+rep nice profile😉

^_^

+rep gg

+rep ЁБНУТЫЙ

@skilar because i'm not racist

why are you friends with imnotracist?

hello mate, can you send me friend request? I have something for you

sup bro, lets play together, send me a friend request pls

hi! I added you to discuss a trade :)

Added to discuss a potential trade.

Hey adding for trade :)

added to discuss

-rep stole my pocket medic

+rep good man to have a rancho relaxo by

added for trade sir

added to talk :)

ZA WARUDO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Best girl 10/10

<3<3<3<3<3 Tohru is bestest girl <3<3<3<3

You'll probably delete this without reading it, but I hope you don't. Getting that angry isn't healthy for anyone. I was never sarcastic with you, I sincerely wished you a good day, meant every compliment and wanted to apologize for unintentionally upsetting you. There's no shame in being upset with someone, you don't need to save face with me, if that's what you were doing.

Whether you were trolling or not, I'd rather make you laugh at me than take the chance that you have a disorder similar to my own.

Please, for your own health, you don't need that much anger. I'm not worth it, nobody is worth being that angry at.

+rep good trade

Sent a trade offer for one of your Heavy taunts :)

An hour well spent

10/10 story

it only took an hour or so

You have too much free time

Jesus 130 new comments

He programs the Keywork into the All Mother’s navigation system and she questions him, asking if maybe he’s requesting the wrong coordinates. He assures her that the destination is not a mistake. He is ready to return. She is unsure what is driving him there again, considering she operates entirely on rational decisions and revisiting a place that nearly killed him doesn’t seem like a very sound choice to make.

“Sirius, is this what love is?” she questions.

He answers, “Yes.”

Sirius knows from witnessing it firsthand that the Keywork holds the secret to the afterlife. Meri’s soul must be there and he’s going to locate her, to help her transcend to the Samaritaine, the Utopia he knows exists beyond. He was wrong about his last voyage – it was not the greatest journey of his life. It was just the beginning.

Sirius reconnects to the All Mother mainframe, her programming upgraded and implanted inside the mobile suit. This ship – he calls it Saudade – is far more advanced than the last he guided into the reaches beyond Heaven’s Fence, acquired through a generous grant meant to continue his exploration of the Keywork. Sirius gladly accepted the funding, but with very different intentions as to how he will use it. He cannot divulge why he is going – after all, no one within Heaven’s Fence knows about the truth of the Keywork. Now, he has abandoned all his previous motivations, to focus on a new one entirely: Sirius will return to the Keywork to give his wife what he couldn’t in life.

“I am coming back to you, Meri. I can’t change the past, but I can give you something better. I can give you everything.”

He doesn’t have to say anything as Colten stands – lack of sleep and emotional devastation creating the illusion he is far older than he is – and says, “You had a million chances to play the hero for her, but you made your choice and hers too. You left that woman in the dark and came back like you could just turn the light on? If you loved her, you would’ve stayed up there, Sirius. You would have let her go.”

Colten shakes his head, walking off the porch into the downpour, leaving Sirius to shout out into the rain, “I’m sorry!”

He repeats the phrase over and over, crumbling down into himself on the welcome mat, his keys still in the door.

Sirius can’t find a single reply for a query that has so many answers: Because I shouldn’t have gone without her. Because I wanted redemption. Because I wanted to come home. Because emotions were high and I lost control of the vehicle. Because the transport we collided with was so much bigger. Because your unborn child was too fragile and Meri’s heart was too weak and sometimes medicine fails us... and I’m perpetually failing.

Because you’re a better man than I could hope to be.

The officer watches the ground as Sirius walks toward the porch, avoiding eye contact, seeming to work at avoiding any interaction altogether. Sirius puts the key in the door, half of him wondering if he can get inside without any confrontation, the other half hoping the man opens fire, raining down a barrage of punishment for all Sirius has taken from him. He receives neither. Only one word: “Why,” Colten breathes, the utterance less a question than a judgment.

As he hobbles toward the front porch of the modest home he shared with Meri, his legs relying on two custom-fitted steel extensions to do the work as they heal, he feels something is not right. A man he’s never seen before is there, sitting on the floor, his head tilted back against the wall of the house. At the sound of Sirius’ footsteps, the man straightens, looking up with red, swollen eyes. His brain functioning slower than usual, Sirius catches a glimpse of the badge and instantly wonders if this police officer has come with even more bad news. His hair stands on end as he realizes who the man is. Colten.

Without warning, a storm begins to roll in just as Sirius arrives home carrying nothing but the clothes he and Meri had been wearing before the crash. He refused to let the hospital dispose of them. Scientists have a hard time throwing things away, thoroughly documenting all research so that it can never be lost. The bits of cloth left from the accident are empirical evidence of the last time his world would make sense.

As a scientist, he chose to research ideas no one else believed in, thinking that he must be the only man who truly understood the universe at work. Looking back, he’s suddenly aware that he picked those topics because they were areas where he didn’t have to rely on anyone else. He could remain in his own isolated brain without having to answer to other opinions or hypotheses. This character flaw eventually reared its head in his personal life, too, causing him to push people away without knowing it. He kept Meri at arm’s length – not intentionally – but because it’s the only way he’s ever known.

On the long ride home, Sirius thinks about a small plaque that sits on Allen Linkev’s desk, spelling out words of wisdom he often hears his mentor repeat: No man is an island.

“Mr. Amory,” he’d begin, his tiny eyebrows joining forces with the deep crinkle in his forehead, “We are not made to go through existence entirely on our own. By joining our lives with others, only then can we become strong continents.” It would not occur to Sirius until now that Linkev had been cautioning him specifically. Sirius had tried to remain an island his entire life.

He had been stubborn, maybe even cruel in his departure from her, when she'd only wanted to love and keep him safe. He thought he'd feel fulfilled journeying into the Keywork; that he'd finally do something outstanding by discovering what no one had been able to see. Instead, he realizes that none of the things he's accomplished matter as much to him as Meri.

Now, like some universal attempt at irony, she has left for the Keywork without him. Only she won't be coming back.

Sirius' thoughts turn to regret for moments in their life together where his obstinacy got in the way of letting him show his real feelings for Meri. When she confessed on the drive, just before the crash, that she had found someone who not only put her first, but had given her the child she always wanted, Sirius was furious. Not at Meri... not even at Colten. He was angry with himself for not being the man to give her those things.

He watches out the window in the backseat. The day is beautiful, calm, clear. The indigo blaze of the Keywork seems warmer than usual, as if it were burning a little brighter now that it is home to the light of his life. The birds are singing. Sirius thinks to himself that this is the exact type of day Meri would have enjoyed and the realization that she is gone and not coming back punches him straight in the chest again. He thinks he may be sick and rolls down the window. He considers throwing himself from the moving vehicle, but he can't be moved to care about anything enough at this point to take action. This is a pain he can't medicate and a phenomenon he can't research his way out of. He's devastated.

Sirius is released from the hospital two weeks later. A car is hired to bring him home as he's refused rides from everyone he knows. He does not want to see his friends or family, he doesn't want to talk to anyone. He needs this time alone to reflect on the devastating loss of his wife and the sequence of events leading up to it.

Through the afterglow enveloping her, Meri watches as Sirius closes his eyes and disappears; the landscape reworking itself into an intricate labyrinth, massive doors opened in front of her. She, like those before her, will traverse this place indefinitely, into the world of the unknown, until the new becomes the monochromatic plane where wayward souls reside before they transcend... if they ever do.

With certainty and contentment she looks ahead, taking the first step into the maze.

Away we go.

But rather than words, a warm glow begins to emit from Sirius' mouth, as if he's breathing light around her, surrounding and comforting her. Now the waves have stopped where they rise, flattening out into a vastness that could go on forever, familiar likenesses and places developing in the transparency of the liquid.

But, not now. Now is pure magic for a girl and a young scientist finding out for the first time that not everything can be explained away with a little logic.

Finally, she sees him. He is love personified. There are no awkward words exchanged. There are no words at all yet, but an embrace held long enough to convey the feelings of two people glad to see each other, happy to no longer be apart. In this case, people who have been kept apart their entire lives and are only now realizing how much they've missed the other. "It's nice to see you again, Sirius," she says. The boy opens his mouth to agree. Meri knows what he will say. She's thought of this moment over and over for the better half of her adult life.

He sees her first. From then on, he'd constantly remind her that's how it happened. "I watched you come over that little wooden dock and we may as well have walked down the aisle then and there," he'd say. Eventually she would grow to question whether he'd changed his mind.

Then Meri is at the beach and she has definitely been here. Planet Hetricus. The Jersey City dunes. She's much younger and she's walking to meet a boy she's only met once before. Her pulse quickens, anticipating the encounter as she moves toward a rickety dock, completely overdressed for the midday heat. She can hear the trapped drum of her heart amidst the crash and slush of the waves. It's as if she might reach out and touch all the possibilities, all the promise this moment holds.

Slowly, swirling in like a plastic bag caught up in a gust of wind, a sphere of light approaches, rings of color radiating and growing until the center is stretched so far it opens wide, leaving a hole of nothingness there. From the void, a small balcony draws out like an ellipse, a living gateway appearing there; a cloak extending forth a transparent figure from within that beckons to her, guides her. Meri continues to move down the path presented by the figure, knowing exactly where to go, despite never having been here before... she feels at ease... she's going home...

For Meri Amory, this moment occurs from a gurney, where Dr. Straight and his team of specialists are doing everything they can to pull her from the grip of death. To her, the doctors are faceless white apparitions moving around a room that has metamorphosed into a collage of landscapes, events and ruminations. She views the space around her with newborn eyes. She is walking across a bridge, high above the trees. There are elaborate gazebos with pillars and columns hidden within them. She walks without a purpose, breathing in air so pure she believes she must be the first person to ever have breathed it.

There are the things we cannot remember consciously and the things we spend a lifetime trying to forget. In our final moments, perhaps it's as if the container is suddenly shaken up, taking all of our individual reveries and forcing them together, until what we believed to only make sense as separate, compartmentalized thoughts now seem incredibly clear as a single, fluid experience.

Many believe that just before you die, as the body flips between unconsciousness and cognizance, there is a profound experience. It can be described like oil and vinegar, or oil and vinegar and a million other ingredients, standing perfectly well on their own, each able to hold up their structure despite coexisting in one container together. If the body is like a container, the ingredients are ideas, abstractions like dreams, schemas of the afterlife, memories from the best and worst days we lived, repetition that has engrained itself into our perception; shapes, sequences, feelings, choices, jingles we learned in school to memorize something important.