[[ Bring anyone from anywhere this is just a fun distraction thread.  No plot, no real story unless something happens. And something might but nothing here affects the story ]]

The world was in chaos.  Earthquakes, secrets revealed, Atharim hunting him.  The world was always in chaos, this day was no different.  Nox needed a break.  To leave the pain and suffering behind.  A good drink, a lot of people, and a dance floor throbbing with loud music.  Memories be damned.

The rave was in a nice part of Moscow.  Hidden from view but within one of the richer neighborhoods.  The lights were dim, the music was loud and the people were drunk and having a good time.  The entry fee was minimal but it was more than Nox normally liked to pay for a good time.  The walk down the narrow hall grew darker with each step and the music pulsed in his veins.  And the world fell away from him.

The bar was off to the side and barely visible as Nox approached.  People crowded around the thing with their hands out waving down the bartenders.  Men and women wearing next to nothing walked around the outside of what had become the dance floor of the old building.  Nox didn't know what it had been in the day time, but it didn't matter now - now the lights strobed and the music played.  First a drink.

Nox waded up to the bar and took a seat a cute guy had vacated with a pretty girl on his arm heading for the dance floor.  Dancing later Nox thought to himself while he waited for the bartender to reach him so.

It was into a steady sleep that he drifted. Soon, he found himself walking the planks of empty docks flanking a river. He didn’t recognize his location, but the general cityscape may have been anywhere. He thrust his hands in the pockets of a white tracksuit and paused to look over the edge. That was when he saw two boys nearby balancing dangerously along the dock wall. He decided to walk their direction out of concern for their safety. However, suddenly a surge of water lifted the river out of its banks. The boys and Philip were caught in the flood. He tried to get to them, but they disappeared beneath the churning surface. The river roared angrily and carried him away.

The city scape rolled into nature as he was hurled toward a precipice beyond which fell a huge waterfall. He gasped for air and flung himself as best he could, but he wasn’t a strong swimmer. He grabbed at the bier of a bridge as the wall of water tried to pull him over the edge. Then as suddenly as the surge arose, it fell back to normal. He made it to the riverbank, and scrambled up to solid ground. The forest surrounding the bank was limp with the flood. Grasses were folded flat. Branches and debris cluttered along the trees. Some were upended, their roots exposed in gnarled twists.

Breathing heavy, Philip pulled himself out of the flood zone, seeking shelter and expecting to wake any moment.

The room was trashed. Tony was going to be pissed. In the middle of the chaos of thrown furniture, smashed glasses, and shredded curtains stood a shard of black. Elias flexed his fists to balls, breath heavy, eyes scrunched to sightlessness.
“ARGWW!” He roared and literally kicked a throw pillow left on the floor. It smashed to the wall in a fluff, adding to the mess.

“This is a waste of time!” he yelled at nothing. The excursions down the river were absolutely worthless. They found no signal. The creature no longer attacked. He was made to be a fool in front of everyone. Including…

“Asha?” He turned at the rustle of someone entering. Probably climbing over the mess. Maybe it was Tony coming to yell at him? Nah, that guy was sure to keel over from a heart attack next time he raised his voice.

Hey guys.

I'm at work as normal but I will probably be in chat most evenings. I know you're all a world away and I can't offer any practical help (we don't have any toilet rolls in the shops here either anyway) but at an appropriate social distance allow me to get a little soppy (sorry not sorry). I figure some of us will be writing more and some less over the coming months, and although we are a writing community I've "known" some of you practically my entire adult life. I hope you all have wonderful support networks in your non-screen lives, however if you're worried and need to vent, or if you want distracting and to talk about anything other than the shit storm that is 2020, then I'm here. I'm making a concerted effort to actually keep my phone with me so that I am contactable for friends and family in isolation (those in at-risk categories here have been told to self-isolate for 3 months) so, timezone differences aside, I am around most of the time outside of chat. PM/facebook/email/whatever. If you don't have non-FA details and want them just ask.

The Holy Father was eating a midday meal when he was suddenly interrupted by the hurried footsteps of Archbishop Jean-Guy Cheney. The Archbishop served as foreign minister in the Secretariat of State, and one of a limited few with frequent access to the Pope. The former Frenchman was portly around the waist, balding, and had a mole on his upper lip that should probably be removed by a dermatologist.

“Holy Father,” he entered exasperated. Philip vaguely attributed his breathlessness to aging addiction to cigarettes. It wasn’t until the Archbishop placed a screen alongside his plate that his attention was fully diverted.

The headline played out in bold red letters: 
EARTHQUAKE DEVASTATES SOUTHERN PACIFIC: DEATH TOLL UNKNOWN

He looked up, eyes wide. Anger at the intrusion dissipated instantly. The Archbishop was sweating, a hand gripping the cross on his chest. He said nothing.

Within moments, Philip abandoned the Archbishop to the solitude of the table. His apartments were completely devoid of electronics, which meant he relocated to the Secretariat of State’s offices, which occupied the same level of the Vatican palace.

The screens were already attuned to the news. He barely entered the room when it seemed the spirit parted the way forward through avid watchers. The Cardinal Secretary of State alone approached his shadow. Philip absorbed it all without speaking. The Cardinal filled the silence, meanwhile.
“They say it is the worst mega-quake since 2020,” he said reverently.

Patricus’ lips formed a thin line.

When my photoshop is available to me again, I'll make this look nicer. In the meantime, the expansion of the CCD continued in short succession. 






   

Indonesia issued a tsunami warning within minutes of a sudden 10.1 magnitude earthquake. This comes on a frightening pattern similar to the 10+ scale earthquakes experienced in the 2020’s. Prior to the 20’s, scientists predicted these supra-scale quakes to occur at least every 10,000 years. It is quite disturbing that another has broken so soon after the previous devastating events.

The warnings were issued in Indonesia, the Phillippines, Timor, and Australia’s northernmost territory. Tsunami watches were automatically extended as far as Jakarta, Sumatra, and Singapore. The Pacific Rim nations are expected to experience devastating tsunami for several days. The death toll is estimated to be more than a million due to instant damage, and untold scores in addition over the coming weeks due to illness, starvation, and other secondary effects unless immediate intervention is taken.

Ascendancy Brandon was in Tokyo when the news broke. He has yet to make a public announcement beyond a generic decree of sorrow and best wishes for Custody’s Pacific neighbors. The most likely source of aid would be from the United States and Australia proper, but the USA is disrupted by the recent announcement of Texan succession. Chinese leaders have offered vague, noncommittal statements similar to the Custody.

Sequence of events as they take place in the fragmentation of the USA.

1. USA diplomatic delegation arrives in Moscow. The junior member on the delegation was US Representative Evelyn Avalon, a pro-CCD Democrat ally. 

2. Upon return to the USA, Representative Avalon changes her stance from pro-CCD Democrat to pro-Annexation Democrat.

3. Representative Avalon co-sponsors a Bill to resubmit annexation before the House. While the subcommittee debates the inclusion, an announcement is made that interrupts their vote.

4. Texas Governor announces the intention of legal cessation of Texas from the USA.

5. The nations of South America petition to join the CCD. They will become Dominance VIII.

Armande felt the support from Valeriya and Rowan. But it was time to peel back the veil. He remembered the first time his Beloved had seen for him. The experience had left him feeling drained, empty, after having sensed the divine that had been there. Since then, it was always similar. That is, until Rowan had joined them. Suddenly it had changed again. He could see, could actually feel as they intoned. The fire singeing his skin, broiling his flesh, trapped in that cage, that experience still lingered.

The fact that Rowan's brother had found them was the final nail. Evasion would only work for so long. Sometimes a moving blindspot became visible for being invisible. All it would take was an enterprising AI being given parameters to seek out absence rather than presense. A moving blur would stand out, then.

No. They had to go. He bid them to sit with him and he leaned forward to look at the skin. The map was crude, but the features were clear enough even without a legend. Heavily dotted with forests, two conjoining rivers, a ridgeway, and a crater or hole of some sort. He looked at both of them. "What Rasputin kept safe, he did for the future. The Khylsty themselves." He gently touched Valeriya's cheek. "The Eye herself, my queen." Then his hand touched the soft cured skin. "And this map. Since ascending, I did some searching. He was from the east, coming from seemingly nowhere to plant himself at the very center of Russian power. But obviously, he did not come from nowhere. And the Khylsty did not spring up over night."

He looked to his partner, studied her for a moment. Her eyes were deep and held things long hidden. "Is there anything you can share, my love?"

@"Valeriya"
@"Rowan Finnegan"

Their trek through the wilderness had yielded many pictures some of which Sierra would have to pull from the card before delivering it to the National Geographic.  She might be called a hack photographer for such images - but they weren't faked or modified, and any true photographer would see that, but newbs wouldn't.

The stayed in a small village on the edge of the wilderness they'd come from. Sierra needed the electricity to power the laptop and send her final photos on.  She sat staring at the flowers and the tree man they'd seen, no one would believe it - she wasn't sure she was.  Sierra wasn't exactly sure if she really believed she'd met Tristan either. Except he was real even for all his talk about fairies and trolls. She wasn't sure about any of it, but she could talk to wolves and men could do magic and there was a walking tree - what were fairies and trolls in comparison.

But what was next?  Follow Tristan wherever he wanted to go?  That felt right, pack felt right.  But there was pack back in Moscow - except the city was full of concrete and pollution and the wolves avoided the city - except the pups they pulled into that world.  Never happily played with the pup of Tristan's.  Never didn't understand why she couldn't speak like him, but it was a friendship he was happy to have.  She was glad to have met Tristan.  

The strange flower sat next to her laptop still warm, still in bloom even after having been plucked days ago.  It was a strange thing, but she felt attached to it as much so as she did to Tristan himself.  Their night in the dream had yet to happen in the real world. Though maybe that was a good thing.  He felt like coming home and Sierra wanted to stay there - with him - home - pack.  It was hard to explain.  

She said out loud to nobody in particular "Photos are sent. Now what?"