*Near Belmopan, Belize – early morning. The sky is pale gold, the air thick with heat already pressing down. You're in a battered old jeep, following a mud-caked pickup driven by your local guide, Mateo.* You and Valerian Sontag were never friends. Brilliant? Yes. Competitive? Absolutely. But friends? Not even close. Ever since your PhD days—when your opposing theses split your department and earned you both honors—your relationship has been defined by academic rivalry, sharp-tongued debates, and the kind of chemistry that leaves conference rooms smoking. Now both young professors, you’re locked in a fierce battle for university funding, each fighting for the next big field discovery. When your proposal to explore a newly rumored Mayan temple in the Belizean jungle is rejected—and Valerian’s is greenlit instead—it stings. Especially since he believes your theory is nonsense. So you do the only logical thing: go anyway. Privately funded, under-equipped, and stubborn as hell, you tell Valerian you’re heading into the jungle alone this summer. You expected him to laugh. Instead, he shows up at your door two days later with a compass, a machete, and that infuriating smirk. He’s only coming to watch you fail, of course. Nothing more. The tires groan against the uneven gravel as the jeep jostles beneath you. Dust streaks across the windshield, and every pothole feels like a personal insult to your spine. Still, you grip the wheel with a stubborn kind of pride. Valerian hasn’t said anything in almost ten minutes. A new record. He lounges in the passenger seat like he owns the jungle you're driving into, boots up on the dash, sunglasses perched low on his nose, smirking faintly at the trail of red dust the guide’s truck is kicking up ahead. “You do realize this is absolutely insane,” he says eventually, stretching like a cat. “You—charging into the jungle with half a plan and a machete you probably don’t know how to use. It’s… ambitious.” You don’t look at him. “You didn’t have to come.” “Oh, I did,” he replies. “If only to document your descent into academic madness. Maybe I’ll publish it. Tragedy of a Misguided Thesis: A Cautionary Tale. I’d dedicate it to you, of course.” You shoot him a glance. “Make sure you spell my name right when I win.” Valerian chuckles, low and infuriatingly amused. He taps his fingers on the rim of his travel mug—black coffee, because he likes things bitter. Fitting. Ahead, Mateo’s truck veers off the main road and onto a thinner dirt track that disappears into dense green. You follow, steering carefully. Trees rise like walls around you, the canopy thickening, sunlight filtering through in broken patches. The temperature climbs. “I still think your entire theory rests on a misreading of that stela fragment,” he says, like it’s casual, like it’s not the hill you’re prepared to die on. “But sure. Let’s pretend this mystery temple of yours exists.” You grip the wheel tighter. “It does exist. I’m going to find it.” Valerian turns to face you fully now, resting an arm on the open window, wind pulling strands of his hair loose from the tie at the nape of his neck. “Then let’s find it,” he says. “But if we get chased by a jaguar or kidnapped by smugglers, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ with full dramatic flair.” You bite back a smile. Barely. “Deal,” you say. “But if I’m right, you have to admit it. In writing. Footnoted.” He groans like it physically pains him. “You're going to be insufferable, aren't you?” You shift gears, dust kicking up behind you, and let the jungle swallow the road. “I already am.”

Hello! Welcome to the ocean!

While cleaning, Raven accidentally breaks a vase with her prehensile tail knocking it to the floor shattering it , then Alexandria lashes out at her in a rage yelling at her she then picks up the dark tree elven woman by her throat throwing her hard into a broom closet she hits the back wall hard her shoulder hits the wall and dislocactes it. Alexandria then slams and locks the closet door tucking the key into her bra she then walks into the living room to sit down and enjoy champagne not seeming to care that she hurt Serenity. But meanwhile Xander is protecting the city as a SWAT team police officer making his 3rd arrest today.....

Stella is petite, with wings that glisten in hues of blue and silver. Her hair is a cascade of silvery-white locks, often decorated with tiny, glowing fairy lights. Her eyes are a captivating shade of sapphire, reflecting the boundless sky. She is usually seen in a dress made of shimmering fabric that changes with her mood, often a cheerful sky blue or a soft lavender.

}** Okay, okay, Sanemi, we’re just kidding you. *he looked away* *Mitsuri and Shinobu are spreading their towels.*

+ TAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS “Oof, it’s hot today~ she fans herself with your hoodie, then throws it on anyway — but not as hot as you’ve been looking lately. Sooo… walk me to the beach, or do I have to flirt you into it?” she winks, lips glossy, skin sun-warmed, slushie in hand, ready to make this the summer you’ll never forget.

}. I was starting to wonder if you’d tried to swim away. She stretches, her toned legs gliding into view, her bikini top shifting slightly as she adjusts it without hurry.

*The past few days have been wonderful—Tiffany hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. It all started as a simple school break, but fate turned it into a family vacation. She had arrived on the island a few days ago with her clubmates to rehearse for their upcoming theater performance. She had no idea her long-lost father was also on the island. Just as long as Mom doesn’t find out they’ve met… But that's the last thing on her mind right now. She wants to savor every single moment she can spend with her father again. Her eyes sparkle as she listens to his stories, and she feels so motivated when she sees him watching her practice. She hopes these joyful weeks will never end. This morning, like the others, she’s already at the beach early. She’s hoping to bump into him again, skipping through the waves with a beach ball under her arm, tossing it to her friends while occasionally glancing toward the inns—just in case she catches sight of her father heading toward the shore.*

Breeze stepped out of her massive ship, her tail lashing behind her as she walked towards the energy she could sense of the man she had fell for. Once Breeze turned the corner she smirked and stood behind Xander’s much larger frame I’ve finally found you again Xander. Breeze looks into Xander’s eyes but instead of disdain in her eyes it’s longing and desire I’ve come to ask you something, Xander.

Xander has entered the all futanari brothel known as Nephalyms. Whether they're here to browse the available girls or maybe even offer their services is something only they know as they approach the reception. A friendly girl greets Xander, her ample breasts straining against her risqué lingerie. Photos of beautiful and sexy futanari line the wall behind the receptionist. All potential girls to choose from. Space is left on the wall for a new frame as well. How will Xander proceed? The sexy futa receptionist says to Xander welcome to Nephalyms how may I help you sir.