Before we start, you should just know that I’m full of it. It began as sadness, shock, and horror and then morphed into something sharper. Keener. More fury-like.
I am trying, best as I can, to channel that rage into something useful. I’ve decided the first step of that is a donation plan. I’ve always supported women’s health organizations, but now I aim to choose a few key places to make monthly donations so that my support is regular and ongoing.
Over the next few weeks, as I research places and form my plan, I’ll share links in case you’d like to donate too. I’ll likely share other things as I think about them, but for now that is where we will start.
If you read this blog and you’re not full of rage (how did you get here?), just know that I support abortion access and bodily autonomy unequivocally. No debate. Cannot be swayed. Cannot be tested.
And now I return you to your regularly scheduled Simlit reading.
CW: Strong language, adult situations, violence, gore, and Penny Pizzazz in a bustier.
San Myshuno, Fashion District
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Penny growled as soon as she opened the door.
“Taking you to dinner.”
“Lunch, then,” Anastasia rolled her eyes. “You’re grouchy, and you need to eat. Put on something glamorous and come enjoy an expensive steak.”
“The magazine won’t spring for steak,” Penny argued, a sharp breath slipping out when Anastasia pressed her back against the door.
“Then it’s a good thing that this is a date, and they don’t have to pay for it.” She inhaled deeply. If Penny smelled this good, what would she taste like?
“W-what about Jimena?”
“Who?” Anastasia focused on the small dip in Penny’s bottom lip. She wanted to run her tongue over it, tug at it with her teeth. She’d had plenty of lovers over the centuries—queens, actresses, and at least one Sage. But there was something about Penny that—
“Jimena. Your fucking girlfriend!”
Oh. Anastasia peeked up warily from her spot on the floor. Honestly, she’d forgotten the yoga instructor even existed.
“How did I…what did I…do?” Penny stared down at her hands in horror.
Truthfully? Snap three of Anastasia’s ribs, which given her earlier activities, was downright irritating. Mending bones was such an occult-forsaken ordeal. “I realize you’re pissed, but an almost-werew—”
Penny let out a panicked breath.
—Wolf. The rest of the word sat lodged in Anastasia’s throat. Hauling herself up and ignoring the blatant agony as the bones began to knit back together, she turned and winked. “Clumsy, clumsy me. Have it your way, then. Lunch as friends. Now, will I be forced to wait in your hallway again? You can’t let me in, you know; I don’t bite.”
Elmyra’s Boxing Gym
“What in the heck is going on?”
Bella’s demand knocked Caleb out of his stupor. He spotted the acolytes powering up from out of the corner of his eye. “No!”
“Step aside, young Vatore,” they intoned simultaneously, “The rules are as written. No mortal who has witnessed—”
“No!” he shouted again. He couldn’t let them wipe Bella’s mind. Her life would be undone. Like a walking nightmare where she had no idea how she’d gotten here or who anyone was. “She already knows about us,” he pleaded.
The sisters continued casting as if he hadn’t spoken. “Step aside, Caleb. The rules are—”
“She’s family,” Caleb insisted, seizing on a loophole. He positioned himself so that he was standing in front of her. “Bella is the mortal family member of a supernatural unit, and we are working on this investigation together.”
“Caleb,” Akira’s voice was a warning.
One that Caleb didn’t heed. “Stand down, sisters.”
They pulled back their power, but Caleb didn’t relax his posture for even a second. He was under no illusions about how quickly they could swipe him aside. He might land on his feet, whip around, and tear out their throats while they were distracted, but that would be winning the battle and losing the war.
Eyes glowing, Bobbie fixed him with a look. “Careful young Vatore; your family is growing ever larger by the minute.”
And with that, the sisters were gone.