Survival In The Black

Let us learn our lessons. … Never believe any war will be smooth and easy or that anyone who embarks on that strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter. The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events… incompetent or arrogant commanders, untrustworthy allies, hostile neutrals, malignant fortune, ugly surprise, awful miscalculations. - Winston Churchill Bel stood in Sea’s office, her arms crossed as she looked at her sister. She was sitting behind the desk, reading over something on the cortex. Her usual zen calm even calming the usually fiery medic. She had called Bel up there on a professional capacity and since it rarely if ever happened, Bel was curious to know what happened. Maybe they know about Miley… maybe someone was looking for him? She had told Sea everything about the man and Sea had promised to let her know if word got ba...

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.” - Neil Gaiman Bel typed into the computer next to her, the instrument a bit ...

I'm selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control, and at times hard to handle, but if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best. ~ Marilyn Monroe Bel wiped her brow, not noticing the smear of blood that followed it as she looked down at the wounded man. She recognized him. The man who sold her a teapot off the back of his ship. The kind old man with grey eyes and a laugh that made her mood instantly brighten just at the sound of it. He always had a joke and a limerick to try out on the bonny doctor that would buy the little trinkets. She didn’t know if he knew she only bought the useless trinkets to help him and his family. But she would like to think he did. The wound was severe but not one that was life threatening, Bel cut the stitch and carefully wrapped a bandage around his stomach before nodding to the volunteers to carry him to the other side of Fook’s. She could hear the screams and ravages ...