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    • I've been testing https://www.crowdsec.net/ for a while, but it works best if you can run the client directly on your router.
    • Wow.. only 5 or 6 chapters left. Gotta tell ya I may cry with a good happy ending. I've loved a lot of your work and this one may be my new favorite. I cant wait to see how it ends and I hope you come back to it again in the future 
    • All right! Here we go with the next chapter of GBtR, but first, the reply:   No plan is foolproof, true. And I'd think a new apartment is in that deal. And the client is very, very well-informed. And now, the chapter:   -   Chapter Four: Summer (Even Though It's Really Spring) Love   -   The night of the heist was a week-and-half later. Stolas Goetia’s mansion and the greenhouse had been cased to the absolute last room, the infiltration had been done without a single hitch, the operation had been plotted out to the minute detail.   And there’s still a lot of potential for things to go completely wrong, Millie thought to herself.   She was disguised in a maid’s outfit, completely unarmed, as she needed to be inside the Goetia mansion; the weapons they needed had been planted in a specific room after the interview she and Moxxie had both done with one of the imp butlers for extra staff, where hopefully nobody would find it.   I.M.P. found out that Stolas was hosting damn near every Goetia at the mansion that night. Apparently, it was to satisfy his social butterfly of a wife; he was only there because custom dictated that he should be there.   There was also apparently an eighteen-year-old daughter Stolas and his wife had that Stolas personally doted on, which shocked them; they had thought he was gay, but apparently, he needed an heir like Goetia tended to have. Loona had been the one to find that out, and she hadn’t said much of anything other than that…or even talked after that period. Millie thought she had an idea why the teenager was being so withdrawn when it came to that subject, but she wasn’t going to be the first to say anything.   They each had their roles: Moxxie was a waiter, Millie was a maid, Loona was hired for extra security (and she was going to do the actual theft, which Millie was concerned about), and Blitz…Blitz was the distraction for the party.   They had all arrived at the party, the van that Blitz owned taking them to the place (with Millie as the eventual getaway driver after the festivities were done), when Loona spoke for the first time in five days.   “Millie, can I talk to you?” the teen hellhound asked quietly, looking at Moxxie with a look of distrust.   Millie looked at Moxxie and said, “We’ll be out soon, Moxx.”   The male imp seemed to have a pep in his step after the nickname, straightened the bowtie on his immaculate butler outfit, and exited the van.   “What do you want to talk about?” Millie asked the hellhound politely.   “I…” The teenager seemed to go quiet instantly, and the imp, seeing the nervousness, decided to take the plunge.   “Hun, it’s about the Goetia girl, isn’t it?” Millie coaxed.   Loona’s eyes widened, and then, to the female imp’s shock, started to cry like a young child as she curled up in a ball and sobbed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to like girls as well as guys, I’m horrible-”   “No, you’re not,” Millie said kindly, realizing that the poor girl must’ve grown up in a completely homophobic place in Hell. “Listen, hun, there’s nothing wrong with love. You find the Goetia girl pretty, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of with that; if I was your age and attracted to women, I’d think the same thing.”   “But I, she said…” Loona immediately bit her lip until blood drew, mixing with her tears.   “She’s wrong. Look, Blitz, your dad-”   “He’s not my dad,” the hellhound said immediately before taking a deep breath. “My parents are dead, he’s taking care of me, and I’m grateful for that, but they’re my parents, and I’m not going to dishonor their memory.”   “Not even as a stepfather?”   “Not even as that. I appreciate him taking care of me, and he’s the kindest man I’ve known since my parents died, but he’s not related to me. Period.”   Millie understood the feeling. Nobody replaced good birth parents, after all, and all of the issues of stepfamily in Hell made matters a lot more complex than just saying that your birth family was your true family and nobody else was.   “Blitz is attracted to men and women alike, is all I’m trying to say. Is he wrong for that?”   “She…”   “Hun, whoever she is, she’s wrong. Love is love, and it’s not a bad thing to fall in love, especially one as young as you. The only issue I have? She’s the daughter of our mark.”   “I know, and…” Loona sniffled. “I hate it. I hate feeling like I’m jumping out of a plane without a parachute, I feel so stupid, I just…”   The female imp noted that the teenaged hellhound probably needed space, but she couldn’t help but add one thing in, “You know, Moxxie is bi himself. You might have more in common than you think.”   Millie was stunned to see Loona start to rock in the balled position she was in, nibbling on her claws, looking like she was on the verge of a massive meltdown of tears, like she had transformed into a terrified little kid again. When the answer finally came back to Millie, and to the imp’s surprise and sorrow, It wasn’t spiteful or mean-spirited like it normally was around the subject of her roommate. It was a dead and defeated whimper, like the hellhound girl’s spirit had been completely shattered by what she had gone through, like she was flashing back to her experiences…or what she experienced from a single person, in particular.   “I look at him, and all I see is Agatha beating me because I cried about something that reminded me of my parents. I listen to him and all I hear is Agatha saying that I should kill myself because that’s what my worthless parents did, and I’m worth less than they were.”   “Moxxie’s been badly hurt as well,” Millie coaxed. “You two might be more alike than you want to admit. Just…try to cut him some slack, and I’ll ask him to be nicer to you, okay?”   “‘Kay.”   Then Moxxie’s voice came in, exceedingly gentle and kind, but with pain in that voice as well, as if he too had awful memories of a specific person. “I’m sorry, Loona. I’m sorry that I reminded you of a horrible person in your life. I understand that as much as anyone, and I’m sorry I did that to you. If I knew that had happened to you as well as me, I wouldn’t have done it.”   “’M sorry, too,” Loona murmured, still rocking a bit, her tail curled in between her legs. “Shouldn’t have been mean to you. You listened, right?”   “Only the last few sentences and to tell you that it’s time in about forty minutes.” Moxxie held his hand, as if to gently touch Loona…and she allowed it, to Millie’s shock, allowed Moxxie to rub her head to comfort her. “I won’t judge you anymore. But I need you not to judge me on first glance as well, to actually give me a chance. Is that fair?”   “Sure,” Loona murmured, seemingly put at ease.   “Believe me, I get why you find Octavia Goetia hot,” Moxxie said with a slight smirk. “She’s not around the age group I’m interested in, but she is attractive. But we do need you to focus on the task at hand, so keep her out of your mind for it, okay?”   “Shut it,” Loona said…but with a smile as she stood up and stretched her limbs.   The three exited the van, ready to do their jobs as needed. All of them walked over to the Goetia manor, guarded by a member of Stolas’s legion.   “ID?” the hooded bird said in a calm, unflappable tone.   The three showed the IDs they had been given for the interview after they had aced them.   “Right. You.” He pointed at Loona, “head over to the barracks. Security meeting should be close to starting; they’ll set you straight on your patrol route. You two,” He pointed at Moxxie and Millie, “will be in the kitchen for your jobs. The staff meeting should be soon. Don’t be late.”   “Yes, Sir,” Millie said before carrying Moxxie with her, praying to Satan that Loona wasn’t going to blow this over a girl…even though she could see why Loona was feeling the teenaged hormones; the Goetia girl was pretty.   The two imps were given haughty glances by various Goetia already there but were otherwise ignored…except for one of them: a monstrous humanoid one with sunken eyes and little nubs for teeth. That one gave Millie an ugly look that sent shivers screaming down her spine.   “Hello, beautiful,” the monstrous Goetia crooned. “What is your name?”   “Mollie,” Millie said, using her undercover name, praying that this Goetia wasn’t going to be a problem.   “I hope you’ll give me entertainment.” The monster was still crooning, and Millie was freaking out with his sheer degenerate overtones. “Maybe not the cuckold with you, but you…”   “Bifrons, stop annoying the hired help, maldito asqueroso!” a macaw Goetia demon snapped.   The monster almost looked annoyed. “Of course, Vassago,” he said in an oily, disappointed tone. “I’ll let them on their way.”   Bifrons lumbered away, and the macaw sighed. “What a pervertido,” the macaw Goetia grumbled. “I’ll bring it up with Stolas, and hopefully, I won’t see that estúpido cabrón for the rest of the night...”   Moxxie got Millie moving again to the kitchen where the kitchen help was hustling to get the last touches of the dinner done.   “Ah, you two,” the main butler of the house, the one who vetted them, said. “You, Maxx, you’ll be in the fourth sitting room quadrant; remember; if a guest calls you over, answer him or her immediately, give them what they want. We don’t want any issues, period. And Mollie, you’ll need to clean up everything in your quadrant. You’ll also be in the fourth sitting room, that’s where we have the least amount of people. Clean up after the Goetia, and don’t argue with anyone. I expect an impeccable job from both of you.”   Fourth sitting room. That’s where our weapons are. Good.   “Yes, sir,” they chorused before blushing at their simultaneous words.   The butler gave them an appraising look, before he sighed. “Then be on your way.”   -   Vassago's translations: maldito asqueroso = you fucking creep pervertido = pervert (masculine) estúpido cabrón = stupid bastard Hope you enjoyed~
    • No...not really.  If I need to change...then I just go change.  I guess my whole stash is my 'spare' 
    • All right, the next chapter for Curses! is ready! Here we go:   -   Chapter Five: Maned Wolf Pup   -   Tempest Pitcairn was waiting for her girlfriend to finish with the interview, and it was taking a long time.   She was a bit annoyed at Connie whispering sweet nothings on the phone to her boyfriend, someone named “Raffy” or whatever, and worrying about two guys by the names of “Felix” and “Giovanni” being bad influences, by what she was saying. She wished that she was in a state that allowed her to say those sweet nothings to Shiloh, that allowed her to get married to the African wild dog like she wanted to be, like they both wanted to be, to strum her bass guitar and make a happy song about their love, just like she wanted.   The maned wolf’s eyes misted over as she tried not to cry. She wanted her maned wolf mother, Zipporah, to accept that she loved Shiloh as more than a friend, but she just didn’t understand, thought that they were just friends, and not…more. Her fennec fox father, Ishmael, was somewhat more thoughtful, but he wasn’t perfect, not with his…track record with kids. He had her two older half-brothers - Aquillius the fennec fox and Rhett the culpeo - out of wedlock and therefore, wasn’t the best with his kids’ feelings; she knew that both of her older half-brothers resented her mother and father deeply.   She got along with her half-brothers okay, she thought. Aquillius was a lot nicer to her than Rhett was, but she knew that the latter had every right to be upset with everyone; the culpeo must’ve felt like a complete outcast, having his mother pass a long while before Ishmael came back into the picture and accepted him. She knew her father was trying to be a good dad, but she could understand Rhett’s aloofness towards her family, Aquillius’s anger towards her mom and dad (in spite of working at the same restaurant as Aquillius, both as chefs. They seemed to get along better with each other, being around the same age, older than she was.), even with her being caught in the middle.   At least both of my brothers are okay with me and Shiloh being together…   Tempest was deep in her thoughts, her family struggles, when the raspy old voice brought her out of her stupor with the words, “If we could see the next young lady, Constanza?”   The flying squirrel seemed annoyed at her full name being said, grumbling, “It’s Connie, how many times-” She stopped short of saying anything else, a hazy look in her eyes   Tempest, meanwhile, had a bounce in her step, even though she was a bit confused as to why Shiloh wasn’t out of the room yet. Connie merely looked somewhat confused, like she had slipped into her own headspace of blank thoughts.   “Good luck,” Connie said in a surprising monotone voice to the maned wolf, as she stepped inside of the room.   The room was fucking weird.   A lot of childish drawings and scribbles were on the walls. There was even a toy guitar, obviously for babies, on the wall, perched perfectly on two hooks. The only available chair - as two elderly creatures sat on the other beanbags: a porcupine and another who wasn’t visible for whatever reason. She knew the animal, but for whatever reason, she couldn’t see them clearly. - was a babyish beanbag chair of a pufferfish.   Tempest sighed and reluctantly sat on the beanbag, feeling it envelop her as she sunk into it, relaxing as much as she could.   “Hello, dearie,” the porcupine said. She was absolutely old, having all of her spines silver with age, if not outright missing from her body, her eyes rheumy and filled with cataracts, her posture bent. “It is good to see you.”   “Did Shiloh pass?” Tempest asked.   “Yes, she did, and you will pass as well, so long as you are honest with me.”   The words didn’t seem ominous, but the maned wolf was worried for whatever reason. This seemed like a very sketchy job, but she had to ask…   “What about the pay?” she asked.   “We will discuss it after the interview.”   The maned wolf felt nervous before the old porcupine said, “It will be fine, dearie. May I have your name?”   “Tempest Pitcairn.” Tempest didn’t know why the words came out immediately, but they did, as if she wanted to say them. “Who are you?”   “I am Eira Pilkvist. But Tempest Pitcairn. That is a pretty name.” She felt her spirits soaring at the praise. “What is your favorite color?”   “Um, red.”   “Then why are you not wearing red?”   “There’s no red shirts that are cool enough to wear.” Tempest felt a little bit more comfortable. Maybe this interview wouldn’t be as bad as she thought it would be.   “What is your family like?”   The interview began to crash and burn; that question hit too close to home. “I don’t want to talk about it,” the maned wolf said defensively.   “Are they good to you?” the porcupine coaxed gently.   “I…maybe? Momma doesn’t understand, I love Shiloh as mowe than fwiends,” She didn’t realize how childishly she was saying the words. “Dadda had his two kids, my big bwothews, out of…wewee? Wawa?” The word was fading from her mind.   “Wedlock?”   “Yesh, dat.” Tempest barely realized that she was lisping as a toddler would.   “Do you get along with your brothers?”   “Yesh, me do, maybe…” the maned wolf said, her voice quiet. “Whett seems…dishtant, Aquiwwius ish nishe to me.”   “I apologize if I have brought up bad memories. Are these your drawings on the wall?   “Yesh!” Tempest’s tone was excited, barely feeling the dampness on her bottom. “Me made dem! An’ dat’s me guitaw!” She pointed to the babyish guitar on the wall, bouncing in her chair excitedly.   “They are very beautiful drawings, and I am sure you play the guitar beautifully. I think you need a change, though, Tempest.”   She did realize that there was a horrible smell around her jean shorts. Her bottom lip quivered, tears entered her eyes, and she cried, cried like a damned baby.   “WAAAAAAAAAH!”H   “It is okay, dearie. We came prepared for any little accidents. You are not at fault.”   Tempest felt the porcupine, now enormous and seemingly a lot younger than before with her quills becoming a normal color for a middle-aged porcupine, take her out of the giant beanbag chair, cradle and bounce her in her arms to her sniffling, and get out a fluffy…thing. Her clothes were taken off, suddenly too big for her, her poopy bottom and intimate parts wiped, as she shivered, before the fluffy thing was put on her.   “Now, big girls need their sleep,” the porcupine cooed as she cradled the maned wolf as easily as a female animal would carry a purse.   Tempest tried to keep her eyes open, the very tiny part of her still an adult knowing the same thing had probably happened to Shiloh…but when she yawned, she found herself fast asleep.   -   Hope y'all enjoyed~
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