Yeoldebard
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They sat together in lavender-infused methane. The soft brown walls enclosed them, offering no escape from what was about to come. A blue Egaro sat in a leather chair, his eyes looking between Jeisa and Leo, not really seeing them. “For this meeting, I would like us to communicate with each other as best as we can. No grunts, nothing ambiguous. Leo, please use your tablet for all communications. It is important to hear each other. We will wait for you, and there will be no interruptions.” Si
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Warmth. Dark. “I got ya,” Thanatos murmured again, soothingly. His wings unfolded, and Mason found himself in… his room. Watching, as Candace Jenkins read to a corpse, as Wishbone sat in a dead man’s lap. “She doesn’t know?” “Give it a couple seconds to take.” Wishbone whimpered suddenly, jumping off his lap. And Mason slumped. “Mason? Mason?!” “There it is,” Thanatos said, as Candace raced from the room to grab someone. “I really got fucked up there in the end, huh?” Mason rubbe
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“Is this thing on? Damn it Braden… always the most expensive… fuck it, it’s on or it’s not- Hey everyone! Welcome to the start of another Farewell Tour! I’m afraid I have to start this tour with some bad news. This will be the final Farewell Tour from Mason Hill. In addition, an extra stop has been added, so make sure you stay tuned for that. We start, as always, with Wyatt Marcus Brown Jr.” Neatly trimmed grass covered a group of graves, marked by marble headstones. The summer sun beat down o
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Eh, that's too smart for the military
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Autumn. They pushed. Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 184th Infantry Regiment, stood under garish floodlights, checking and double checking their gear. Before them, a concrete bunker contained a pane that looked out over a dark forest. Wide enough for four people to cross through at a time, this pane was the source of all of Auburn’s troubles. Over the past year, guards had watched a thick wooden palisade build up some yards distant, bristling with orcs, with ballistae. The US Army replied
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Summer again. Mason didn’t know what had changed, but it felt like the war was over. They patrolled the city, but more and more, he relaxed. There were no orcs here. There was a cordon around the portal itself — any creature that emerged was shot on sight. Whispers grew that soon, they would push through the portals themselves, they would take the fight to the orcs, and show them why you don’t wake the American war machine. But for now, the army was happy enough to keep to their patrols, and r
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He was gone for a month. And in that time, Mason learned a few things. One, Alex Walsh fucked up. Mason wasn’t supposed to make E-4 until nearly two years in service. He was at least 6-8 months off. Two, corporals weren’t required to go to Basic Leadership Course; that was only for E-4s who wanted the chance to become sergeants. Three… the ocean breeze in summer was rather nice when doing PT. Because PT was the name of the game. Sure, most of the day was spent in classrooms, covering fascinati
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Another airport, another plane. They touched down at 0500 hours the day after Jack’s funeral. Mason trudged into the terminal, halfheartedly trying to remember which way was out, what time the buses started, where he could pick up some chow for Wishbone. He had until 2359 hours before he’d officially be considered AWOL, so there was no need to rush, and certainly no desire to. The pain still throbbed, but for the moment at least, he was all cried out. It was almost a relief. A deep relief that
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Mason Hill had done many impossible things in his life. Walking away from home with his dog at his side. Rebuilding himself after his mother’s death. Clinging to a dying man as his breaths faded. It was not enough. The world demanded more. He sat on a plane beside a long silver container, never once removing his eyes from the spot. All around him, passengers moved, went about their business, lost in their own cares and needs. Wishbone stood silent guard with him, as a kid poked at him, pulle
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He woke up entwined in Leo’s arms again. Jeisa rested his head against the human’s chest, listening to the soft breaths, the shushing heartbeat, feeling the gentle rise and fall. Today was their first couples counseling session with Ulbrin. All too soon, Leo would wake up. They would part. And life would continue dragging Jeisa down. But right now, there was only this moment with the male he loved. Think positive. Ulbrin pointed out that he was always thinking about the worst that could happen
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That summer, Mason Hill entered a close relationship with Death in all its forms. It started with a ramp ceremony. Not his first, gods no. Soldiers had been dying since the day he arrived at his unit. But it was the first time he stood formation, the first time his body formed a corridor, the first time he watched, as five containers were escorted 100 yards to the waiting aircraft. Five lives ended, five people he didn’t know, but Mason stood for them as they would have stood for him. Life
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The US Army, in its infinite wisdom, decided constant combat was detrimental to the emotional well-being of the American Soldier. The US Army, in its infinite benevolence, decided one week every two months was necessary to get the American Soldier back into fighting spirits. Mason started summer break in a cemetery. He’d been pushing this off. He’d said his goodbyes, said all he needed to say. What was the use in revisiting old traumas? Yet here he was, watching Jack babble on and on to a
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Living on the front lines of a war was surreal. Every time he stepped out of their barn, Mason expected to hear yells going up that the orcs were attacking, that they’d finally reached critical mass. Or worse, he expected to hear nothing at all. Just splitting pain, then nothing. But predictions held true: even the orcs hesitated to fight in the mountains in winter. It made little sense to Mason — snow in Auburn California was about as common as rain in Phoenix Arizona. If water froze over dur
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Mason lost control. But then, he’d never had it to begin with. It started with the airport. He’d assumed they were going to Sacramento; that was the closest airport to their unit. It wasn’t until they’d landed and he disembarked with Wishbone that Mason realised he was in Reno again. “Why?” Braden scoffed. “Unlike a certain dumbass I know, I know better than to report to my unit early. And I know you; you’ll make the same mistake five times just to make sure you got it wrong the first ti
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How was it, when you thought you had nothing more to give, nothing more to lose, the world always found a way to torture you even further? He needed to explain himself. Defend his actions. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to beg for forgiveness for abandoning the only one who’d ever truly loved him. But there was no one left. Mason sat against the wall in their room. He would never know how long he’d been there. Certainly, for the rest of the day, he was left alone. Powerless as C
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They say time heals all wounds. They lied. Five days in Fort Hamilton. Five days of memorising scripts, five days of training with Brutus, learning commands. Bumping into walls. Tripping over steps. Five days of unending pain. “It’s not acting, it’s playing pretend. Think back to when you were a kid, playing war with your friends.” The woman beamed at him encouragingly. Mason stared blankly past her. “Just channel that energy, and aim at the dots.” He stood in front of the blue screen.
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Mason Hill was a private in the US Army. The only thing lower than him in the Army’s eyes were recruits. Privates didn’t make demands. They didn’t get special privileges. A spoiled fundie who had the ear of a congressman, did. Was it selfless duty to volunteer as a VIP’s personal body guard? Was it a sense of obligation that drove a soldier to volunteer for dog poop duty? Or was Braden Cavendish so much of a self-centred asshole that he had to shove his way into Mason’s new-found fame? Mas
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“Leopold Cook?” Methane filled the waiting room. After a while, Leo barely noticed it anymore. The stench had filled his mind, been noticed, then filed away where it could do no more harm. More disconcerting was the disembodied voice in his head. It wasn’t God — surely God wouldn’t question who he was. But the possibility still made him tremble. He yelped as a blue human appeared out of thin air. The man seemed confused as Leo leapt from his chair. Leo knew him. This was the man who’d rais
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The Gold Country Fairgrounds tent city was… disappointing. Nearly forty acres of land, the fairgrounds were home to convention centres, massive stables for cattle, and the rare restroom. Wide open fields were covered by 16-man tents — Mason was not looking forward to the bloodbath that would be trying to coax his tent mates to allow Wishbone inside one. “You have been laying off the brussel sprouts, right?” he muttered. Wishbone wagged. But he needn’t have worried. For in their supreme ben
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They stood in formation before half-empty bleachers. Capped by black berets, pinned by crossed rifles, the latest batch of US army recruits stood in unseasonal heat, fighting sweat, nerves, exhaustion, exultation, as they awaited the final word. “Dismissed.” With one word, they were doomed. With one word, they were elevated. With one word, they were no longer recruits, but infantrymen in the United States Army. Private First Class Mason Hill turned with a smile, gazing down at Sergeant Wis
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March here. Run there. Sound off loud and strong. And never let them know. Another secret shared. Another secret kept. A blue flash. Euphoria. A crash, a breakdown. Quietly, quietly. Lay your shattered soul into bed. The only safe place left. Never let them know. Someone knew. “When’s the funeral?” Wyatt stared at him over a breakfast of eggs, perfectly cooked for once. Somehow, the DFAC had breakfast down to a science. They ached. A fragile connection, cut by unfeeling time. A neces
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The door closed. Silence. Tense, nervous silence. Mason knelt down, unclipping Wishbone’s leash. Removing his vest. Folding them, setting them on a dresser. Next, his shoes. Laces tied and tucked — it was ingrained at this point. Next… next… what was next? What else could he do that would stave off- A bed squeaked. They’d gotten two beds, naturally; a single bed would have raised so many questions no one wanted asked… or answered. Mason turned. Wyatt was removing his own shoes. A rep
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Anvil. Omaha. Church. Somehow Mason survived it all. Somehow, no one tried to kill him again. Somehow, he was assigned squad leader. Early days, late nights. Writing letters for his companions. Talking them into pushing forward, encouraging them not to give in. Forcing himself to do better, be stronger, faster. His squad was improving. Morale was shining bright. And Mason was miserable. He’d done this all before, sure. He’d muddled through. He’d done as expected. He’d been perfectly, pai
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Mason finally got to see the infamous 30th AG. He’d been through this hell twice already. He’d be just fine. Off the bus. Toe the line in the dark. Try not to look too tired — that would come later. Drill sergeants came up, talked shit. Mason handed over his phone like a good boy — he’d at least had the courtesy to send Braden a text while on the bus, letting him know Mason would be beyond all help for the next… fuck, he didn’t know how long. That did not bode well. Eyes on Wishbone. Spittle
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Week 4. He wasn’t talking to Jack. Garrett never talked to Jack to begin with. Mason was starting to see miniscule cracks in his cheer. Served him right. How many times did he have to tell Jack he didn’t need his help hooking up? If Mason wanted to fuck, that was what Sakis was for. He didn’t. End of story. And Mark. Mason saw him once or twice, roaming the DFAC, doing his laundry. There was no “hello”, no apology for the whole situation. If anything, Mark acted like he didn’t even exist.
