pounce on its prey, and refuses to let anything come between them and destruction.

Bumblebee: (Theory)
What? You didn't read the Bumblebee line? Well here it is:
Black the Beast descends from shadows.
Yellow Beauty burns... Gold.
Beauty and the Beast anyone? Just to reiterate Blake is Beauty. Who is the Beast? Well, it's Adam of course, but it's also Yang, sometimes. (Rule 3) I stated that a character can represent a different character in a different frame of reference. Alone she is Goldilocks; with Belle, she is the Beast.
Both Beasts pounce unexpectedly. The Old Beast Adam shows up at the fall of Beacon to unexpectedly cause hardship. Shortly afterward out of the shadows comes the New Beast Yang to save Blake. Later at Argus, the same events occur with a different outcome. Furthering this we found out that both Beasts have extraordinarily similar semblances. Both creating energy from pain only Adam refuses to feel and grow from his pain.
Blake burns away... while Yang tries to provide safety. I am reminded of the scene in Volume 2 where Yang convinces Blake to stop burning herself out.

White:
"Cold and always yearning" merely describes Weiss's personality. The large thing to note is the "always" meaning that she will likely stay cold and yearning at least on a basic level of her personality, even if she has warmed some.
Now we wonder why exactly the Royal Test burdens Weiss, but that is not the real question here: What is the Royal Test? We don't know. We can theorize though. The first place to start is: To what might the Royal Test allude? First off I'm making a distinction between royalty and nobility, the former being the royal family and the latter being the aristocracy. Now what sort of tests have rulers had to pass? I'm not going to name all of them because I can't if someone thinks of an important one that I missed then tell me. However, every individual test is not what is important rather what is being tested and how.
A famous and beloved story of a ruler being tested is that of King Arthur pulling the sword from the stone. This test has the ruler proving his worthiness to rule before God through a magical test. This seems unlikely to be in RWBY for many reasons starting with the Gods having literally left Remnant and ending with the fact that hunters and huntresses generally create their own unique non-magical weapons.
There is also the legend of the Gordian Knot. Alexander the Great undoes an impossible knot by cleverly cheating. A ruler could overcome an impossible test with their cleverness by cheating or by changing the rules of said task. Although Weiss is clever this doesn't seem to be her style to me.
The Praetorian, guards of the Roman emperor, did install several emperors themselves. This would be an example of ruling via conspiracy. This is much more like Ozpin's or Jacques's methods than Weiss's.
Other tests may include wars, divine right, election, and selection by the aristocracy.
The Magna Carta is my favorite royal test for this situation. The Feudal Lords of England got together and drew up a contract of sorts for the king to agree to. By agreeing to the Magna Carta he agreed to stop trampling over the rights of his subjects. This seems to me to be very much the sort of test that we may see Weiss put through especially given the state of the SDC. On top of that the rights of the downtrodden do seem to be something of a burden to Weiss.
If I have missed or forgotten a detail about our information on the Royal Test please inform me.

Red:
Red like roses, has two interpretations that I have thought of. An easy interpretation is that it is a simile comparing an object to being the color. The imagery evokes the color of blood supported further by the word 'fills'. As this 'red' fills dreams so does our blood fill our bodies. Another interpretation is that Ruby is like Roses. As in Ruby being akin to her ancestors on her mother's side. Ruby got her silver eyes from her mother who got them from her ancestors. Silver eyes are essentially the mark of a warrior or hunter if not a hero. By this, we gather that the Rose family has been a family of warriors for as long as they have had silver eyes. This may be saying that Ruby is like her heroic heritage.
Dreams for the most part likely refer to either Ruby's unconscious or Ruby's aspirations.
The place you rest is in my eyes referencing death. As the show has gone on more options for whom 'you' references have surfaced, unfortunately. Ruby may be being brought to the place her mother rests; this is supported by our view of her grave just before we are shown Salem for the first time. Ruby may also be headed for where Penny and/or Pyrrha rests. She may also be going to the place where her heroic ancestors rest. 'You' may also be much more broad stroke referring to all those who now rest in the grave.
How about another version of rests? Evil never dies it merely rests. If one slices through a Grimm it is gone, but there will always be more. Salem orchestrates schemes behind the scenes even when she can rest for centuries without dying. Ozpin is perceived by many on a scale anywhere from misguided to more evil than Salem. Ozma similarly never dies. The Grimm Brothers are also perceived by some as evil and are resting on another world/plane/universe.
I have thought of the 4 following interpretations of the presented facts:
Ruby unconsciously seeks vengeance against those who have caused death.
Ruby endeavors to be a hero for those she has lost.
Ruby is growing into the legacy of her ancestors.
As a hero, Ruby acts to stop even the undying evil of old.
There is one problem with the first two possibly even three, however, and it is illustrated with the following quote. "...but we have to try. If not for us than for the people we have already... than for the people we haven't lost yet." (That comes from Volume 4 Episode 12 in Ruby's letter to Yang).

Weapons:
Weapons are very core to everything RWBY. Fittingly each of these lines mentions the characters' primary weapon. Ruby has her rose or Crescent Rose mentioned. Blake has shadows mentioned which both her Gambol Shroud and shadow clones are. Yang's Ember Celica are mentioned by the word burns. Yang is also seen to temper her rage in combat similarly to how a blacksmith may temper metal like Gold. Weiss's is a little harder to see, but her Glyphs are mentioned by the word burdened. After all, Weiss does use her Glyphs to bear people's burdens, oftentimes lifting them aloft through platforms or summons. Her semblance is also a burden to her in that it connects her with the Schnee name which for many has become far too loaded with extra meaning.

Theory:
Supposing these lyrics are still important and impactful, I believe that this song is a good illustration of how the title characters' journey and growth has and will progress. Finding the right interpretations could in this case even let us predict some of the coming events. We may be able to foresee future character growth or predict the direction it will take.
I would like to in general provide more than one theory because of the very nature of theories and because I usually have quite a few, but in this case, it is less about the theories and more about the interpretations provided.


Now here is what I ask of you. Tell us your thoughts, theories, insights, and wild ideas. The point of this post was not for me to just tell the readers a bunch of thoughts but to spark discussion on it. That being said I would also appreciate critique of the format, flow, and general idea here. We do plan on posting more of these (hopefully with more consistent formatting).
In case anyone missed it, this is part of a collaborative project between myself, Exspiro_V_Cremantam , and Metas_M_Petivero .
If you have read all of this I would like to wish you a great day even if you do not have any feedback. 😁
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gambolled easy definition video

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