#og characters

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Firstly, Li Lianhua goes spelunking in the Sanatorium's basement:

The first filing cabinet he tried was made of dark wood with little scoop handles, and contained cards hand-written in Sütterlin script from between 1880 and 1918, sorted by Berlin streets and then doctors' surgeries by house number, listing the referrals to the sanatorium that had come from the surgery, one card per patient. Li Lianhua was able to read it (if you could read grass script in Chinese, Sütterlin was positively banal), and needed five minutes to stop himself — yeah, fascinating, but nothing to do with either Di Feisheng's trauma flashback, or the mystery of Carmen.

This cabinet alone would provide material for several doctoral theses, but Li Lianhua had never met a historian in Berlin. Perhaps they looked for hookups in places that he was not yet initiated into. Or maybe never would be, in view of those two guys who seemed determined to keep him busy and entirely hookup-free.

He closed the filing cabinet and moved on.

In the next room, the filing cabinets were much newer, made of metal, and contained not only paper but also spools of reel-to-reel audiotape, which felt very ominous, if mostly useless without the apparatus to play it back. There was Super8 film as well, to which the same exception applied. However, you usually could see what it was about if you held it into the light and peered at it.

Li Lianhua turned on the flashlight on his phone and shone it through a random bit of film.

There were children walking in a long line past the rear wall of the main building, escorted by a few nurses in short 1970s dresses.

One of the nurses was Carmen.

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Then, Shiva the Improbable Cat steals a fishing boat and must be rescued:

"More often than we'd like," Fang Duobing was saying. "Well, Shiva getting into situations. He has never stolen a boat before — that's an absolute first. I guess he liked the fish smell."

"Cats do that," the fisherman said, trying to nod sagely at the bizarre spectacle in his plain, homely little boat.

"He's such an awkward cat," Fang Duobing prattled on. Di Feisheng started to ignore him, on favour of observing Li Lianhua.

Wet clothes streaming behind him and clinging in front, he had waded all the way to where the boat was drifting now, reaching out for the prow and pulling himself up to touch the distraught cat, who turned, recognised his person, and immediately calmed down.

"It's all right," Li Lianhua said. "I've got you!"

He was leaning on the edge of the boat, wading through the shallow lake shore to push the boat and his cat towards the pier where the fisherman was waiting. The wet under-robes were clinging to his skin, the double fold crossing over his chest to bring out Li Lianhua's two pectorals to great, disquieting effect. Cold, peaked nipples were pushing against the thin, wet fabric on top of them, their small, dark areolae clearly visible under the pale silk.

Di Feisheng felt his breath catch, and he closed his eyes, briefly, to get himself under control. His glance slid over to the fisherman, but luckily (for himself) the man was concentrating on his catch, trying to control the slide of silvery bodies before the hungry cat returned.

Fang Duobing, on the other hand, looked a bit like a fish on dry land himself, gaping at Li Lianhua with clearly the same thoughts (or sentiments, at least) as Di Feisheng himself.

Li Lianhua caught their eyes.

"Don't look so surprised," he said, pushing the boat firmly against the jetty, where the fisherman grabbed hold of it. "He's a cat; of course he likes fish."

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Aboard the Research Vessel Lianhua-Lou, Qiao Wanmian's wedding to Xiao Zijin is still on:

"Don't tell me that after all this mess, the wedding is still on?" Fang Duobing said, incredulously.

He was just making breakfast, after a long and glorious sparring bout with A-Fei, who had left early and returned soon, full of energy and good spirits. He refused to tell anything before Li Lianhua was back from his heart-to-heart with Qiao Wanmian.

"Why would she even want to talk to him in private," he had said, but A-Fei just shook his glorious hair and waved his bat'leth, impatient for him to attack.

So attack he did.

Di Feisheng looked rather pedestrian in his green RV Lianhua Lou coveralls, but he moved with the same fiendish grace he had displayed while wearing the red leather uniform that he had arrived in that was currently sitting in a sonic shower turned on the very lowest setting, getting cleaned as carefully as possible.

Now, A-Fei was sitting in his favourite kitchen chair, watching Fang Duobing as he made croissants from pre-prepared dough. He filled them with many different fillings, some of which may have been a bit inadvisable — but if Li Lianhua was allowed to make questionable culinary choices, so was he!

Li Lianhua had coffee while leaning against the kitchen cabinets, and no opinion about the croissants.

"I just dropped by the USS Sentinel for a moment, but preparations were in full swing," A-Fei said. "Our invitations are still good, too. At least they let me get onto the ship and back out."

"No scanners this time?" Li Lianhua asked. "How considerate. Did you see anything except the wedding preparations?"

"Yes, they have my guy," Di Feisheng said. "I suppose we'd best go and talk to him after the wedding reception."

"Stop being so enigmatic!" Fang Duobing protested. It was really unfair -- were they expecting hi to pilot a shuttle while blindfolded, too?

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In the World of the Morning After, Ye Baiyi has just caught the Scorpion:

"The books, shifu!" Xuan-er was saying to him. "Where did you put them?"

"There are several stacks of them…" added a stranger in rough blue-grey work clothes, braids dangling from underneath a coarse wide straw hat. "Master Ye, please tell us which stack is for us?"

A wide mouth that would be almost toad-like when smirking, soft dark eyes with an amount of make-up around them that would totally ruin the credibility of the 'honest workman from the village' vibe if you got a good look at it, on a man so short that he had to push his hat aside to talk to Ye Baiyi, towering over him, and reveal a face that was utterly familiar, even though Baiyi's current eyes had never seen it before.

"You!!" Ye Baiyi said, pointing at him in accusation.

"Me? What me?" the familiar stranger shot back, aiming for innocence but only hitting a note of bitchiness.

"It's him!" Baiyi exclaimed when he felt Changqing's eyes turn to him. "The Scorpion! Zhao Xie, the adopted son of that traitor Zhao Jing — we have been talking about him recently, and here he is, in the middle of our workshop courtyard!"

"Can't I even come as a labourer to the place that ought to mine one day, if you hadn't killed my adopted father?" the young man hissed, not denying it. "I am merely working, like all the others, aren't I? I'm not even complaining."

"The paint on your eyes says otherwise," Ye Baiyi said. "Drop the act, Xie-er: - what do you want from us?"

"You don't have the right to call me that," Xie-er said, almost softly; his smile at Baiyi was as flirtatious and confused as it had been that day, in the other reality, at Zhao Jing's premature banquet of triumph.

"You don't know me," Ye Baiyi said, "but I know you, brat, and I want to know what you are on about."

Xie-er whipped out one of his trademark daggers, jumped into the air, shouted "Kill!!" and threw himself at Ye Baiyi.

There were perhaps five or seven other labourers who attacked Baiyi and Changqing; the others cowered.

Of course, a dozen disciples of Taihu Manor came running immediately.

"Don't kill the real villagers!" Ye Baiyi ordered them just as Changqing decapitated one of the actual attackers with Longbei.

The mooks were quite obviously (both from their style and their attire) from the Beggar's Guild; these were probably the same in any world or reality. Baiyi pushed Xie-er away and unwound the Baiyi sword from his waist, where it lived in his belt; a brief shot of qi through the blue jewel stiffened it, like a normal sword.

The enormous beauty of it lay in the fact that it could be wielded in both ways, as a soft sword and a hard sword, and just now, Baiyi wanted the solid length of hard steel to keep the Scorpion away without damaging him.

"Don't kill him!" he shouted at Qin Huaizhang who turned up next, "he's got answers I need! So convenient of him to turn up on his own; we were going to go look for him next."

"Stop talking, old man!" Xie-er spat; Baiyi took the opportunity to drive him backwards, to where the surviving three beggars were cowering underneath Longbei.

Changqing effortlessly grabbed the Scorpion from behind and immobilised his wrists; four of the disciples seized the other disarmed attackers while Xuan-er already shouted for buckets so the spilled blood wouldn't seep into the flagstones.

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And finally, a first glimpse of "Chiara Maria & Frida", the original story I started writing on New Year's, after pondering the plot bunny for several years. I suddenly knew how I would approach the story -- outside POV as told by a gay guy of roughly my own age. I can't seriously write a story just about privileged straight white women, say sorry. But I need privileged straight white women to pull off the spooky idea that wouldn't leave me alone. I am writing this in German, so Google Translate is your friend.

Damals, paar Jahre vor der Pandemie, wurden plötzlich ein paar junge Frauen in unserem Freundeskreis gleichzeitig schwanger. Wenn du Musik machst, kennst du immer viele Leute, weil Musik halt am besten in Gruppen funktioniert, egal ob es Bands sind, Orchester, elitäre Vokalensembles oder der Schulchor. Kinder gehören dazu, und ich habe nie behauptet, zu schwul für anderer Leuts Fortpflanzung zu sein. Das ist eh albern. Ohne Schwangerschaften keine Kinderchöre.

Zuerst kam Louise, die jüngste Ärztin aus der Gemeinschaftspraxis im Nachbarhaus, die sich sehr ernsthaft bemühte, einmal in der Woche von mir das Klavierspiel zu erlernen. Betonung liegt auf 'bemühte'. Es war ein Wunschkind und Vater war keiner im Bilde. Ich wollte nicht nach Details fragen und gratulierte nur recht freundlich. Natürlich hatte ich eine Meinung zum Einfluss von Musik auf Kinder im Mutterleib, weil sich darüber so wunderschön interdisziplinäre Forschung betreiben lässt, die dann wiederum in allen Fachzeitschriften eine Runde breitgetreten wird. Louise hatte als Medizinerin auch eine Meinung, also redeten wir uns voller Begeisterung so richtig in Rage.

Die zweite war Jennifer aus meinem Yogakurs. Das Yogastudio war damals nur ein paar Straßenecken weiter; leider haben sie während Corona diese Niederlassung zugemacht. Damals war ich zweimal die Woche dort, und Jennifer war fast immer in den selben Kursen. Sie hatte die richtige Sorte Humor, und wir saßen oft noch im Café um die Ecke. Sie hatte einen Freund, und nach dem ersten Schock (Newsflash — Heten-Sex führt manchmal zu Babies!) gefiel ihm die Idee richtig gut, Vater zu werden.

Hudson observed everything with interest as they stepped out of the carriage. He stepped to the side and offered his hand to Zenith. He took it, using it to aid him down the steps. Hudson let go as soon as Zenith touched the ground. Zenith gave a small nod to the carriage driver and they shut the door before getting in the front to find a parking spot. Hudson assumed his position slightly behind Zenith as they walked into the building before them. 

Zenith was graciously invited to one of the biggest pet buying events. Every month he would scout out a few to be bought and retrained so that he could sell them at a much higher price. Hudson didn’t always go with him, but whenever he did he never enjoyed it much. It was hard to block out the thoughts of products. They were always in a lot of pain, at least the ones that were sold on the main floor. If Zenith wanted any of the pretty ones, they were at the wrong auction.

Zenith stopped in front of the door, looking over his shoulder at Hudson. “I want you to pay close attention to the products on display. Find something you like.” Hudson nodded curtly, no verbal response necessary. Zenith looked in front of him again and opened the doors wide. 

Immediately, Hudson was hit with a wall of fear from the products and pure smugness from the sellers. There were stands set up as closely to each other as possible to fit as many as they could. To the left of the main floor was a maze of stands selling creatures and objects alike. On the right was the auction stage with rows of seats set up in front of it. The auction wasn’t going to begin for another half hour, plenty of time to glance over a few stands. 

Zenith led the way pausing a few times to look at creatures or blades that caught his interest. Anytime Zenith inspected a creature in a cage, Hudson would pretend he couldn’t hear their thoughts. Couldn’t hear them hoping to be bought or the opposite, hoping that they wouldn’t. But then Zenith would move on and Hudson could truly push it out of his mind. 

As Zenith was talking to a stand worker selling different types of poisons, Hudson let his gaze wander. His eye caught on a small stand behind them with a small creature working furiously. They were molding molten metal with their bare hands, not a burn showing up on their skin. Hudson was fascinated, watching as they shaped it as they liked, then dropped it in a bucket of water. The hot metal instantly sizzled, cooling down before the creature pulled it out again. They examined it for imperfections before placing it on a table near them with nearly identical blades made. 

As Hudson continued to watch, he observed the creature more closely then he did its work. They were small and frail, their bones barely covered by a layer of skin and muscle. Bruises and unhealed cuts littered their body, making it evident that either they disobeyed often or their owner was unnecessarily cruel. They were muzzled with a silver cage that left red marks on their skin from how tight it was. Its ears were flat against their head, tail tucked between their legs, showing every sign of fear except in their hands. A silver collar was strapped around its throat that chained them to the stand, leaving no room for escape. 

“Do you want to look at that one?” Zenith asked. Hudson looked at Zenith and followed his gaze to the same stand he was previously looking at. Hudson gave a simple nod, so Zenith led the way over. 

Being closer to the creature, he expected to pick up on thoughts of fear, but he didn’t. Instead its mind was quiet with the thought of working. He couldn't even tell if the creature knew that they had walked up. Moving his attention away from the creature, he noticed all the finished blades laid out on the table. They were beautiful. All handcrafted and fused with some kind of pretty rock or gem. 

“Like what you see?” 

Even though Hudson knew the man wasn’t addressing him, he looked up anyways. He was rugged and mean looking, a stark comparison to the skittish creature off to his side. Zenith continued to admire the blades before responding. 

“Are all of these your handiwork?” Zenith asked. 

“Yes sir. Everyone of them,” the man said, clearly taking ownership of the creature's labor. 

Zenith picked one off of the table and examined it closely. It was made of iron and infused with amethyst. It was certainly a blade made for display and not meant to be used in combat. Nonetheless it was still impressive. Zenith handed it to the man's outstretched hands, intending to buy it. The man grabbed the creature, making them drop the metal they were modeling onto the ground, and dragged them in front of himself. The creature cowered in his grip but didn’t struggle. The man straightened their arm and brought the blade down from their elbow to its wrist. The creature hissed in pain and sank to their knees when the man let go of it, holding their arm close. The blade slightly glowed from the blood dripping from it, before it evaporated like it never had been there. 

Hudson was barely able to contain his astonishment while Zenith acted indifferent. Zenith took the blade with grace then walked away with Hudson at his tail. Hudson glanced over his shoulder and saw the man yelling at the creature to get back to work. Hudson turned his attention to what was in front of him. It wouldn’t do him any good to get attached. That was the mantra that he repeated over and over in his head. 

…

Kori was relieved when the blade-maker took off his collar and threw him into his cage underneath the table. He shrank away from the silver bars that lined the cage, careful not to burn himself. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he looked for his only possession. A measly blanket, dark blue with a yellow star pattern overlapping it. It was stiff and soiled with blood and god knows what else. But no matter how much it needed a wash, it was his. He had stolen it the first time the blade-maker brought him to the medics, and too tired from wrangling him there, the blade-maker let him keep it. 

The blanket was almost three times his size, though he was a small creature compared to most. Nonetheless, it made it easy to hide underneath. His shield against the world, against his makeshift darkness. Kori curled up underneath his blanket, making sure to not leave any limbs sticking out. 

A table cloth covered the table and most of his cage, blocking most of Kori’s view of the passerbys. He watched their feet walk past, never pausing to come close enough. It was cold, a lot colder than Kori was used to. It didn’t help that the blade-maker often isolated him away from any kind of fire or sunlight, giving him no opportunity to build up his magma. Kori knew better than to steal heat from the hot metal so he could heal his wounds. He had done it once and when the blade-maker found out, he beat Kori till he could hardly make sense of the world. He was immediately sent to the medics afterwards, but it was a lesson well learned. 

Kori wanted to go home, wherever that was. He was never allowed out except to the marketplace or to the medics. Otherwise, he was underground shaping and fusing blades. It was better than anticipating when a buyer would walk up and he would have to spill blood to seal the blade. The cut down his arm stung painfully, making him aware of it again. 

Focusing on one part of his pain only made the rest seem so much worse. He closed his eyes and pressed his head against the cool steel plating of his cage. Despite himself, he felt himself getting tired. His eyes heavy and breathing evenly, he hoped that when he woke up that he would be back in his basement bedroom. 

…

Zenith found a spot in the front row of chairs, giving him an excellent view of the stage. His guard dog sat in the seat next to him, though he figured Hudson wouldn’t be paying attention to the show. Zenith didn’t really care if he did. He eyed the stage, watching as workers of the event raced back and forth to get last minute preparations in place. Shortly after, a finely dressed man came on stage. The man picked up a microphone and began speaking to his audience. 

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our monthly creature auction. We have over 30 creatures to display and auction off today, so be ready to bid. After all creatures have been displayed, speak to one of the staff and they will help sort out transactions. If any assistance is needed to transport your new pets, please speak to a courier outside. We will begin the show shortly.”

There was a small round of applause as the man left the stage. Zenith had already scouted out the creatures he wanted, most of them being breeds he had already worked with. A few of his clients were already looking for more pets when his stock was low. As soon as he could get ownership of a few creatures, he was going to send them to all his available personal trainers. By the next auction, he should have all these ones sold and waiting to buy the next batch. 

Though there was one creature that would be displayed that he had an extra keen eye on. He had been observing Hudson’s behavior for the past few months, and deduced that he was experiencing loneliness. Zenith already had another pet for Hudson to mingle with, though Hudson wasn’t one to be very social with others. He had tried spending more time with Hudson beyond his working hours, but it made little to no difference. So he decided he was going to get Hudson a companion, one he could truly bond with. Zenith was already wanting a third pet anyways, so it was practically hitting two birds with one stone. 

Zenith had allowed Hudson to examine the creatures on sale at the market before the auction to get an idea of what he wanted. Thankfully, Hudson found something. A small creature, one that looked like a fox. Its blade making skills and fire wielding abilities were definitely something that intrigued the both of them. Zenith figured he would have to retrain the fox given the conditioning it must have gone through. He thought about retraining the fox with Hudson, it could bring them closer together. It was certainly an idea to think about. 

Zenith brought his attention back to the stage when two workers pulled a cage into view. The announcer from before took his place on the stage. He took hold of the corner of the cloth that covered the cage before swiftly pulling it off. Inside was a standard Tursian, most likely already trained as a guard dog. It was tied down in a stress position to best display it while keeping it still. Zenith vaguely remembered Hudson being displayed the same way when he had bought him. 

The auction passed by as fast as it could for any bored onlookers. After buying a few creatures, Zenith reserved his attention for keeping a look out for the fox. Otherwise, he was thinking of who to contact for its first medical checkup. Zenith always benchmarked where his pets' health was when he first got them, if only so he could get an idea of what he was working with. Finally, as if watching a prized possession being passed around, Zenith eyed the last cage to be rolled on stage. The announcer picked up his mic and began to speak to the audience.

“This is the last creature on display for tonight's auction, I repeat, last creature on display.”

The announcer then quickly pulled off the cloth, revealing the little fox inside. It was on its knees with a collar tightly wrapped around its throat, a chain attached to it, tying it to the floor of the cage. Its hands were cuffed to its ankles, keeping the fox in place. Its tail was tucked underneath it, keeping it close to its body like its ears flat against its head. Zenith watched as its chest heaved with fear, barely able to voice a whimper with the muzzle clamped around its jaw. 

After a couple minutes of letting the audience observe what it was buying, the bidding began. Zenith quickly jumped in, not wanting anyone else to get a lead on him. Little by little he bought out his competitors, until no one else dared name a price higher than his. The auctioneer called it at forty-two thousand, naming Zenith the buyer. He grinned with glee, a rare sight to most.

The workers of the event cleared the stage and Zenith stood to leave. Hudson followed him as he made his way to a nearby staff member. They scanned his buyer’s ID and brought him to the back to let him have a closer look at what he bought. One by one, he was brought to each of their cages. He would sign all the necessary paperwork, write a check, then tell a moving staff where his trucks would be parked. When they reached the cage the fox was in, the staff member handed him a booklet. 

“What is this?” He asked. 

“It’s an infographic of this particular species. It is not one we commonly auction off, so health, safety, and training guidelines are different then what you might be used to,” the staff member informed. 

Zenith briefly flipped through the booklet. “A lynx?” he asked aloud, reading the title of the booklet. 

“Yes sir. They’re from the saturnine desert. They seem to act similar to foxes, if that gives you an idea of what to expect.” Zenith chuckled to himself at the thought that he wasn’t that far off for assuming the lynx was a fox. 

Zenith held out his hand for the clipboard to sign the paperwork needed. The staff member handed it over and he signed the pages quickly. He quickly wrote out a check for forty-two thousand dollars and handed both over to the staff member. 

“Would you like it to be placed with your other purchases?” The staff member asked, taking the items from Zenith. 

“Actually I have a kennel in my carriage I would like it placed in. Easier for transporting into the house,” Zenith mused. 

“Of course,” the staff member mimicked Zenith's tone. “Would sedating the creature be of help to you?” 

“What kinds of sedatives do you have?” 

“We have a wide range, from muscle relaxers to serums that’ll keep your pet out for days.” Zenith imagined he could hear the fox whimpering. 

“I think something that’ll keep it out till tomorrow morning will do.”

“Of course. We’ll have a courier bring your pet to your carriage, and a technician will meet you out there to administer the sedative. Sounds good?”

Zenith nodded and the staff member snapped at a courier nearby to get their attention. The courier came near and listened to the instructions the staff member gave them. They then followed Zenith out to his carriage, bringing the lynx with them. The technician met them there as the courier was unlatching the top off of the cage. The lynx struggled away from the technician as much as it could in the chains. In the end it was futile, as the technician stuck them in the neck with a needle. 

The technician capped the used needle and gave the lynx a small pet. “See? Wasn’t so bad,” they chirped. “Now you’ll get to sleep easy on your ride home.” The technician turned to Zenith, speaking to him in a normal voice. “Have a good evening sir, safe travels.” 

The technician left, and the courier followed shortly after once they had unchained the lynx. The lynx shrank into the corners of the cage, trying to fight against the sedatives. Zenith knelt down by the cage and offered his hand for it to sniff. The lynx tried to focus its eyes on him, daring not to move closer. Zenith gently pet the spot behind its ears, gently guiding the lynx to close its eyes. Once he was sure that the lynx was under, Zenith stood up and bent over the cage to pick it up. He noticed there was a blanket scrunched up underneath it, something hidden from his earlier view. He picked both of them up, realizing how disgusting the blanket was. He put it on his to-do list to wash it. 

Zenith waited patiently as Hudson opened the door of the carriage. He balanced the lynx carefully in his arms as he climbed up the steps, Hudson following in after him. They sat down on opposite sides, with Hudson sitting next to a kennel that Zenith had brought. He had intended to put whatever his new found pet was in it, but while cradling the lynx close, Zenith almost couldn’t bear letting it go. Then he heard his phone ring. Zenith grumbled and despite him trying to shift the lynx over, he couldn’t hold it and its blanket while trying to manage a phone call.

“Could you hold it for me?” Zenith asked Hudson, offering the lynx to him. Hudson quietly took it into his arms, wrapping the blanket around the lynx and holding it close. Zenith pulled out his annoying phone and answered the call.

As the other person talked, he looked outside the window and watched as the world passed by. In the corner of his eye, he watched as Hudson looked at the lynx with a new found sense of love. It was a look Zenith had never seen on him, and one that looked quite well on his dog. Zenith smiled to himself as he turned to look back at the window, glad of his brilliant idea to get a third pet. 

Thank you!!