The chanting grows louder and louder, but you can’t make it out. You hear the American soldiers screaming, hearing distinctly: “hold your fire”.
“Sounds like an angry mob doesn’t want their oil stolen.” Rick begins “I’m getting nothing from Billie Madison, so now what?”
“Well, where did we park, we can just walk right?” You say to Rick as Nikita stares off into the distance, observing the chaos going on at the gate
“Well General? What plan do ya have?” Rick asks
“They’re chanting death to America.” Nikita answers after a brief pause
“And?”
“They’re storming the embassy.”
“Is that good?” You ask, worried
“To be determined. We need to get over there though. There’s one way in and out, unless-“
“Sewers are too risky. We can just wait for them to break in and then wade through the crowd.” Rick says
“That’s as dumb if not-“ Nikita begins but gets stopped by Rick putting up his finger and turning to pick up his phone to take a call
“Yeah, hello.” Rick begins “yeah… well I can fucking see that… yeah we did… are you fucking kidding me, of course someone died- no, no, wait- listen, none of us died- none of- MOTHER FUCKER LET ME FUCKING SPEAK! Fuck!… we are all fine, but… we killed- yeah… no… well yes actually… no, or should- no… yeah just whenever you can- well no rush, we just have an angry mob of Iraqis waiting to fucking kill us so- yeah… probably not… just whenever you can” Rick finishes and puts his phone away

“good news guys!” Rick begins “my bank says I am eligible for a home equity loan!” Rick announces
“You were talking to your bank?” You ask, confused
“No, Sa-dumb-ass, it was Adam, the madam, Sandler. He’s coming over soon and says to run if they get through the gates cause the mob is armed and so are the guards.”
“Oh great.” You say, before hearing an explosion and gunfire in the direction of the gate. Everyone stares over there, with Nikita in front. Suddenly you see her ears rotate to your left, while her head tilts to a 45° angle. Puzzled, you look off to the side and see nothing. As you look, you’re grabbed by Rick and thrown to the ground as flashes of light show on the opposing wall. You slam into the ground as bullets wiz by your head and Nikita begins firing at the wall.

You quickly recover, getting up and sprint behind a building for cover, as Rick follows suit. Nikita screams something in Russian at you and begins frantically motioning towards the main gate, causing you and Rick to take off in that direction. You look back only once as you make a mad dash across the embassy, occasionally seeing bullets hit the wall next to you. You see Nikita has also begun taking after you. You get to the main gate, moments before an angry mob breaks the lines of soldiers holding them back with tables and chairs as impromptu barricades and shields. Rocks are hurled by the crowd and what seems to be tear gas is hurled back. You see Rick look at you and back into the raging crowd, beckoning you towards him with his finger. You see the tip of his head bobbing through the crowd, but quickly lose it as you begin to wade into it as well. You begin making your way through the sea of angry Iraqis, who are almost oblivious to you, only getting a few odd glances, and one man joyously clapping upon seeing you. You push and push through the crowd, sort of able to see the way out ahead of you, but mostly being blocked by the hands and weapons of the mob, held over head to present them to the American soldiers. You keep making it to the gate, having to squeeze the hardest to get out of there, finding the pressure of the mob pushing in, to be almost too much to resist against. You narrowly manage to clear the gap, having an instant decrease in pressure, and begin calling out for Rick, for Adam, for anyone, seeing no one, and only seeing more and more Iraqis. You continue fighting the crowd, then find something has grabbed your leg. You try shaking it off, thinking you got stuck, but look down and see hands, tiny hands on your ankle. You reach down and grab them. Pulling them up and finding a kid attached to them. He’s a malnourished little boy, clinging to you for dear life, seemingly trampled by the crowd. You peel him off your leg and try to talk to him, trying to get him to stand, but to no avail. The fuck is an immobile kid doing here?

You lift up the child, who clings to your side in fear, then try to push your way to the path of least resistance in order to get the child away from the mob. You push, trying to safeguard the child with your wings, while taking unintentional knocks and blows from the mob, not directed at you but simultaneously not caring they hit you. You push for around five minutes before suddenly getting caught in the current and shoved out to the side. You fall out of the mob, landing on your back as to shelter the child. You begin looking around at the mob, seeing it surge around the entrance, only a mere 20 feet away. It felt like you were wading through rapids, but now you’re free, sort of. You’re on the river side, somewhat blocked in by another building along the river. You begin looking around, and find a few people trying to treat wounded Iraqis, either from gas related injuries, bullets, crushing, etc. just a couple men and women, covered in blood, tending to others lying on the ground, writhing in pain. You approach them, trying to get the kid help, but immediately they see you and back up to the walls, screaming about gin or something. You try to speak, but they don’t know English and you don’t know Iraqi. You then, in a last ditch effort, just hold out the child to them. This gets them to quiet, and after a few moments, one of the women medic people approaches you and hesitantly grabs the child, then backs off. You don’t really know how to act about this, so you smile and give her a thumbs up, and she cracks a nervous smile and holds up a shaky thumbs up. You think all is good now. Killed one person, saved another, you got balanced karma or something now. Still lost and need to get home, but can’t see the way out of this shoulder to the people flood. As you look around, you notice the chanting has gotten softer and more out of synch, like the lead is no longer projecting their will at the mob. You look back at the medics, seeing all but the woman are giving you occasional glances of fear, disgust, mistrust.

Are you getting racially profiled? Discriminated against for something you can’t really control? Well, you get poverty shamed all the time, but that’s different. This is some new bullshit. How the fuck is a straight white male gonna get looked at like this? Maybe cause you’re not any of those anymore. Damn. It’s one thing to look at yourself this way, but others… this hurts, hurts like a mother fucker. Who are they to judge you like this? You just pulled a kid out of probable death and they look at you like a monster. That’s fucked. They’re fucked! Fuck these people, fuck this country! You want out of this bitch, this sandy shithole of racists, terrorists, jerks. You do need help though, you’re lost, can’t really go back into the endless river of folks, they’re just too much to go against right now. You gotta ask for directions.

“Hey!” You call over to the medic racists, and they all look at you with varied expressions “me!” You say, pointing to your chest “needs to go out of here.” You say, pointing out towards the other side of the river, not of people, but of water “understand?” You finish and the Iraqis stare at you some more “me go bridge?” You say, with some more exaggerated hand signals, pointing at the bridge that is unaccessible because of the mob. Again, no replies “God damn it!” You mutter, kicking a stone into the river, and then seeing it get carried in the wrong direction. So fuck, both ways are gonna be a bitch.

do you try to wade through the Tigris to get back on course or wade through the mob. The mob is definitely more violent, and stronger to fight against, but it will eventually have an end. That river will not, and there may be like crocodiles or something.

PAGEBREAK

There is a finite number of angry Iraqis and there is not a finite number of gallons of water in the river, so, you decide to go through the mob. You wave goodbye to the people, and they either don’t notice or don’t reciprocate. A wave goodbye is universal right? Like, there’s not some different meaning in Iraq? Maybe there is and you just threatened to eat their mother. Maybe that’s why they look at you with fear and disgust. Regardless you begin pushing into the crowd again. You don’t know how long this takes but the mob is definitely thinned and far less aggressive, with many seeming to catch a glimpse of you and either backing away or staring in confusion. The first is more rude but you prefer it cause it makes the treck easier. The new journey is easier to fight against, with the chants and yelling being softer, less organized, and drowned out by screams and gunshots from within the compound. It’s a shitshow and you don’t know if it’s your fault or if you’re just lucky you got in before this. Or unlucky. Maybe not, the mob coulda stolen the absolite. Of course that was why you came, but was it worth it. Yeah. It fucking was. Being short sucked. Wings are cool too. It was a good decision.

Eventually you begin to see more and more thinning, but feel a weird sensation as your right horn gets grabbed and yanked out of the crowd. You nearly fall as you’re removed from the torrent and raise your fists to square up with what ever jabroni just grabbed you. Quickly you simmer down, seeing as it’s Lucifer, looking you up and down with eyes full of surprise and a mouth ajar in a smile.
“Oh, it’s just you.” You say
“Damn bro, you’re fucking majestic.” Lucifer says with a chuckle
“And not tiny anymore.”
“Man… you are really pretty. Do those wings work? Can I touch them?”
“They do, and you can, but be gentle cause I don’t know their fragility.” You say, to which Lucifer begins stroking your wings in a sort of trance. “Do you know where the others are?”
“Hm?”
“The others? Have you seen anyone else? Nikita, Rick? Those guys.”
“Oh no” Lucifer replies “I uh- I actually kinda lost Adam and Peters in the mob, and like- well the thing is the mob just kinda went around the car- not like going around it, they circled us, and-“
“Is everyone ok?”
“I don’t know, I got separated and stuck into the mob cause, like I’m not gonna run down a hundred people cause they got around our car, even if they’re mad, and they should be cause we- the US government and Bush and Cheney and those guys like murdered a million Iraqis for non existent weapons of mass destruction and-“
“Lucifer!”
“Sorry. Yeah, we got outa the crowd and I got pushed around till I found this little outlet, cause the bridge is blocked by people. So basically you’re the first person I found, and I’m really glad it’s you, I just saw like a horn and prayed for the Queen and here you are.”

“So…”
“Yeah, I got nothing. Anyways, dude, love the new fit, that uniform gives you some mad machismo. Very manly, Claire is gonna love that-“
“Lucifer, as much as I enjoy your commentary, we need to fucking leave and I don’t know how. Do you have any ideas?”
“We can probably cut across the mob and find another bridge up river cause the mob has engulfed the close one. The car is completely abandoned and we can just go back to the inn.”
“Is everyone else clear with the plan?”
“Idk about you guys but we know. And Adam is gonna or has called Rick. Nikita is a resourceful girl, she can find her way back.”
“Probably.” You say, then take a look around at the pocket you’re resting in. There’s no medics here, it’s much smaller and has a single tree but not much else. “Ok. Let’s get moving then.” You say, grabbing Lucifer’s hand and pulling him? Her? Them into the mob. Lucifer stays close to you, practically pressing up to your backside and acting as extra weight to push through the crowd. You do so for about ten minutes, heading North West, making it through the mob. The pushing suddenly gets stifled as you enter an area of different direction. There’s a sudden stop to where people are pushing to the side of the current or just completely stopped all together. You notice this and begin making your way through the crowd. Maybe you reached the end?

You manage to break through into a large clearing, with soldiers. Not American soldiers. There’s many Iranians helping direct people and aiding a few medics to help hundreds of wounded. The people are yelling at them but tone is odd, and you can’t really read the crowd. As you look around, you’re bumped by a few men carrying a bloody guy to the side of the clearing that is full of bodies on cots and medics. There’s a plethora of pain and suffering all around you. You’re suddenly yanked back into the crowd, causing you to look back and see Lucifer yanking you, with a look of total fear. Like they’d just seen a ghost. You don’t question it and get back to pushing along for about five minutes. You look back briefly while doing this, seeing if guns were pointed at you, and just see their officer, an old guy with a gray beard, gray short hair, and big black bushy eyebrows, meanmugging you. No one else sees you and you see his eyes follow you as you move. He has that same dorky hat the other guy at Samara had.

Disregarding that, you continue to push against the mob until it gets really thin, like really thin and then eventually just ends with a bunch of Iraqis pacing around looking worried. They seem indifferent to your existence, with some looking, sometimes staring, but then going back to their daily business. That’s odd, why aren’t these guys scared.
“Queen!” Lucifer yells
“Yeah?” You reply, looking around to see what they were pointing out, but you see nothing at all “what is it?”
“Queen, did you see him?”
“See who?”
“The guy in the clearing?”
“I just saw their officer. I think he saw us, was he pointing a gun at us or something?”
“Queen. Do you know who that was?” Lucifer asks, with a look of primordial fear on their face
“No?”
“That’s fucking Qasem Solemani!”
“Who’s that?”
“Some Iranian general guy, I don’t know, like a war criminal but that’s not the important part.”
“Then what is?”
“He’s been dead for fucking months dude!”
“He has?”
“President Trump blew him him the fuck up just after new years. Dude, he’s a fucking ghost or something.”
“Then… maybe that’s why everyone was looking at me like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m in Saddam’s clothes.”
“I-“ Lucifer begins and then starts looking you over, quickly getting less panicked “no beret?”
“Didn’t work with the horns.”
“Hah, and nice sword too.”
“Yeah. We kinda killed someone with it.”
“Dude. You’re fucking sick man. I wish the guys I’ve dated were like you.”

“Rick not good enough?” You say, beginning to walk more west along the river, looking for the next bridge
“He’s… listen, I’m like in a relationship, I’m not dating Rick or anything, I’m just… I know everyone looks at me like I’m some sort of dumb whore” Lucifer mutters, grabbing at the back of their neck and looking towards the ground “but I’m just… look, I did this sort of out of the idea that this was fantasy and- I thought it was a dream ok.” they say, looking at you and moving their arms around a lot as they speak “Like I’m allowed to have weird sexual fantasies and… I realized later that it wasn’t when I saw the look in everyone’s faces when spear mint got…”

“Yeah… I kinda realized fast, just looking at Claire. I still hope this is a dream, but I know it’s not.”
“Yeah. I’m not a whore, I just- I don’t know what to do, ok? I’m already sort of stuck with Rick, and- dude, fuck this guy man. He’s such a narcissistic asshole. Like everything he says is to do like some pseudo persona of himself and I just fucking hate him.”
“Listen if you need to leave or think he might-“
“Let me make this clear, I’m not afraid of him, he’s just some closeted yuppie, but God do I fucking hate rich know it alls. He’s annoying is all.”
“Yeah. Listen, if things get bad you can take Maria’s house. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Or honestly just go into Nikita’s box, there’s a literal city in there, it’s crazy.”
“Thanks, but I’m probably gonna pass. I’m a college student and that shits expensive. Rick also isn’t the worst rich guy I’ve seen, and I could probably make him my sugar daddy or something. Also, I don’t want to ruin any relationships here. I don’t know how going back would be, considering my boyfriend isn’t the most tolerant person.”

“In what way?”
“He was kinda raised homophobic and I doubt we’ll stay together if I just show back up with a cock… and as a furry.”
“So are walking animal people just common now?”
“It’s complicated. There’s a disease that makes people furries, called the furry virus. I know, creative, but regardless it exists and it’s not something like a cold.”
“Well yeah, but why?”
“It’s the way it spreads, through fluids like blood, spit, and most commonly, sexual ones.”
“So it’s like aids.”
“Yeah, exactly like aids. And the people who get it are looked at either with fear or weird sexual desire. Look, you can get it by like sharing a straw with a friend who hasn’t had effects manifest just yet, and it’s not as likely that way, but there’s a big chance you kind of get mind wiped. There’s like many degrees of it and it’s scary. It really is. I had a friend who had it, and they’re just gone, completely. He had a family who loved him, he was going places, but someone spat on him at school and it just progressed and he got worse every day. He was just losing himself, his parents got scared and threw him out, and he just changed. He’s different now. He went from living in quarantine with his girlfriend to in a gay relationship with another furry. He used to be like so strong, so smart, but he’s just kind of a dumb twinky cat right now.”

“Still friends with him?”
“Yeah. I promised his sister I’d keep an eye on him, and don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy his company, but he’s different now. Like he died and we replaced him in our friend group. Everyone looks at him weird when we look back at the past. He acknowledges this, knows he wasn’t always himself and has some memories of who he was, but he’s like an outsider almost. We have to do everything separate like he’s radioactive. It’s just fucked dude. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be looked at like that, and with this group here, I’m not.”

“Damn… what do you think would happen to you if you stayed like this?”
“I don’t know. My boyfriend would leave me, at best, at worst… my friends may or may not kick me out, parents would shun me, might get removed from Uni, wouldn’t have as good of jobs, probably never get anywhere… I need Rick so I can be ok in the end.”
“Damn… I hope things turn out better for you than you’re expecting”.
“Don’t we all. And if you think it’s bad for me, imagine what it’s gonna be like for Peters. Ending up as a fox girl lost in a hostile foreign nation. Can you imagine that?”
“No. Poor guy. I hope he just shows up one day at Claire and I’s doorstep.”
“That would be funny… Anyways, I think I see the bridge.” Lucifer announces, pointing up ahead at a four lane road bridge.”
“Me too.”
“Want to talk about anything else? Preferably something less depressing?”
“Sure. What are you going by now that you got an involuntary sex change, like me?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m ok with whatever, at least until my body feels less alien.”
“Fair enough.” You say, crossing the bridge. You don’t talk about much else on your way to the inn, and when you get there, you find only Nikita, soaking wet, and very annoyed.

“Hey Nikita, how’s it going?” You ask
“A genocidal dead man is leading the Iranian forces in Iraq. We have a big fucking issue.” Nikita says
“You saw Solemani?” Lucifer asks
“Yep.”
“Us too.”
“Yeaaaah. We probably just met our next boss fight.”
“You’re probably right.” You say with a sigh. The fighting never seems to end here.