Adventures In Egypt

This post is a sort of follow-up to last week’s announcement about Curious Critters’ Coadventure. This is an example story I wrote to illustrate what one of our stories might look like. Enjoy.

    “Where are we off to now, Faith?” Luis asked, his big blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

    “Well, I’d like to go to Southern Egypt, if you don’t mind,” she replied. “My friend Joel – he’s a gopher – is working on an archeology dig there, and I can only imagine what incredible discoveries could be under the sand!”

    “It sounds wonderful!” he agreed amiably. “But… will Egypt be too dry for you? You are a sea lion, after all.”

    “Oh, yes, that might be a bit of a problem, you’re quite right, but think of the adventure! The amazing things we might learn!”

    “If you’re alright with it, I am. I’ll go get our stuff!” He hurried off on his short hedgehog legs, full of enthusiasm.

    They arrived in Luxor, Egypt, a day later, and Luis cheerfully bounced through Immigration and Customs, dragging along a bored Faith on a scooter board. “Come on, Faith, you love to travel!”

    “Yes, of course I do, there’s so much to learn in new places,” she sighed impatiently, “But I don’t like the travel itself! Long lines and cramped flights… and heaven knows those airplane seats aren’t designed for anyone who isn’t bipedal, or at best quadrupedal.”

    “Well, I don’t suppose many of their passengers are aquatic, seeing as there’s a shortage of water on the planes.” He paused to thank the security agent before continuing. “They do have boats that tend to suit better. Oh, wouldn’t that have been lovely? A cruise across the Atlantic!”

    “Yes, yes, I know that they have boats, but those take so much more time! Why would I take eight or nine days to get somewhere exciting when I could only take one?”

    “Well, I suppose that depends on whether you care about how you get somewhere as much as being there. It’s a philosophical difference, really. See, I find the journey to be fun and interesting, so I don’t mind if it takes so long.”

    “You find everything fun and interesting,” she pointed out. She gestured exasperatedly at their surroundings. “You’re probably finding this fun, too!”

    He looked taken aback, nearly indignant – nearly – as he replied. “Of course I am! What’s not to like? There are so many interesting people! Did you look at that security agent, Faith? He was blue! Can you honestly tell me you’ve ever seen a blue cat before?”

    “No, but that’s not the point! This is airport security, Luis! It’s not supposed to be fun!” She had been about to carry on with a number of things that were fun, like archeology digs, biology hikes, museums and the like, but she was cut off by a snort from behind her.

    The snort had come from a white rabbit, about Luis’s height, hauling a black suitcase. She was shaking her head at either the absurdity or the obviousness of the statement, or perhaps a combination of the two. When she realized that the others were watching her, she smiled wryly. “‘M sorry, I just didn’t think that was something that needed to be said.”

    There was a bit of a challenge in the statement, and undertone of ‘I dare you to disagree with me,’ but if Luis noticed, he ignored it altogether. “It’s a point of contention with us. Well, not this specifically, usually, but the general idea of- I’m rambling, aren’t I?” She watched in amusement as his smile turned sheepish. “Sorry about that. I’m aware I have the unpopular opinion on the matter, but I hold to it.”

    “He can’t help it,” Faith commented, “He finds the best in everything.”

    “I’m getting that impression.”

    “Speaking of wonderful things, your accent is lovely. May I ask where you’re from?” Luis asked earnestly.

    “Edinburgh, Scotland.”

    “Ooh,” he hummed appreciatively, “I haven’t been to Scotland in ages. Have you been, Faith?”

    “No, not yet. It’s on my list, though. Plenty of things about Celtic culture to learn.” She paused, then barked once in laughter. “Which is an excellent example of more entertaining things to do than going through Immigration and Customs.”

    “Yes, it probably is, but just because that’s more interesting doesn’t mean that this can’t be!” He turned to the rabbit. “I’m sorry, we haven’t introduced ourselves yet. I’m Luis, and this is Faith.”

    He stuck out a mittened paw to shake, and she took it. “Mame. You’ve come from somewhere cold, I take it?” He wasn’t just wearing mittens, but also boots, a scarf, and earmuffs. He looked like he might be on a trip to Greenland instead of Egypt.

    “Er, yes, we just flew in from Wisconsin. But the clothes aren’t really for location. I’m just always cold. I’d probably be hibernating if we had stayed back home — it’s rather cold this week — but Faith asked if we could go to Egypt, and it’s not quite so bad here.”

    “Tourists?”

    “Yep!” Luis said, and Faith was quick to clarify.

    “My friend is running an archeology dig, and he thought we might like to have a look.” Mame looked at her for a moment, then laughed. “What is it?”

    “‘An archeology dig.’ Small world, in’it?” the Scot mused, steering them towards the exit. “We’re here for the same dig. I suppose I should have realized you were the gopher’s sea lion when I saw you, seeing as not many pinnipeds would be flying, and to Egypt of all dry places to go. You must be as curious as he–”–she jerked her head at Luis–“is cheerful, to be here.”

    “That sounds about right,” the hedgehog in question replied with a smile. “She’s a real explorer, Faith.”

    “You two got a ride?” Mame asked as they stepped outside.

    “We were just going to hail a cab.”

    “Ah, no, that won’t do. It’s nearly a two hour drive and the dig’s in the middle of nowhere. Best you ride with me, then. I rented a car. C’mon.”

    Faith certainly learned something on that trip– never let the rabbit drive.

    Cars and seat belts are a few more things that were never properly adapted for species without legs, and that was a more significant oversight than something like airplanes, which most self-respecting marine creatures avoided anyhow. Normally, the challenge of buckling into a car seat was manageable for Faith; she just buckled in sideways. Normally, the car was not going at Autobahn speeds with a driver too short to see over the steering wheel, and Faith found herself glad that Mame was ignoring the standardly sensible phones-while-driving bans as well as the speed limit. And for the fact that there were no other cars on the road. Had there been either other tourists or no cell connection for the digital mapping system, they probably would have crashed.

    Faith was relieved –and more than a bit surprised– to find them all in one piece on arrival. It hadn’t been a silent trip, but seeing as Mame was mostly laughing excitedly and barely making turns, she wasn’t really available for conversation. Luis had been pointing out nice things about where they were, mostly different observations about the sand, but Faith had been too busy muttering prayers in both English and Spanish to respond.

    Apparently, “two hour drive” was only for sensible drivers, because they got there in less than half of one. Faith was pretty sure that she’d have preferred the long trip, though she chose not to vocalize the thought.  Luis undid his own seat belt in the front passenger seat, thanked Mame for the ride in his annoyingly cheerful demeanor, and then moved to the back to help Faith unlatch hers.

“Well, we made good time. Are you excited to see the dig?”

“Are you crazy?” she asked, slapping her tail on the seat in distress. “I like the speed of airplanes. I also like not feeling the speed of the airplane! How can you be so calm about this?”

He shrugged. “The breeze was nice.” Oh, yes, that was another terrifying feature of their ride: the windows were fully open the whole time. All of them. Faith thanked God there wasn’t a sunroof, or that probably would have been open too.

Still, she was excited to be at the dig site, and she slid out of the car onto her scooter board without further complaint. “Dig’s right over there,” Mame said, pointing towards a taped off area, much of it lower than the surrounding ground. There was some inactive construction equipment, but there was something missing…

“Where is everyone?” Faith asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe they’re under.”

“That’d be good, wouldn’t it? That means they found something, right? You won’t have to wait while they dig, Faith!”

They moved around to the other side, just outside the taped square. Sure enough, there were stairs in a stone tunnel, like a rocky mouth to swallow any who stepped on it. “That’s not good,” Mame muttered.

“Why not?” Luis asked curiously. “They found something.”

“Yes, but why is there nobody up here? They wouldn’t all go into the crypt, would they?”

The others paused. That was a good point, and an unease settled about them. “Will we?” Faith asked quietly.

“I’ll go,” Luis piped up confidently. “I’m sure they’ve just found something dreadfully exciting, and they wanted to show the others.”

Faith sighed. Bless his heart, curse his head. “I’ll go too. I wanted to see an archeology dig, and I’ll be seeing archeology.”

“Well, there’s no way I’m letting the two of you down there alone. Impatient Curiosity and Stubborn Positivity? Recipe for disaster. Follow me, and don’t wander off, yeah?”

They each nodded and started down the stairs after her. If you’ve ever seen a scooter board (or other wheeled equivalent) going down stairs, you can imagine the difficulty of safely delivering Faith to the bottom of the steps, but they managed. It was loud enough that Luis was sure someone from the expedition would have heard and come to greet them, but there was no one waiting when the finished their descent.

The lighting in the crypt was ominously lacking, with the only light coming in from the entrance. The air smelled faintly of asphalt, but it was hard to tell. Save for the slight draft from where they’d come in, the air was stale.

They followed the narrow corridor until they came to an intersection. It was four ways, counting retreat. Their path continued into the darkness. There was a branch running further right than they could see as it dimmed with distance, and a left that sharply turned right only a couple feet in. A quiet, rhythmic scratching noise echoed through the halls, but it was impossible to tell where from.

“Which way should we go?” Luis asked, and even he was starting to sound a bit nervous.

Mame indicated the path they were on with her head. “The way we can see, probably. Left’s right out, there’ll be no light there, so it’s either right or forwards. I vote forwards.”

Luis nodded and followed her as she started moving in that direction, but Faith glanced towards the left curiously. “Why would they put in such a sharp turn?” she wondered aloud, “Do these paths run parallel?”

Being both behind by the nature of her transportation, and the only one facing that corridor, she was the first to see it as it rounded the corner. A snarling muzzle coming into view at incredible speeds, followed by the rest of the hyena. Or, at least, what looked like it may have at one point been a hyena. She barked in alarm as it slammed into the wall, using that as momentum to turn towards her. She took in its appearance in the flash instant. Was it a hyena?

It was probably either that or canine, at the very least, but it was hard to tell. The skeletal creature had sticky, matted fur where Faith could see it. The smell of asphalt — bitumen, Faith realized, what the Ancient Egyptians used to embalm mummies — grew sharper, coming from the creature. It had wraps, too, but not well done, more like it had gotten itself tangled in them.

As it leapt towards her, the others turned to see it. “Faith!” Luis cried out, yanking the scooter board towards and past him, and his friend along with it.

She just barely cleared the ferocious pounce, the thing sailing past its mark and hitting the floor with a thud. “We can’t outrun it,” they heard Mame assess, but they weren’t paying so much attention to her words as they were to the horrible, scratching scramble of claws on stone as it returned to its feet and the feral noise that none of them could even begin to characterize.

Back on the hunt, it pounced again, the only warning of its chosen target the trajectory of its jump. Luis, either in a stroke of genius or an act of terror, tore the earmuffs from his head and held them out in front of him, ducking at the same time. The dog’s mouth went just over his head, its mouth catching on the band of the earmuffs and preventing it from immediately dipping its head and biting him.

Mame, who was now standing right next to it, stepped forward and slapped it with her long ears, the sound of contact loud and clear as it echoed through the chambers. With a growl, the animal turned to face her, but it couldn’t attack, still held in place by the makeshift bridle, its reins in the charge of the frightened hedgehog beneath it, holding on like his life depended on it. Which, in all fairness, it may have.

Determining that it couldn’t easily get to the rabbit, it turned to the seemingly defenseless sea lion, but that proved to be an even worse idea. In his haste to protect himself, Luis had dropped the rope for the scooter board, and Faith was left facing mostly away from the fight. Between the thing’s newfound inability to bite and its lack of time to raise a clawed paw, it failed to protect itself from the tail slap to the face, or the ear thwap to its back.

When the thwaps proved unrelenting, and the creature was only getting itself more tangled trying to spin around to face both adversaries, it howled and bolted back the way it came from, moving fast enough to rip the earmuffs out of Luis’ paws.

They all stood in silence for a moment, staring after it, before Mame shook her head. “‘Found something dreadfully exciting,’ indeed.” She sighed. “Come on, let’s get out of here and call the police.”

“You’ll stay in touch?” Luis asked hopefully as he hugged Mame goodbye. They were back at the airport, preparing for their separate departures. They all seemed to have silently agreed to effectively pretend that the dig site had never happened, but he hoped that they’d still be friends.

“Of course,” she replied with a chuckle, “Someone’s got to keep an eye on you. Impatient Curiosity and Stubborn Positivity? Recipe for disaster.”

Luis grinned in response, but it faltered after a moment. “That was…” he remembered when she had last said that.

“As far as I’m concerned, we discussed going into the crypt and then had the fair sense not to. I retain full rights to use that quote.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Good idea.”

Faith nodded in agreement. “And we’ll try to visit sometime soon. Scotland…” she smiled dreamily, thinking of all the wonderful things she’d get to learn.

“Right, right, daydream of adventures after you’ve got everything checked in and through security and all that,” Mame said gruffly, pushing them towards their airline’s counter so they could check in. But, for what it was worth, she was going to miss them, and she couldn’t wait for them to come visit.

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Curious Critters’ Coadventure

Yes, I realize this is a day late for Small Business Saturday, but I post on Sundays. Anyhow, now that registration is up, I get to inform you of the website my mom and I have created: Curious Critters’ Coadventure!

It’s a whole lot of things plush related. First and foremost, we’re a travel agency for plush, which basically means that you can ship us your stuffed animals and we’ll take them fun places in the Midwest. The group’s adventures (yes, group — that’s the “Coadventure” part of it) will be posted to our Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, and at the end of the trip a more personalized version will be sent to each furry friend’s home, in either digital or print photo book format.

We also do stories, where we work off a write-up of the critters’ personalities to spin a story with them as the main characters, and graphic adventures, where we write a story and then stage the plush in photo positions for it.

Basically, I love stuffed animals and now I get to work with them! I love my job. Even if you don’t purchase a package with us, take a look at our social media and consider following our local adventures!

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An Unexpected Journey

Nope, not the Hobbit book. In this case, I’m actually referring to the book that I wrote titled An Unexpected Journey a few years back. I recently realized that I haven’t bothered to talk about it, despite this being an ideal place to do so, so here we are. So… it’s a kids book about an alligator named Cilantro who accidentally ends up going on a quest when he really just means to find a new place to live. Yeah.

You can find out the rest by reading it! It’s really short, 46 pages and it’ll be shorter once I’m done editing out the unnecessary extra line spacing, but, well, it was my first book and I may have made some mistakes. That’s part of the point of this post: to advertise the fact that I am finally going back and fixing spacing, punctuation, I think one or two typos… all the stuff that makes me cringe when I open it up and go, “There should be a comma before that dialogue!” Which means that first edition will be, fingers crossed, going out of print very soon. If you’d like a copy, pick it up before second edition is released! (This may also be a good time to plug the fact that the second book is in the later stages of editing, so you have that to look forward to, too.)

While I’m working on that, I’ll leave you with a snippet of one of the fight scenes. Enjoy!

“What was that?!” Rebecca whispered, “A monster?”
“Shhh! I’m trying to listen!” Allan warned, “I think it’s goblins. Everyone, stand in a circle, back to back.” 
Cilantro noticed a couple of sharp, pointy sticks. “Rebecca!” he whispered, “I’ll grab a stick. Use your horn as a spear.”
“What?! Are you kidding?!” she yelped, “I spend hours polishing and cleaning my horn until it sparkles like freshly fallen snow! I’ll take a stick too, thank you very much!”
Allan looked at them. “Do you guys even know how to fight?” 
Rebecca looked at him, giggled, and said, “Of course! Beat up the bad guy, and don’t get beat up!” 
Suddenly, a goblin pack started dropping from the trees. “Augh!!” Rebecca screamed, while instinctively poking at one with her “spear.” 
Meanwhile, Allan had drawn a sword and was busy slicing goblins with, may I add, great skill. Just then, they heard a shout from Cilantro, signaling that he had been captured. Allan took one look toward Cilantro, chopped off a goblin’s head, and charged toward the goblin holding Cilantro. 
As Allan’s sword made contact with the goblin’s torso, he heard another scream from behind him. As Allan and Cilantro stared, they realized it was the goblin’s scream, not Rebecca’s. “How dare you mess up my hoof polish!” she scolded the goblin, “It took an hour to put on!” That made them laugh hysterically. 

Do give it a bit of slack, I’m not adjusting the actual story or the writing style and I was nine when I wrote it, so there’ll be cliches and tropes and so-so sentences that are probably unnecessary, but I’m trying to stay true to my beginnings.

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Forgotten History

Occasionally, I go poking through old papers of mine to reminisce, and, just possibly, find something worth sharing. This one is an excellent example: a summary of the Peshtigo Fire that I wrote in fourth grade. Since I don’t think I say it in the report, it should be noted that Peshtigo is a town in Wisconsin. As I explain in the paper, the Peshtigo Fire has been largely forgotten — in fact, up until digging this up, I had forgotten about it, too! Historically, it’s lack of coverage is because it happened in a similar timeframe to the Great Chicago Fire, which was smaller, but in a more known area. Why I forgot about it, I have no idea. As for the rest of the information, I’ll leave that to my nine-year old self.

The Peshtigo Fire was caused by drought and harsh winds. The winds caught onto the fires the lumberjacks set to burn fallen branches. Due to the wind and the many little fires, a firestorm broke out. Firestorms are rare fires that form their own explosive gases. Also, due to the trees in the area, the fire had many flammables to fuel itself with. When the fire stopped, the forest near Peshtigo was a sea of scorched wood and ashes more than twice the size of Rhode Island. Unfortunately, this fire has been nearly forgotten, replaced by the significantly smaller Great Chicago Fire. On the same day the same winds stirred fires at both Port Huron at the tip of Lake Huron, and the cities of Holland and Manistee across Lake Michigan. It is a shame that only the Great Chicago Fire is remembered of all the significant fires that day.

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Narwhales!

One of the many games that I play online is called Narwhale. Aww! Sounds nice, kind of sweet, right? Haha, nope. Narwhale is a very simple game where you’re all — surprise! — narwhales, and you’re trying to kill each other by impalement, courtesy of tusks. A good example is this image, where I’m less than 1.5 seconds away from getting skewered by someone who’s about to make a sharp turn into my side.

“Why would you want to kill the other narwhales, though?” Well, that’s a good question. For starters, they’re all trying to kill you. You also get bonuses for each level you get (you advance the number of levels that each narwhale you kill has), like stamina (the little dots by your tusk, those are how many dashes you have left at a given time), stamina regeneration, dash speed, general speed, tusk length, turn rate… that sort of thing. You can see each upgrade for a moment as you get it, and then the words fade so that you can actually, you know, see what you’re doing.

Of course, bonuses that make it easier to kill shouldn’t really be the only reward to killing, should they? Of course not! It’s mostly for the rush of exhilaration when you get out of a tight spot, or see your username on the Leaderboard in the top right corner (if you don’t put one in, you’ll come up as “Lazy Narwhale”) or, if you do really well, get a crown for being the top player. Your tusk also turns into a kebab if you hit max tusk length, so that’s fun. Unfortunately, I don’t have any screenshots of my crown/kebab combo, since I was a bit busy trying not to die, but I do have one with just a crown.

It should also be noted that digital narwhales seem to be contortionists, and it’s sometimes difficult to tell whether they’re missing the back half of their body, therefore dying and no longer a threat, or whether they’re scrunched up, like the little greige-ish dude near the bottom of that last picture. Unfortunately, that’s an unavoidable result of high speed turning, so just know that it’s something to watch out for.

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Write It Down!

Well, it’s NaNo season again, and as such I’m going to give you all some unsolicited writing advice. I don’t know about all of you, but I have horrible impulse control, and a lot of fun story ideas. For a long time, the result of this was droves upon droves of partially started books. “Ooh, what about this story?” So I started it. “This seems like a neat concept.” And I started it. The result being a lot of “I started this based off of a half-formed concept and don’t know where to go with it, but I have now jumped from the train of thought of my other story and don’t know how to get back” situations.

The solution to this was, surprisingly, really simple. I made a concept document! Now, I just type up notes in my “Write it down!” doc and get back to it when I have the time. This means that I’m not rushing to come up with a full plot for a single piece of dialogue or a vague idea, but I also don’t feel like I’m abandoning them. I can keep expanding on the possibilities, knowing that when I get to them, that work will pay off, but also that I don’t have to have all of the details in my head. For someone who had previously done little writing down the things I needed to remember, preferring to just, well, remember them, it was a bit of a difficult transition to make, but it’s certainly been worth it.

A good example of what I couldn’t have done had I mentally catalogued the ideas instead is actually this year’s NaNo. I was working on another story, see, and it wasn’t until partway through October that I realized we were almost to this time of year again. Not wanting to come up with a new concept with such little time, I turned to my concept doc. If I had been trying to remember all of them and find the most fleshed-out idea to use, I probably still would have ended up choosing the story I did, but I would have misplaced some of its details. I also wouldn’t have been choosing from the full eleven choices that I had written down, because I wouldn’t have remembered what all of them were at any given time. I say this with full confidence, seeing as I just tried to remember all eleven (I cheated; I already have the number from counting them in my doc) and could only recall seven of them.

Anyways, just a friendly suggestion: write down your ideas! That might seem obvious, but for me it wasn’t, so I’m going to assume there are other folks like me who need the nudge.

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Hugging

This is another poem I wrote for the poetry unit, about a snake “hugging” a mouse. The narrator is a seven year-old boy who doesn’t realize what’s actually happening. It is imperative to the humor of this story that you read it in the voice of a pretentious small child. Warning: dark humor, euphemized death.

"Timmy, go outside!"
Mom's hollering across the house.
The door slams behind me.
She yells something
about attitude.
I mutter back about her not being the boss of me.
I'm seven now, after all.
I make sure it's just loud enough for our door cam to pick it up.
Really, I want to be out here.
It smells nice,
like pines,
and grass,
and wind,
and yesterday’s rain.

Not like inside.
Inside doesn’t smell nice at all.
Something’s broken, I don’t remember what.
When it’s nice and cold like today it turns on,
and the whole house smells like something is burning.
When it isn’t on,
it smells old.
I’m not sure which I hate more.

But I’m not inside anymore.
I’m trekking through my trees,
deciding what kind of adventure I’ll be having today.
Then I spot them.
I freeze.
I don’t want to startle them.
Either of them.
There’s a snake coiled around a pine,
and a mouse in front of it.
I wonder what they’re doing,
and I stay super still so they might let me see.
The snake leaps towards the mouse.
I flinch.
I’ve heard of some really scary snakes that’ll kill you with a bite,
but it doesn’t bite the mouse.
It hugs it tight,
like Aunt Joanna does to me when we see her.
I grin in delight.
I didn’t know animals hugged each other!
The mouse doesn’t look happy.
It’s squirming around,
like it’s trying to get loose.
I guess the snake really is like Aunt Joanna,
and that mouse really is like me.
I feel a bit bad for it.
I know what it’s like to get hugged by someone you really don’t like,
but I also know that I’m supposed to be polite and let them hug me,
and I think the same goes for mice, right?
So I just stand and wait and watch.

The snake squeezes harder.
Relatives always do when you try and escape their hugs.
Doesn’t the mouse know that?
If it would just stop squirming the snake would probably let it go.
Eventually, it does.
The mouse goes still.
I guess it figured out my trick,
cuz the snake lets go of it completely.
Either that or it said something really nasty.
I got in trouble for doing that to Aunt Joanna once.
She stopped hugging me faster than my sister runs when she sees a spider,
but then I got a talking-to and no dessert.
I think it’s easier to just stand still like one of the trees until she lets go.
I’m so excited that I sprint back to the house.
“Michelle!” I yell for my sister.
“You’ll never believe it!”
“I just saw a snake hugging a mouse!”

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The Beast

This is one of my favorite poems that I wrote for my eighth grade poetry unit. I present to you, “The Beast.”

The Beast prowls by the gates,
impatient to be unleashed.
Eager to return to the hunt
and sink her teeth into the prize.
But she has been banished here
by the keepers of her prey.

She cannot escape,
yet she scratches at the mass that holds her,
the horrible sound carrying down the corridors
as the obstacle slowly chips away.
She howls in frustration
as pieces of her prison fall away,
yet in whole it stands strong.

Bored, she turns to her cell.
What here can she do?
What to climb on?
What to destroy?
It depends on where she is held-
the keepers rotate her containment.

Sometimes she has company.
A keeper is kept with her,
much to their annoyance.
She scrapes at the walls,
calling out for freedom,
and bothering them in hope of release.

This time, she is alone.
The keeper would not stay with her.
The other obliged.
They needed help with the target anyways.
So there is nobody to appeal to;
no chance of sympathy.

I am a keeper:
the one who keeps her company.
Who escaped that fate, this time.
As her prey is moved again,
the other keeper turns to me.
“Unleash the Beast.”

I protest the order.
We know what will happen.
She will come for it,
again.
But the other stares me down.
“It’s been long enough. Go.”
And so I do.

I loiter down the passageway,
unenthusiastic about my task.
But I have my orders
from the head keeper.
I undo the latch.
Do I really have to?
Yes, I do.

I open it hesitantly, slowly.
The Beast pushes towards me.
As soon as it is open
just enough for her to squirrel through
she is out.
She ignores me, running past.

She is free!
She does not know where the target is,
where it has been moved to now,
but she does know where it often is.
She closes in on that place,
leaping towards her anticipated prize.

And the cat is on the counter again.
Time to lock her back in Mom’s room
while we eat our dinner.

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We Must Survive Surviv!

Yes, you read that right, and no, it isn’t a typo. Surviv is a third person shooter game, meaning you see your character from an overhead view. I’ve been told that it’s the 2-D version of Fortnight, but I can neither confirm nor deny that, seeing as I haven’t played Fortnight.

You destroy crates to get guns, ammo, grenades, melee weapons, outfits, medical supplies, and gear, which can also be found lying around sometimes. You may also find scopes, which increase your field of view. There are different types of ammo for the different types of guns (they’re color-coded), and different guns within each type. Everyone has their own preferences; I like the yellow-ammo weaponry because they tend to have large clips, and I’m not the most accurate shot.

Medical supplies are split into two groups, which I call “healing” and “adrenaline.” Healing supplies are bandages and med kits, which directly restore health. Adrenaline supplies are consumed, and then gradually give you health back until the adrenaline bar runs out. Gear is split into backpacks, helmets, and armor, each of which has three levels of possibility. Obviously, the higher the level, the better. Outfits are mostly useless, but there are a few that provide excellent camouflage.

The game has a “last one standing” premise to it. As the game progresses, the map gradually gets smaller as the “Red Zone” moves inwards. Standing in the Red Zone is possible, but your health decreases. You can see where the Red Zone will be moving to at any given time in the mini map, which is expandable if you hit “M.” How you survive is up to you – some people like to attack anything that comes near them until they’re the only one left, and some like to hide in bushes until they’re one of the last people left, and then they attack the remaining adversaries. It’s up to you!

You can also play “Squad,” either with random other players or with a group of friends. Let me tell you, it is an excellent experience to try and play this game with a group of teenagers in various, spread-out locations in the same room (*cough* passing period *cough*). It’s insane.

Squads are nice because you can communicate with your team to ask for certain supplies or ask them to go somewhere. You also don’t die immediately. Instead, you go to a slow and helpless crawl until one of your teammates revives you or you bleed out, which sounds awful, but it’s nice to get a second chance, and it rewards team members who stay with the rest of the squad by increasing their chances of revival.

It can take a little while to acclimate to the controls, but if you play enough it becomes automatic. Right click is communication/drop this item, left click is attack, , WASD are movement, 1-4 are selections of weapons (gun, gun, melee, grenade), F is to pick something up or open and close doors, and M is the map.

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