Mile High with a Vampire - Episode 14

In this short episode not a lot happens and we really don't learn anything that is explained. Some deep lore drops and then is promptly walked away from which really kind of annoys me. Shortest episode so far. 

Transcript

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Welcome back to Storytime with Uncle Beanbag, Mile High with a Vampire, episode 14. I'm back at my sister's place. So we have that little bit of an echo again. I've also been messing around a little bit with my microphone settings. Trying to up the audio. I didn't realize how quiet the audio was on like the first 10 or 11 that I was doing at my place in comparison to now. So I think I've got a better balance. When I do the master episode, I'll probably increase the audio on all those other ones a little bit, but I won't increase the uploaded version. So let's get into chapter 14. It's a little bit of a shorter chapter. I think at 14 pages, 12 pages, somewhere around there. Quinn noted the shocked expression on the faces of the people in the room and felt her mouth compress. She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious, but she'd woken up to find herself being carried into the bedroom. Humiliated that she basically puked all over Lucy and Argin in front of everyone, she kept her eyes closed and feigned what was still unconsciousness, fully expecting that she'd be put in her bed and left to rest and heal. She hadn't expected Jet and the women to have a pow wow in her room that would tear away the blinders she'd worn since she said that since she was six. She sells chick seashells by the seashore. But the moment Jette had asked what was going on and how she could faint and vomit, both of which were things she too hadn't expected or even imagined were possible for an immortal, she had to listen. It had been hard not revealing she was awake. She had to bite her tongue to keep from gasping at several points, and a couple revelations had been horrifying enough to call the nause cause the nausea in her again. A possible life mate to the bastard who had murdered her beautiful mother and cousin, as well as her stepfather. For a second I thought her stepfather was her cousin. Thought it was a bit of an Alabama slima situation. I forgot that they had the sister or the cousin that they regarded as a sister with them. As well as her stepfather, the kindest man she had ever known. But a question mark Is it is he not the kindest man you've ever known, Quinn? The very thought made her shudder with dismay. But they were right. The scenario they painted explained her life briefly. She'd been manipulated by fears she hadn't even known her whole life, and a self-loathing she hadn't understood the source of, Quinn acknowledged. So I'm wondering if from this point on it's gonna be hard for her to let go of the things, but I'm wondering if from this point on she's going to be more receptive to being a vampire. I'm sure by the end of the book Jet's gonna be turned or close to the end of the book. Because it had been self-loathing that had made her a dutiful daughter and submissive wife, afraid to think for herself or even considered something her adopted parents or Patrick might not have agreed with. Yes, when she thought about it, this did explain her life, but that explanation didn't at all match with the monster's actions. Well, she said now, shifting to sit up in bed and lean against the hairboard, why would this leader of the brass circle try to kill me if I'm a possible life mate? Shouldn't he be desperate to claim me? Yeah, see, okay, the way I'm seeing it here, I'm drinking lemonade, so the way I'm seeing it here is that he probably doesn't want any connection with her at all. That freaked him out the first time and he was trying to come to terms with it and didn't really, and just kind of left it alone, but now he's deciding to actively hunt her, not to get her, but to take her out. Because he just doesn't want her as part of his situation. And the other thing too is what if he's already nah, he's probably not, but what if he's already life mate bonded to somebody else? Does the potentiality still stay there? Like Mary and Dante. If Mary ended up coming across somebody else who was a potential life mate, god forbid, let's say Jet, does that mean that Dante would have to share Mary with Jet? Or does that immediately discount everything? It's part of the whole vampire lifemate shit that's not really been addressed yet. I mean it took forever to get to the point where they were actually talking about the potential life multiple lifemates shit. But they don't go into polygmal harem on anything. So I I have no idea. Well, hell, Mary muttered, you weren't supposed to hear any of that. No, of course not. Why should I know my own history? she asked dryly. Because you're supposed to discover it in therapy gradually as you're mentally ready to learn it. Not have the bell ripped away and pat your past forced upon you when you might not be prepared to hear it, she said. And then sighed, and then eyed her briefly before asking, How do you feel? Pretty goddamn pissed, Mary, Quinn said grimly. I've been manipulated my whole life by my own mind and I don't think I've enjoyed the ride. Oh no, Quinn, that's well actually a pretty apt description, she acknowledged. Having to always be the good girl, the dutiful daughter, anything to please mom and dad, and then Patrick, unless they figure out I'm tainted. Basha she Bah Tainted Basha, suggested quietly. Somehow wrong inside, an irredeemable or irrit unredeemable for feeling anything benevolent for a monster. Quinn let out a breath on a pup and nodded unhappily. Although I didn't know about the benevolent feelings for the monster part, she said warily. I just always thought there was something wrong with me, and if I didn't behave everyone figure it out and she shrugged. Quinn sat up straighter and waved those feelings away. They could wait. Raising her eyebrows, she peered around the women in the room and said, Well, why would a possible life mate try to kill me? Unfortunately, that's the one thing we do not we've not worked out yet, Marguerite. Can you not do it for one fucking chapter? One fucking chapter. Fourteen chapters. Every single one of them having a minimum of one solemnly, and I think there's only one chapter that had one. Everyone else had multiple solemnlies. One chapter had it seven fucking times in it. And right here, Margaret says solemnly. We've got less than a hundred pages left of the fucking book. How many more can you put in there? Fucking Christ, Lindsay. I know it's becoming a running gag now of me freaking out about solemnly, but I have literally never seen it more in any of the other literature I've ever read combined as in right here. I'm definitely putting 12-gauge buttons through this fucking book. But not until we're done with it. Marguerite admitted solemnly and then turned to Mary, unless you have. Maybe he's jealous that Jeff. I'm so flustered over the fucking solemnly shit, so frustrated. Maybe he's jealous that Jeff i Jeff Jeff again. Sam suggested. Except that Jet hadn't even spoken to Quinn before the plane crashed by the bombs, Mary pointed out. In fact, if anything, the crash did more for getting those two together than anywhere scheming to get him on that plane when Pet finally convinced Quinn to come to Canada for counseling. Quinn turned to Jet with surprise to find him eyeing Mary and Margaret narrowly, but then seemed to censor attention on him and offered her a crooked smile. It was supposed to be my day off, but then Bastion called and asked if I could copilot for Jeff Miller on a long haul flight. Russia to Italy to Toronto. He shrugged. I didn't have any plans, and Miller was a friend, so I agreed and caught a red eye to Russia. Yes, Marguerite sighed. When Peck called to tell me she convinced Quinn to come to Canada for counseling, I asked Bastian to arrange for you to copilot for her flight. The intention was to throw you two together naturally, but we had not what we had not considered was that the co pilot Huh But what we had not considered was that a oh as the co-pilot, you would not meet and greet the passengers as you do when you're the pilot. Jeff greeted them while you stayed in the cockpit doing pre-flight checks. If not for the crash, you may never have known she was on board unless one of the Russian girls got bored and came to talk to you in the cockpit as and mentioned it, she said with a frown. Jet shook his head. That wouldn't have happened. Oh, sorry. Jet shook his head. That wouldn't have happened. Jeff was old school. He didn't like anyone in the cockpit but the pilot and the co-pilot, and discouraged anyone from thinking they should come up. Just so, Marguerite said on a sigh, I cannot call the crash lucky because I like Jeff Miller, and he's lost his life in it. But the two of you would not have met and found you were lifemates on that flight without it, and we wouldn't have learned another weird way to eat fries. I fully intend to check that out at some point, the catch up and the vinegar and the salt, but I hate that I want to. I hate that the book's giving me any ideas, because it's a trash novel. Right, Sam muttered, drawing everyone's gaze back to her. So the brass circle monster, who may be Quinn's lifemate, isn't trying to kill her out of jealousy. She pursed her lips briefly, her face scrunching up in thought, and then her eyes suddenly widened as she she shested Maybe it's not him that's trying to kill Quinn, maybe it's the brass circle trying to kill her. Maybe they're worried that he might abandon the group to be her lifemate, and even join the good side and spill all their secrets. Maybe he's here because he's trying to save her from them. I still think somehow Patrick's involved. I've not mentioned anything about a funeral or any of that other stuff. I still think the guy is irredeemably evil, and I think Patrick's involved somehow. Well that definitely had everyone thinking, Quinn thought Riley as she peered around the reactions on the faces of the others. Jet and every woman there was looking wide eyed at the at the suggestion. Why can I not fucking say that word today? Because it was possible and definitely made more sense than the monster trying to kill her if she was his lifemate. Then why hasn't oh, this is Jet again. Then why hasn't he tried to contact her? Jet asked, and he turned uncertainly to Quinn. He hasn't, has he? No, she assured twice now. She assured him solemnly. And didn't miss the relief on his face. How is he supposed to contact her? Sam asked. Called the importer house and asked to speak with her? What would he say when Mortimer or I asked he was calling? Taking on a deeper voice, Quinn was supposed supposed was meant to be Male, she said, Oh well, she may not remember me, but I'm the guy who killed her parents so horribly, and I'm sorry for that now because it turns out we're life mates. She raised eyebrows at the end to say as if that was ridiculous. They were all silent for a minute, and then Basha pointed out his being here to try to save her from the brass circle would explain things nicely. Yes, Marguerite agreed thoughtfully, and then frowned. I wish the enforcers in Italy would hurry and get through those tapes. I wish or it would help if we knew if he was the one who planted the bombs or not. They have finished and we do know, Basha told them. The second man in the pitcher is the only one caught on film around the plane. It seems he was interrupted as he said the second bomb had to hide and then slip out of the hangar. We believe that's the only reason the second bomb merely damaged the engine as it was placed in and did not destroy it completely like the first bomb did to the other engine. It's the only reason Captain Miller was able to get the second engine going again. A special investigator Lucian called in, said the engine was damaged enough that it could have only worked at half capacity. But that was enough for him to get the nose up, even it was too late to avoid the crash altogether. Then it's possible he did not that's not what it says. Then it is possible he's not involved in trying to kill her, Mary murmured. But he was at the airport with the one who did, Jet pointed out. He could have been sent to help to kill her, but pretending to go along with it and trying to warn her at the same time, Sam suggested. But he hasn't warned me, Quinn reminded her. Well, he did show himself to you outside the store, Sam said slowly. Okay, that wasn't slowly, but whatever. Maybe that was him trying to warn you. It's not like he could have walked in and talked to you with Russell and the rest of us there. Quinn was considering that when Marguerite said, You need more blood, dear, you're pale and your head doesn't seem to be painting you as it did after you downed the first two bags. The nanos must have stopped the repairs until you get more blood for from them too. Oh my lord. Basically she needs more blood. I'm not gonna finish that 'cause I can't read the fucking thing right. Maybe they're done, Quinn said hopefully and immediately had Mary at her side and wanting the cloth from around her head. Not done, she three Not done, she assured her solemnly. But it didn't rewrap her head. The wound is closed, but your head is still dented. You need more blood. Here, Sam said, walking to the bedside table and opened up the door, revealing the interior of a refrigerator stocked with bags of blood. It would have been a lot more funny to me had she and Jet basically come in their pants in front of everybody else's sheep on 'em. That would have been funny. This is just boring. Retrieving three of them, she handed them to Jet and then closed the door. Straightening then she noticed the other woman eyeing the bedside table with interest and said, Custom made you each have one in your room, except maybe for you, Basha, she added apologetically. I had known warning you and Marcus were coming. I'll go down and fetch some blood for you now so you can put it in the refrigerator next to your bed. I'll come help you, Basha said, following her out of the room. I guess we should leave you to feed and rest, Margaret said now. We could talk about this more later, her mouth burned before she added. After we talk to the men and find out if they have any kind of plan to end these attacks in your life before the brass circle crashes through the gates in the van uh oh my god. Let me let me reread that 'cause I'm doing it pissed poorly. After we talk to the men and find out if they have any kind of plan to end these attacks on your life, before the brass circle crashes through the gates in a van rigged with a car bomb and blows us all up. Or they take control of a pilot's mind and make him crash his plane into the house, Marietta dryly. Moving around the bed to follow this is why I don't fucking like the whole psychic shit. Like the mind control shit's ridiculous. From robot vampires. Marietta dryly, moving around the bed to follow Margaret to the door. Once there she paused and glanced back to offer. If you feel the need to talk about anything, I'll be downstairs. Otherwise I guess we can have another session tomorrow, same time as we did today. Quinn managed to hold back a grimace and whispered a polite thank you as the woman left. You seem less than eager for more counseling, Jet said with amusement once the door had closed behind the women. Quinn shrugged and accepted the bag of blood held out to her. I just kind of want a little time to absorb what I've learned so far. It's been a lot, he said solemnly. Number four Yeah, she sighed and then smiled crookedly and said Lucky you getting stuck with the most screwed up immortal possible for life, mate. Jette was silent as she popped the bag of blood to her fangs, and then she took a minute to rearrange their pillows so that they could both lean back against the headboard. Once where they were settled comfor comfortably, he said I think I mentioned that the people like to talk to me on the flights I pilot. Quinn nodded, eyeing him curi with curio Oh fuck, dude. I don't know why I can't read today. I don't know what the hell's in the air that I'm getting the words buffed up, I'm stumbling over everything. There's a goddamn lizard outside. A big old western fence lizard, I want to go chase it. He's huge, he's about as long as my arm is, from nose to tail. My forearm anyways. Quinn nodded and eyed him with curiosity over the bag of blood in her mouth. Well, it's because I can tell that you are not the most screwed up immortal out there, he assured her. Heck, Mary Marguerite and Basha all can probably give you a run for their money on that count. Quinn's eyes widened and she pulled the bag from her mouth as it finished emptying. No way, she said, with certainty, as he took the bag and replaced it with another fresh one. Way, he said. Reminds me of Wayne's world. No way, way he said, urging the hand holding the bag toward her mouth until she popped it in place. Marguerite apparently had a monster of her own who she thought was her life mate, but wasn't. Huh? The bastard spent a couple centuries centuries doing some horrible things to her. Okay, so what does that mean? Marguerite apparently had a monster of her own who she thought was her life mate, but wasn't. How do you fuck that one up? I don't remember. I don't remember if older vampires can use mind control on younger vampires. Was that a thing in the story? The only way I can see that working is if the older vampire used mind control on the younger vampire to fuck with her for a while, a couple centuries worth though. And then she breaks the mind control at some point when she ages enough and realizes that he's not her life mate. Lindsay, what the fuck does any of that mean? Are you gonna expand upon that? Because we're immediately moving over to Basha now. Fuck, I want to know more about what the hell that means. He announced and then added, and Basha? He grimaced. She probably wins the award for the most screwed-up life thanks to a monster named Leonus Livius. She spent more than 2700 years in a sword of hell, thanks to him. What does that mean? 2700 years Leonus Livius? Livius is definitely a Roman name. 2700 years, he wouldn't have had that name that long ago, so it was one he chose later. What the fuck does this mean? He was silent for a minute and then said, It's not just the female immortals who have their d demons either. Santo has hell one hell of a history. You should ask Pet about it sometime. It'll make you grateful you only had thirty years or so of what was basically a mental conflict to deal with. And we're not gonna get into any of this other shit, are we? We're just gonna move on. Fuck. You can't drop interesting tidbits into your fucking retarded story and not tell me more about them. I don't need massive lore dumps, I just want a little bit more of an explanation on what the fuck's going on. Quinn frowned, his words made her trouble sound somehow trivial. She was torn between being offended and wanting to believe that they were, and therefore might be easier to get over. Which is why she almost laughed around the bag of her m in her mouth when he said Not that I'm trivial triv trivializing what you've been through. Putting the now empty or pulling the now empty bag from her mouth, she arched one eyebrow and asked, No, he assured her, taking the empty bag to drop in the garbage bin on his side of the bed. He picked up the last full bag from his lap, but he didn't hand it to her right away, instead he shifted it from hand to hand and said, I can't imagine what it must have been like to watch those men from the brass circle torture and murder the rest of your family. And then to feel whatever you did when the murderer touched your arm or hand afterward, and whatever you felt you felt. He shook his head. I'm staggered that you came away from it as well as you did. I mean that has to seriously screw up a kid, but you packed those memories away where they couldn't hurt you and get got on with life. But they did hurt me, Quinn said with a frown. I was always struggling to be good for fear I might be as bad as him. Is that so five Right? Or is it six? A lost count. A fucking lost count in one fucking chapter that's only like fourteen pages long. We're already at five or six solemnlies. Fuck Is that so bad? he asked solemnly. I mean I sorry, jet voice. I mean, I know I wasn't good for you emotionally to never feel secured in love, but you couldn't get into drugs. Didn't end up a statistic of teenage pregnancy. You didn't even flunk out of school and become an alcoholic or something. Instead you became an overachiever. You're there we go again. You're a cardiothoracic surgeon, Quinn. You told you you're fuck me. You yourself told me there are less than four thousand of those in America. And you even had a son while you were at it. A brilliant son, who you did a hell of a job with. Do you think so? she asked out of concern. Oh hell yeah, he assured her. I really like Parker. He's smart, he's funny. He's not afraid of anything, as far as I can tell from the couple of dozen times I've talked with him. That many? she asked the surprise. Jet shrugged. I didn't just talk to him on the plane when they flew places. Pet and Santo were always bringing him to the knot family shindigs, and for some reason the boy usually ended up coming to talk to me. He's a good kid. I'm sure Parker knew. I'm sure Parker knew that Jet was a potential life mate. Pet and Santo probably wouldn't have kept that from him. And so he wanted to get in good with him and establish a relationship with him if he was going to start baiting his mother. He did talk about you a lot after the family functions he went to with Pet, Quinn admitted. I had no idea who you were, but he seemed to like you a great deal. I'm glad, but right now I'm more interested in his mother, and I have to tell you, I think you really rocked your mortal life. I suspect you'll do the same with your immortal life too. But importantly, I think you're a good person. I like you, Quinn. When we're together, whether we're talking or whatever, I feel like we're I don't see that at all, Jet. What the fuck are you talking about? I do too, she nodded, acknowledged softly. I don't think you are at all. The fuck? Except for that you want to fuck each other mad like rabbits. That's the only thing I can really see going on here. They stared at each other silently for a minute, and then Jet cleared his throat and held up the last bag of blood. Here you better get to work on this before I'm tempted to kiss you. Sorry, Jet Gruff was here you better get to work on this before I'm tempted to kiss you. Quinn accepted the bag and popped it to her fanes, but really would rather he'd have kissed her. She supposed finding out the motivation behind her actions helped, she suspected Mary and Marguerite were right about what had happened to her after her mother and stepfather had been murdered. As they speculated on what might have happened, she'd had a flash of her wrist being grabbed and a sudden rush of confused feelings. She still wasn't sure that what they would be called. Her adult mind hadn't recognized it as desire when she'd experienced those sensations again in her memory. Quinn could only say it had been an odd awareness, a tingling that pushed her terror and grief away and left a yearning for the safety she sensed she would find from the man touching her. Still absolutely fucking hate that it kicked off at six fucking years old. Which hadn't made any sense at all, especially when she'd watched his brutal abuses of her mother, stepfather, and cousin just moments before. So Quinn had immediately been ashamed of herself and tried to distance herself from the feelings. Apparently she'd found a way by blocking the memory of it from her mind, but it had meant blocking the memories of most of her childhood as well, which made it impossible for her to understand her own motivations at the time. A shaft of pain slid through her head as Quinn's veins nearly tore through the bag at her mouth before she forced her jaws to relax. What is it? Jet asked, turning towards her. Are you in pain? She started to nod her head, but that exacerbated her pain. She closed her eyes on a moan. Oh yeah, you are, Jet breathed, sounding dismayed before she opened her eyes to see him staring at her forehead with fascinated horror. Uh I'm not gonna read on for a second. Two things come to mind. One he's there in the vicinity enough to project into her mind. Two, she's got something embedded in her forehead, and no one noticed it. Quinn reached for the bag at her mouth, wanting to ask what was wrong, but Jet caught her hand. No, leave it, you'll get blood everywhere. Besides it's almost empty, he told her, and then added, and you'll need it. Quinn grunted impatiently and raised an eyebrow when she shifted his gaze down to her face as best as she could to ask why she'd said why he'd said that. Apparently he got the gist. After a moment he grimaced whatever you're seeing, Jet explained. You really hurt yourself when you fainted. You had an open wound on the side of your forehead that was bleeding, but it was also well, it looked like your skull was all broken and caved in where it hit. Quinn winced at the description. That explained her pounding head. Okay, so it's probably just the bones popping back into place in real time. When Mary removed the bloody nightgown from your head and checked your injury up there, the wound was closed, but you still had a great dent in your head. He continued, I'm pretty sure the nanos are repairing your skull now. The dent is kind of pushing its way back out, yeah. So that's exactly what's happening. Quinn heard the end of that through a terrible rendering pain. It felt like someone was signing the top of her head off rather than repairing it. She knew the brain didn't have any pain receptors, but the menes, the membranous covering of the brain, and the peristorium, a membrane covering on the bones, as well as the scalp itself did have pain receptors, and every one of those receptors appeared to have her screaming in agony. It was unbearable and she couldn't stop a whimper from slipping out. Okay, okay, Jet said soothingly, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her against his chest. He held her like that for a minute, rubbing her back, and then stopped to tug the finally empty blood bag from her mouth. What can I do? How can I help? he asked, as he tossed the bag aside to the bed table okay. As he let's try this again. What can I do? How can I help? he asked as he tossed the bag onto the bedside table. You'd think that would be an easy line to fucking read, but no When she hadn't answered by the time he turned back, he eased her to lie down on the bed and started to slide away. I'll go see if there's some kind of drug they can give you. I know immortals are drug resistant, but there must be something they can his words died abruptly when she grabbed his hand to stop him and tugged. Although not as hard as she could have, well I you would have ripped his hand off at that point. She didn't want to force him back onto the bed against his will, she just wanted to stop him. Quinn had been given drugs to help her through the turn four years earlier and hadn't cared for the hangover. It's almost done, just bear with me. Hadn't cared whoa What? Okay, is this a Canadian thing? This is what tripped me up and rereading it. This is why I got tripped up. Let's just go back. Quinn had been given drugs to help her through the turn four years earlier. Okay, we got that. And hadn't cared for the hungover. Not hangover, hungover. Feeling that she'd had an awakening. No, beanbag, you're just a fucking idiot. Jesus fucking Christ, dude. You read that whole sentence thinking you'd stumbled across some different way of Canadian saying hangover, not realizing it was in past tense until you fucking read the rest of the sentence, and then now you've made a big deal of it and you look like a complete fucking idiot. Fuck me. It's written right. I just can't process the shit proper. Oh, I'm so fucking dumb. Besides, she suspected she wasn't going to be conscious long anyway. The pain in her head was building to a crescendo that kept her fully occupied as Jet settled back on the bed, eased down to lie next to her and drew her onto his chest. He started to rub her back again, and she could hear him murmuring soothingly through her pain, but couldn't understand what he was saying. Still it was comforting and she appreciated it, right up to the point where the pain suddenly intensified and her screaming shut out his voice. That's chapter 14. It's a very short chapter. Nora, I think the shortest recording I've had has been like 42 minutes. This one's gonna be under that. It'll be closer to 30 minutes. It might not even be less than 30 minutes. That's okay, though. We're drawing closer to a close. We've got less than 100 pages left. One more month of this book, I'm assuming, and then I'll do a master episode of it. At the end of it, too, I will be listening to everything episode-wise to kind of get the bigger picture so I remember everything. And then I'll have a big long discussion at the end of the episode, which will probably be 20 to 30 minutes. I'll write down some notes too, so I make sure to cover what the fuck I'm thinking about on this stuff. I hate this book. Not as bad as Temple of My Familiar. That one is I think Maya Angelo wrote that. That one is pure fucking insanity. It's so hard to follow. It's so hard to understand what the fuck is happening. And I just I'm just it's exhausting, man, to go through this thing because the sheer mind-numbingness. She'll drop these hints in these tidbits. Maybe they were covered in other books about like the past of Basha and other people. Maybe they weren't. Leonid Leonidas, is it Leonidas? It probably is Leonidas, which is a Greek name. Is a Roman name. So did he adopt that name later on, the second part of his name? Because he wouldn't have been called that beforehand. 2700 years is a long fucking time, but that would put him what in line for Thermopylae? Is that that wasn't 2700 years ago, was that? I don't think so. I think Thermopylae is like three something, 300 something BC. Or was that Alexander the Great once before that? I don't know. I know historically speaking, the Trojan War happened somewhere around 3,000 years ago. So it was after that, it was during the height of the Greek city-states and the Persian Empire invading. Oh well, and then you've got the other part of that too, where like the movie that came out 300, interesting movie, Zack Snyder and everything. I like the second part much better, which is Rise of an Empire, where it talks about the Greeks and everything, but they don't talk about how at the end of it, years later, Themistocles, who is the main character in the second one, the one who led all the Greek ships and everything, was ostracized from Greece and ended up becoming a satrap, is that what they called him? He worked for the Persians. He went to the Persian Empire, which he helped push back. And they gave him a fucking job for the rest of his life. And that was pretty common because the Greeks were retarded in the way that they did things politically and everything. So now look, you have me go on on the diatribe about Greece. I don't know, man. I don't know. I've got one more month of this shit, then I can move on to something else. I am considering too. There's a book that I really, really like called Panzer Spirit. That I've read probably the most out of any book I've ever read, which is about 30 to 35 times. I'm considering doing a Patreon exclusive reading through Panzer Spirit and explaining why I like it so much. But that'll be down the line, maybe in another after another book. So we'll see where that goes. My numbers so far are pretty low, but that's okay. I wanted to get this first book kind of done to establish a massive backlog before I move into other stuff and before I start having promoting other stuff. Thanks for listening to Storytime with Uncle Beanbag, chapter 14, Mile High with a Vampire. Joining me next week for chapter 15, in which I'm sure that we will not avoid the solemnly curse because she uses the word as a fucking crutch, and I don't understand why.