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“It’s spectacular, isn’t it?”

Two time tempered men brought their own home-made coffee, tea, and biscuits to their get together on the 51st floor of the Queen Latifah, the tallest building in Charlotte-topia, previously known as the Bank of America Corporate Center.

They’re meeting up for another leisurely chess match and gossip between them, ready to enjoy the view on this clear, sunny winter day.
Outside the panoramia sized window by their table, a few families of cardinals, some with miniature surveillance camera vests, are playfully flitting about in the air.

Since the Esprit De Corps civil war broke out and poked the hornet’s nest in 2025 they’ve been in the fray; meeting on and off in-between non-stop missions and tragedies.

Salvatore “Sammy the Bull” Gravano, an 81 yr old gaunt framed italiano mafioso, has a raspy, gravelly voice.
A legit cappola cap keeps his bald head warm, and he sports large vintage-hue reading glasses over a clean shaven and weathered face. 
Tattoos cover his arm sleeves.

He sets up the board on the table between them, while the other gentleman places his sealed tin of biscuits aside and pours boiling water into a tea cup.

David “Klong Prem” McMillan, a 70 yr old draculian heroin smuggler, author, and keen social critic, looms in his seat.
McMillan keeps it classical yet spicy with his cologne and drip, wearing a turtle neck and aviator jacket to compliment his sulken no nonsense face, lanky silhouette, and slicked back white hair.

He has a collected, defiantly pompous, british-australian narrator way of speaking, “As i’ve been flying about lately on my usual rounds, i think to myself, over and over again, the same mantra that got me here to begin with; that a society becomes great, when old folks plant the trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in…   
So dear friend, i have a personal catch-22 of sorts i wish to share with you, and can’t possibly think of a better animal to prod it with.  Are you open to it?”

Gravano smirks and asks, “another one eh?  Alright, we got this bro, spit it out, what’s it this time?”

McMillan presents slowly, while carefully tea-bagging the ripples between the liquid and steam, “As fate would have it, there’s now countless tree-hugging hippies with guns running about, and it appears I found myself under a magnificent shade that came much sooner than expected…      …nothing wrong with that.  In fact, i wouldn’t have it any other way of course…   but, alas, when i joined, I had firmly subscribed to a likely scenario, a very possible illusion; that I would defy death until eventually lady luck would run out; and i’d get blown out of the sky in any instant…    it would’ve been quick.  Painless, and my last snapshot in this Kodak of life would’ve been on my own terms; a proper bang; a righteous fk y’all exclamation mark of adieu if you can imagine…”   McMillan looks up in quick inspiration to sideways disappointment   “…but now that going down in a fire-blaze of dramatic cliche glory is unlikely, when will this fighting spirit finally let my body rest, as if to say, and i quote; that’ll do pig, that’ll do.”

Gravano, ever stunned and used to poetic conflict, grins at this shared problem and takes another micro sip of ultra-hot coffee from his thermos.

“Retire…”  Gravano takes a deep breath, feeling his chest for a moment before deflating back,   “…That’s a fkn dilemma alright.  Either expire by way of a fire-flash or die of dehydration from one too many dusty farts, you can’t have it both ways…     …just like you, I came here for redemption.  Now i’m all burnt out from it, so I must have done something right, right?” 

Gravano lets out a few short, elbow-muffled coughs, and is dazed a short moment before returning to topic, “Get this count-chocula.  Just yesterday i threw in the towel, for real this time you know, and i’m okay with that…     …you know why?  because my crew are awesome people doing good things.  I learned from the best and now these strategies in taking down these psychotic mix-prison cults out there lives on and evolves through ’em, answering prayers everywhere, and I took part in that, that’s as holy sht as it gets bro, so what more can i ask for?”

McMillan interrupts with a wry look, and, between a soft smile, shares, “Dear friend, so many congratulations are in order, you’re finally going back to where you came from, and all still in one piece to boot.  I’m delighted for you.”

After acknowledging him with a tip of his coppola, Gravano continues, “So you know what they did when i told them?  They got everyone together and shared their best brews and smokes they had on hand, the best fkn desserts and game-jerky mix, i got bags of this stuff at my box-crib ready to take back with me.  My desire to leave and move on was celebrated, and it felt amazing.  -I had to tell them, I told them it’s time for me to go back home, gotta get back to breaking bread in phoenix with my main family; we miss each other.  My ticker can’t keep this up forever, one day it’ll just stop, and that’ll be that. …and the memories i leave behind are all anyone’s got, so i gotta be true to who’m I leave them with, no offense to them, of course…” 

Gravano is building up his point and experiences with his hands, “And you wanna know what they told me?  Get this, and i got quotes for you also fly-boy, they told me;  we got this bro’han, we’ll send you and yours whatevers every now and then when we get to talking and remembering about the bad-ass sht we accomplished with ya.”  Gravano stifles a cough and puffs up his chest in satisfaction.

McMillan, never to miss an opportunity to tease a friend, shifts into his seat, elbow on armrest, in skepticism, “That doesn’t sound like the voice of your full crew, Sammy, i’ve met some of those rascally little hufflepuffs, more Marines there than anything else…      …did my new hearing aid let something go amiss?”

Gravano laughs, “yeah yeah, alright.  So, those particular guys and gals, you know, they started moto-yelling at me i guess.  They assured me both my shift, and 6, and all that other sht, is covered forever, and did that stupid Hoorah thing they do.”  Gravano blushes, “they told me it’s okay that i’m going back to being soft, that no one stays hard forever, and to not let the door hit the back of my now useless-nutz on the way out.”

They share a satsifying old-fashioned chuckle.

Gravano leans back in his chair, pride mixed with self-defeat as he gets McMillan’s active listener reply, “us old timers gotta step back, trust the code, and let these younger frames carry on these heavy loads of the good fight, that’s the only guaranteed immortality trick we have…”   Gravano looks outside the window to validate himself and takes the convo back, “They got this…    …and i’m here right now and i can say this, my parents could’ve never have said this; fk it, I’m not afraid of death and taxes!   …Now that me and my familias don’t have to worry about taxes, what’s death but another celebration?…   …I could keel over right now, doesn’t have to be special at all, and it’s whatever bro, I know things are going to be okay for my own, because it’s gonna be okay for everyone.” 

Gravano’s eyes get watery and speaks with resolve, as they both peer onto the charlotte-topia expanse outside, “Options always means freedom.  Not all of us who scrapped for this have this privilege…   …our retirement problem is a fkn blessing, not a curse.”

McMillan takes what he values most, a friend’s perspective, to heart as he washes it down with calculated tea sips.

From high up there, through the window pain glass, where their trauma-bonds grew;
they had a perfect time-lapse view of the Charlotte-topia expanse below.

They witnessed the sprawl-city shift in their 2 yrs there, its emotional and physical state going from one extreme to another. 

They recognized what Charlotte looked like before under the religions of Federal socio-economic constructs; predictable, exploited and depressed.

They observed the auto-sufficient and logistical power house that Charlotte quickly became after it severed those puppet strings; responsible, valiant, and humane.

They cried rage when Charlotte suffered what the US Homeland dept. of defense called, “justified warning retaliatory re-patriation strikes”;
An event where experienced Predator and Reaper drones were reloaded with the ever familiar hell-fire missiles and made it rain red for weeks, and a pair of MOABs were dropped in additional spite.
The slaughter numbered in the ten’s of thousands.

Never again.  Batters up.

When the entire East Coast US Military strong-hold and area of operations was collapsed by internal and external forces soon after, Charlotte remained standing.

  They admire what Charlotte-topia looks like now.
Healed, confident, and more willing and able than ever.

McMillan remarks under his breath “home of the brave.  If you build it, then by golly they will come…”

The city, through mettle and grit, became free of money-based religions and relationships.
There are no cars on any of the main streets, public greenery and large televisions screens stretch out in every direction, and human equity reigns supreme.
People from all corners of the globe, from all walks of life are there bustling about, either as refugees or helping hands.
Philia and Agape grow wild here, and lifts like purple fire-flowers, hiding scars with human hands.

Gravano looks down, gayed up from the sight, and remarks casually, “It never fails to impress, that truth.  Where there’s a will, there’s a fkn way…   …and it’s all mthrfkn sunshine, lollypops and rainbows down there….    …and it’s here to stay bro, we facilitated this-…    …we’re just not the one’s born to maintain it.”

McMillan makes the first move on the board and nods with his other hand holding his lips somewhat, to which he lets up a moment to allow himself to affirm, “indeed dear friend, indeed”. 

The two gents begin their chess match while deliberating current events. 
They’ve gotten into the habit of playing in tandem with their thoughts and words; their convos lining up slightly to the rhythm of the turn based game.

Gravano threatens a white bishop with a black pawn, and spoke on how the upcoming push against these more advanced open-air prisons are becoming impossible to deal with without bloodshed, which is a major and concerning difference from before.
He reckons it seems to be a core feature in their new defense design, as it’s effectively buying them time in keeping their status-quo applications going, just like always. 

“We don’t fkn like it, these UNISFTY assholes are maturing, they’re acting like a different kind of cornered beast right now.  They tightened the space between themselves and their support routes, by adding even more of those prison-farms and military-hospitals hybrids, they got their whole gen-pop extra busy, entertained, afraid and on-lock. 

McMillan shares his observations on the same, “between the censorships, double binds, and ai mixing these poor wage slaves are finding themselves, in all corruptible manner, emotionally and intellectually twisted.” 

Gravano scoffs, “They’re so mind fkd I tell ya, the new algorythms and fake talking heads they are pushing out has them praying to ai priests for more state approved holidays, they’re playing with ai friends that let’s them win,  sexting ai celebrities that is also bundled with their playlists, auctioning on ai art with Doge coin, still voting for red vs blue ai puppets, and i’m not kidding here, we got one case where they went through years of legal paper-work of divorcing an ai synthetic waifu for an ai table-top barista bartender that they felt connected with them at a higher level…”   They both shake their heads disapprovingly, “…and even when the ai is point blank a fkn made up cartoon or just a flag drawing, they’ll find a way to pledge allegiance to it and convince themselves everything is normal…”   

Gravano is frustrated and disappointed,  “Only real thing in them at this point is their fear, loneliness and addictions, and as we’ve seen they’d kill for their routines of all of the above…   …we need fresher approaches against these plantations, and soon…     …i mean, i understand they are victims, but for fks sake, hard to fight an enemy that makes the victim and the threat the same fkn person.”

McMillan gracefully keeps relocating his bishop as he validates Gravano, “The enemy is always evolving, we can’t be letting up on the initiative now that we finally have the steering wheel and a full tank of diesel”.  Gravano nods in silent agreement, moves his queen up, getting her strategically close to the games primary conflict and pressure points.

McMillan flips his rook with his king, castling up against a very aggressive opponent, and declares, “those parasocial relationships are quite the royal pimp slap to reality.   As far as we’ve come, it’s clear we still haven’t fully solved the allegorical cave problem…    ….but alas dear friend, where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

Gravano, unphased by McMillan’s castling, pushes forward and asks about McMillan’s plane, “no gods no masters”.
He heard it’s getting a new tire replaced, and those bullet holes on the right tail wing are finally getting patched up.
McMillan complaints he can no longer emphasize the importance of the survivorship bias to his teams.

Gravano recalls, “Speaking of retirement and replacement bodies, how’s that kid, the new join from our crew that you took under your wing.  Kid’s a superstar, is he as good a pilot as you yet?”

McMillan obliges, “Colton?  Why that boy’s a natural talent, he could fly a 747 off of a conveyor belt if you told him that’s what it takes to get up there again…    best pilot i’ve had the pleasure to work with; with only one exception, his landings.  Dear goodness, every time he lands we all pucker up tighter than cornholes in a vacuum seal.”  -Gravano laughs and coughs, enjoying McMillan’s update, “I do solemnly swear, he’s doing it on purpose, and if we didn’t berate him for that, we’d be replacing more wheels more often.” 

Gravano retors, “i guess you could say you’re all puckered out”.

McMillan rubs his hands gently together, “The crew loves him, and without a second guess I trust they’ll be flying me to my retirement, whenever and wherever that may be and…  …oh my, that reminds me, he texted me earlier and i wasn’t available, and it’s not usual for him to…  A moment please, as I check this bloody device…”  McMillan takes pause from the game and checks his topia-phone texts, “uh-huh.  looks like there’s a small group he’s crash hosting, they’re new to all this and may wish to possibly fill in some seats with us as they intend to head west-ward”, he smiles to himself at reading, “He says three furries wish to see their elderly normie friend make it to the metal library-topias over by Colorado before they go on their own paths further west…   fascinating, i hadn’t heard of these particular metal library-topias yet, but i can imagine…”  McMillan’s face turns quickly from warmed to iced, “oh dear!  It appears I found myself late in responding to a message like this, the narrative is that they’re going through a tough time…   they lost a member and another one was severely injured..  would it bother you any if I invite them over, see how I might be of service?”

Gravano takes another coffee sip and assures his warrior mate, “Never an issue, the more the merrier.  Maybe there’s something I can help with as well.  Hoping I can at least, that Colt’s a good guy…”  Gravano takes the white bishop with his black knight, “…some codes, never retire”.

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Charlotte-Topia is a massive place.   
It sustains and entertains thousands of micro-communities working autonomously together to keep it running, and as a stranger without a guide on your first visit it can easily be over-whelming trying to get your bearings straight in this hive jungle.
On the west side of uptown, at three times the size and insanely busy with people and packages neatly shuffling to and fro, is an international airport-city.

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…

Dorothy and the kiddos are severely shaken up by their recent experiences and jarring situation, but hide it well as they quietly manage and make due, speaking nothing about it while being extra sensitive and supportive with each other.  

While Genosha stayed back to rest further and watch over Nala while she’s down and out, Xavier and Dorothy are in a swinging park bench seat outside of a ER (emergency rooms) duplex house-clinic, being escorted on their second day in Charlotte-topia by an invaluable new friend.

Jan Colton “Barefoot Bandit” Harris-Moore, 35 yr old bonafide pilot and the ultimate wing-man. 
A pacifist that hates alcohol, poverty, and imposed limits;  
instead, is passionate about birds and everything about them.
Friendly and self-assured, he’s a well known and over-zealously loved member around the “hub-and-spoke” area of airport-city, which he helped rebuild and calls home. 

All his wardrobe’s t-shirts are dedicated to honoring the man, the legend, Beebo “the Sky King” Russell, as he rocks the coolest slogans like:
“The Sky’s No Limit”, “fly it like you stole it”, and everyone’s favorite; “’bout to take off, it’s gonna be crazy”.

Colton was begged by Xavier’s space camp friends in Colorado if he could help their mutual friend in need, as they gathered Xavier and his loved ones were not doing well on his journey over to them after a distressed video call the evening before yesterday.

Colton asked around for coverage from peers, and easily cleared his week plans and expected commitments to get Nala emergency medical interventions and help Xavier, Dorothy and Genosha secure food, beds, phones, and over-all become familiar with their immediate area.

After a full day of specialized leg surgery by a local physiology and orthopedic team in an emergency care dedicated duplex house, Nala’s in stable condition, peaceful under sedation and pain management.

Colton’s phone beeps alerting to texts, and he shares the good news with Dorothy and Xavier, “Yay, would ya look at that, Dave finally replied.  Okay, so he’s open to talk to you about maybe flying to Colorado as an alternative to taking the HUGBUG option.  He’s invited us to meet him on the 51st floor of the Queen Latifah and…  Oh!  Cool, the bull is there.” 

Xavier’s eyes widen, “There’s a bull, like a buffalo?  Or a bos taurus?!”

Colton gets right back to him, “oh no!  haha, no, sorry, this guy’s an old timer normie named Sammy.  The bull part is a nickname he earned, something about standing up for himself against some bike bullies when he was a kid.  He’s a cool guy, he’s been here since the start doing mostly offense and defense ops.  He helped me meet Dave and my current crew, so now i’m finally flying again and can help people at…”  Colton flashes his signature superstar Icarus smile, “a higher level.”   

Xavier looks a little disappointed, Colton catches this and assures him, “plenty of taurus bull furries out here though, you’ll find a lot of them tend to stick to their own communities with the cow furries on the outskirts of the city and path-topias.  Buffalo furries are very rare in the east coast, i personally haven’t seen any of them yet myself.”

Getting back on task, Xavier asks, “and this Dave person, is he cool, do we like him?” 

Colton enjoys knowing the people around him and giving credit where credit is due, “ah, dude, he’s great, such a sweetheart to all of us and one of the few pilots willing to fly over the riskier air-spaces when needed.  Oh, something chill’lete about his style you should get a heads up on, nothing bad at all, but you’ll definitely know it’s him when you hear him talk, i mean, check this out, it’s how he wrote i’m sorry for replying late;” Colton elaborates and presses his cheek to his shoulder as he pokes friendly fun at McMillan’s accent, “i’m frightfully sorry for the delay, please do invite them to come see me and Sammy at their earliest, we should be here for another hour or so  -tah!”  

Dorothy and Xavier laugh at the accent charade and that different flavor of communication.

Colton, knowing they’re going through a difficult time, is pleased he’s helping their mood, “musi musi right?”

Xavier nods as his canines keep up with his wide smile, imagining what the two normies look like, as they seem nice-like.

Dorothy melts her laugh into a wishful smile, “he sounds very,   …eloquent.“
She’s hoping that they’re nice folks, good guys, and not like the avalanche of stereo-typical crazies and bad set-ups she’s had to deal with in her lifetime.

Dorothy’s exhausted from being on high alert, but given to how attentive and effective Colton’s been with all of them since they met the night before last, and how the environment reflects a similar culture of angelic servitude, she has positive expectations and is willing to take this leap of faith.
Xavier and her are trusting him more and more.

Nonetheless, between the lipstick, small round make-up mirror case, gum, and an almost empty carton of menthol smokes; her loaded revolver sits pretty and at the ready in her purse.

Genosha is borrowing Vic’s 1911 for safe-keeping on her end.

Xavier, like many other topians, has his paintball rifle conspicuously slinged on him.

Colton texts back <<  k, going soon.  20ish mins.  CYA!  >>

He points to the tallest building, “that’s the Queen Bee right there.  It’s about 5 klicks out, anything you guys wanna talk about as we head over?”

Xavier and Dorothy are dumbfounded as they all load up into a public golf-cart, they have so many questions from the so many sights around them that they elected to politely shake their head and nervously echo themselves, “thank you, not at this moment”.

They ride out smooth on an impeccably maintained Route 74 along with a highway of other people on the road.
No cars, no traffic, just a loud buzz of people going along the entire path up until it disappears into the horizon of the uptown buildings.
A mix of normies and furries; e-wheeling, walking, biking, skating, chatting, working, building, transporting, sharing…

It was another day for Colton, tons of wow-factors for Xavier, and surreal for Dorothy.

“oh!  what are they doing!”, Xavier asks colton as he tugs his shirt sleeve and points over to a large group of normies and furries and children of all diversities in what looks like a small carnival with a snow machine.

“Oh, that’s the Westerly Hills Plaza, it used to be a wal-mart wally-world there a few years ago.  Now it’s one of many welcome-home spaces out here.  That particular one is for children, like, any kid, from anywhere in the world.  So, there are orphans there, foster care run-aways, overall any kid that finds themselves in a bad spot or alone, that area is a guaranteed safe space for them.  They help them link up with open communities out there to find a Topia of their choice, and while they wait they hang around and play and make friends and learn whatever skill they’d like, so it’s, like; a topia therapy-park in a way, sort of?  We totally gotta check it out sometime soon bro.”

Colton slows a bit to let a group of mice and pig furries in regular clothes and with stetho-scopes playfully scurry to move out of Colton’s expected path, Dorothy and Xavier recognizes wave at one of them and say hi and thank you, as she was a part of Nala’s big surgery yesterday.

They wave back excitedly and tell them they’ll be checking up again tonight.

Colton affords them their moment before finishing his thought, “Those guys are the best.  And pretty cool about the parks right?  There’s other similar ones for seniors and others for people with disabilities, and so on.  More up the road we’ll be passing an oldies themed place.  It used to be one of my favorite spots, they have a large heated-pool and a dinosaur themed mini-golf over there, we can definitely go check any of these places anytime if you’d like.”

Xavier looks jealously at everyone having fun, there’s an active skateboard and bike ramps and a paintball field along with mini-roller coasters and swing-sets everywhere.
They note a child in a wheelchair, playing bootleg fortnite outdoors on an extra large screen tv with a dog-furrie, also in a wheelchair. 
There’s groups cheering them on between snacking and up-hyping.

Dorothy sheds an unnoticed tear before putting her brave face back on, and clutches her chest, remembering that her son gave his life for this, Jiggs wasn’t there with them, and Vic’s not here to share this miracle with her.

This feels like heaven.

As they pass along, the money-less labor, trade and logistical set-ups that make these topias possible are evident everywhere.
There are repeated buildings spread out yet close to the main roads. 

Former stereo-typical plaza shop businesses such as super-markets, liquor stores, Mexican/Chinese buffets, and massage parlors were converted into public libraries for tools, metal, furniture, electronics, paints, etc.  Likewise, there were also buildings dedicated to distributing certain fruits and vegetables, while other buildings repaired electronics, solar generators and bio-diesel engines, or provided social activities like hair and nails and mini concerts and games.

While getting closer to the uptown towers, Xavier asks Colton how are the normies and furries here getting the 40 circular meters of unused land space that all topians expect?

“yeah, so the people who live here in city-topias are different from the ones everywhere else because people sacrifice their 40 meters to be here, in order to re-cycle the already created living spaces made from cities.  So a rule of thumb here is roughly 20 sq meters per person.  Anything pass that people start asking questions if a greed trait is popping up in you.”

Dorothy follows up, “What exactly does everyone do here…  i’m sorry, i’ve looked into it but still have a hard time in understanding how it all works”

Colton is used to answering these questions, “No no, no worries, i get it.  It’s easier to explain it to the furries, but us normies under the money-cults from before were raised doing things completely different, so i totally get it”, Colton slows to a stop for a moment as a team of furries and normies are moving a large superfest glass pane and boxes of cups from one side of the road to the other.
On the other side and not in their way, antenna contraptions split into separate large pieces were being loaded up into aircraft tugs with large flat-back hitches.

  “Well, first and foremost, just like all the topia’s everywhere; everyone needs to be able to take care of themselves, like, be able to find or make your own food, home, hygene, be able to cook and protect yourself, etcetera.  It’s very important that everyone is independent from having other people do things for you, because that immediately raises red flags for us on what that relationship is about.  Remember how we used to say grace in thanksgiving and thank the supermarket and country and gods and stuff, but we never thank the actual people that suffered behind that weird privilege?  Well, we don’t have that problem here.”

Xavier, “how are you guys able to know who the enemy is, and protect yourself from the them here?”
Dorothy is glad Xavier asked that question.

“It was important for the war to be made simple, we all agree that cooperation is the law of civilization, and we can’t really cooperate if there’s lying and tricks and threats surrounding that cooperation.  So the way many of us look at it, we’re all earthlings, and to survive this rock you either want to be a good jan and work together with other people to solve our survival problems, or you’re a bad jan for trying to trick other people to do things for you.  So we gossip a lot and openly question and intervene on each other on who we are as individuals, and focus on our actions to see if we are good or bad.  Money, politics, religion?  We talk about it very seriously here, as your views on that is who you are as a person.  So, keeping that view simple and comfortable is what allows us to avoid people who have bad strategies like lying, stealing, manipulating, threatening, false negotiators, etc.  We look immediately to everyone’s actions, doesn’t matter if it’s family, friends, strangers, whatever.  And we’re all expected to value simple truths, because if that’s not there, we can’t solve any problems.

Dorothy asks, “what if they don’t?”

  Colton replies, “Yes.  We call them leeches.  We either guide or avoid people like that to try to change their behavior, but if the threat is real from them, we either lock them up or in extreme cases, we kill them…     …like, we openly talk about that out here.  We talk about it like we are in a village.  If there’s a tiger out there threatening or even killing our people, we defend ourself against that element.  If we can’t get the tiger to leave us alone and not harm us, then we hunt it down…    …we are always trying to make things as non-violent as possible, people don’t like violence; it’s scary, unpredictable, and if we really are at the top of the food chain, unnecessary.”

As they are getting near the point where the 74 meets the uptown area, they pass by the oldies themed place colton was mentioning earlier.

Dorothy jealously looks on, a bunch of seniors move about like gossippy little turtles, comfortably floating in a pool, or playfully putt-putt’ing shots with each other and their younger families enjoying time and space together.

She enjoys and thinks to herself, this is nice, wow…    …and then it hits her, the dinosaur sculptures, and whispers under her breath in amused shock “oh, these topians are some pun-loving bastards.”

They park their g-cart along with the other public carts in a dedicated e-wheels space, and Colton proudly gives a tour of the inside.

The lobby place is bustling with activity.

“Most of the people down here live here, they help keep the building safe and operational.
The floors above us have different dedicated functions, like, food and mechanics and climate control and housing and security both from inside and outside and possible air threats.  oh, and communication, this is a major point where we pass on free internet and public aircraft radar views so we can spot friend or foe flyers.

As they wait in line for an elevator, Colton takes a moment to brain tease his guests,

“Catch this guys, Davey once told us that we need to be mindful of something we call; the uncanny valley.  Are we privy to it?”

Xavier curiously nods no, and Dorothy looks at Colton all ears.

“so uncanny valley is when something appears to be real, or human, but isn’t quite there matching up to our expectations.  He says there’s this deep thing about us that we need to explore and better understand inside ourselves and between others.  like, he explained in a better way that i can, that there’s always a logical survival reason, if someone is sick or injured or looks different, our first inclination is fear of the unknown and approach with caution or spears out, and that makes sense, the world is naturally chaotic.  But, if we don’t move past that fear and get curious enough to see if its good or bad, or trustable or predictable or something, if we don’t learn more around the real truths around whatever it is, then problems start to happen where we fill in missing information with whatever fear is out there, and can lead to things like paranoia, anxiety or even xenophobia when it might not be appropriate.   Ehm, if i remember right, it all has to do with routines being tied to a feeling of predictability, which equals to safety.  So there’s a shared nuanced contrast there.  Weird right?
Even when we read books, we can sometimes get uncanny valley from the plot and characters.”

The elevator door dings open and they step inside, with everyone comfortably filling in, turning around, pressing their buttons and resuming their small convos.

Except Colton, he walked in and remained facing the back-side of the elevator.

True to what Colton shared, the floors were a mix of the different crews and purposes that kept the building’s body and soul running.
The different levels are labeled by number and function.

Colton kindly asks Xavier, while still facing the back-side of the elevator, if he could please hit the 51’st floor, labeled as “area 51- Leisurely-View Space”.

As the doors close with a ding and starts pulling up, Dorothy feels unnerved and confused at Colton all of a sudden, she doesn’t know if this is a topian thing or if there’s something wrong with him in particular, because everyone else was facing the door, as you do.

She discreetly clutches her purse while not being able to get her mind off of Colton.
She notices that she wasn’t alone, that other people here were also giving him glances, while the furries in the elevator didn’t seem to bothered, and she doesn’t know what to make of this.

Colton smiles at Dorothy as he turns around”, furries never notice, but did you?”

Dorothy knods in relief as colton flashes an okay with his fingers in sign-language and enunciates to her with a wink and a smile, “uncanny valley”

As the elevator picks up speed, Xavier keeps his nerves quietly in check as he feels a shift in his body and worries to himself why does it feel like his lungs and hips are moving towards his feet.  He figures this must be one of those uncanny valley elevator things, and starts calculating, am I getting denser or heavier?  And ope! did I just get lighter?

Colton, familiar that many Furries haven’t ridden an elevator before, teases him sing-songy, “ope!  there goes gravity!”

Xavier smiles nervously, appreciative that his new friend let him know this was a normal and an okay shared experience.

Xavier continues to try to feel out more this unknown, where his soul goes up and down like a yo-yo to the elevators ups and stops, and it feels almost like an emotion but it’s not.
Colton continues to tease in, “Later when we go down you’ll feel the opposite.  That feeling is even more intense when you’re taking off or smooth crashing a plane.  Now, can you even imagine what it must feel like to be an astronaut, blasting into space strapped onto one of those massive boom-buckets?  Don’t know if you know, but they built mach 3G centripetal tester seats out there in Colorado.”

Colton keeps to himself that elevators always remind him of his girlfriend.

Xavier listens with a fascinated nod, and self-concludes that his relationship with gravity is also an emotion.
He felt it the first time when he was on Nala’s kasi-treetop spot, that massive view, and it feels good here on this elevator.
He imagines what it’s like on a plane or even on a rocket, and enjoys a renewed feelings of reaching his rocket-topia space camp and potential adventures.

The elevator dings a unique ring for the 51st floor, opens up, and they walk out into a fresh well-lit scene.
The room is filled with what looks like an indoor picnic theme, thick with spread out tables of board and card games, convo’s, and laughter in the air.
There’s random groups of families and friends, normies and furries, looking out the windows, smiling and tapping the glass as they point outwards.

Colton spots them out in their usual table, “There they are”, and brings them in to make their introductions and facilitate the communication between each other.

The two gents invite them to blind try their bisquits, eating a bit from their plate first in a show that the food is not tampered with, there’s trust here.

It’s was playfully revealed by the three new joins to the table that McMillan won on having a tastier bisquit recipee…     …McMillan gloats on a chuckling defeated Gravano in light spirits, “Game, set, match my old chum, better luck next time.”

Dorothy and Xavier haven’t said much, and McMillan asks his chess-mate.
Do you see, what I see?”, and he nods over to the two guests.

Gravano nods and tells them directly, “Y’all have the look…      …you guys had to kill to get here, we’ve seen it so many times before.  It’s okay, you’re safe here”

Xavier and Dorothy look at each other, momentarily shocked, exposed.

McMillan assures them, “It’s okay.  We understand, what it’s like, to have to do what it takes to protect ourselves and to escape.  We don’t need details.
But we do need to help each other heal and move forward.”

Colton, “oh no, i’m sorry guys, i.  i didn’t know, we have some places that are dedicated to talking about these things and, and, can i, is this okay?  It’s okay if it’s not”, Colton offers a hug, and Xavier and Dorothy welcome him and they have a moment.  The warm hug melts into whimpers, and then evolves like three boulders together streaming tears and sobs from both of them, Colton holds it together.

The sobbing is noted nearby, the entire room slowly starts to notice and goes quiet, as nearby folks look on, ready to get involved and explore this uncanny situation, ready to make sure there’s no harms being committed here.

McMillan speaks up, “It’s okay, no one’s in danger.  Our new family members are new here, and had a hard time coming over.
A random Marine in the back, one of those stereo-typical loud ones, yells out, “They’re NOT, ALONE.  RAH!?  GROUP HUG MTHRFKRS!”

The entire room mobilized, held hands, and surrounded them in a charlotte-topian cultural display of esprit de corps the guest’s had never experienced before, and took the trio hug to a higher level.

The crowd shout’s out, in high spirits and laughter.

“AND. A. 1, AND A TWO, AND A ONE TWO THREE!” 

HEY! 

YOU’RE WELCOME HERE!

HEY! 

IT’S SAFE OUT HERE!

HEY, ITS BATTERS UP

HEY!

WE HOLD IT UP,

AND. IT’S.

“HOME RUN BABIES, WHEN THE KNIGHTS LINE THE BASES,

HOME RUNS, HOME RUNS! 

HEY BATTER BATTER BATTER BATTER

SAFE SAFE SAFE!

The random Marine from within the crowd yells, YUUUUUUT!!!

The crowd cheers and let go of each other as they begin diffusing back.

Many strangers queued up and came by, placing their hands confidently on the table and chairs near them, not touching them as they were absent of permission, and let affirmed as they gently passed by, “it’s okay”, “anything at all”, “let us know”, “we’re here for you”, “just say the word”.

The line was made up of normies, furries and even children, as they went back to their own tables and groups, returning the volume back to a background buzz of convos and laughter and even squeals after one kid shouted “tag, you’re it!”.

Dorothy and Xavier and Colton let up, Colton assures them “it’s all going to be okay” as he lets them go and makes his way back to his seat.

“Take your time”, the gent’s reassure them, “we’re all human, doing human things here, being human is normal.”

Dorothy and Xavier hold hands, their palms tight together, they work on returning to their brave face, feeling somewhat cleansed.
A weight lifted out, but unsure how to return to the table after this unexpected experience. 

McMillan catches this, and speaks out loud to Gravano, while sideway’s welcoming the visiting ears.

“Did you know, that the earliest signs of a neo-civilization, is a bashed heart, nurtured and set back to truth and peace?”

Everyone remains quiet, personally looking into their personal meanings of this wisdom.

  McMillan continues against the awkward silence, “But even more interesting, is the word “set” itself, considered one of the most versatile words in the english language.  Can you imagine?  it has over 400 uses.  Other ones are: “Go, run, take…   and that dastardly prefix- Cata-whatever” 

Gravano adds in to the game, “ah, yeah, i hear ya…    let’s see.  ummm.  what about, cut, and stand..   …and maybe cap?

McMillan applaused lightly amused, “whooaah, good one”.

Xavier, letting himself be evoked out of his depressed state from the pull of his curiosity, has never thought about language and english words like that, but blurts out “pana”.

Colton agrees, “whoooaaah, good one!”, and gives Xavier and approving nudge.

Colton adds in, “okay okay, i think i got one.  umm.  man!  and jan!  high.  and oh.  okay.  like, the word, okay.  OH!  and- like, like the word, like.  ha! i guess, i think?

The group nods and repeats together, “whooooaaaagh, good one!”

Dorothy braves up as the last one and joins the game, meekly but sure of herself, “.. ELOQUENT …COOL WORDS…MCMILLAN”

The table starts laughing.  Gravano laughs so hard he starts coffing, and between those caughs, cries out “can’t believe i didn’t think of that one myself!”

The mood in the table was succesfully shifted, and McMillan looks back to their chess game.
On Gravano’s side, black, there was only a knight and two pawns left.
The black king was forced to limp around the end-game, and is now pinned onto its foundational row by a solitary white rook one row above it. 
McMillan reaches out over the board and moves his pawn into black’s court.

“No need to Queen me, just bring back that other rook you captured; consider him commissioned, and accept my check-mate”

Gravano smiles, and that’s why i like ya ya anton ego mthrfkr.

Colton laughs and taps McMillan shoulder in reference to the burn, being the only one to get the joke, “It’s from a movie, the guy’s a food critic”

McMillan glances around the table, “what’s the saying again?  oh, right, haters gonna hate hate hate.”

The table erupts in laughter again.

McMillan shares with the guests what he knows, that there’s 4 of them, and they all wish to go west.

They speak on where they want to go, but the when is up in the air because Nala just went through surgery and needs to heal.

Gravano explains that he will be taking a HUGBUG to Tucson-topia, as he wraps up some commitments and will be taking his box-crib with him.

McMillan explained that they have the option of going with him by plane, Gravano can help them if they go by HUGBUG, or they have the option of mixing and matching or going with other folks.  No shortage of options, but at least they have a starting point to move their plot forward.

McMillan, curious, addresses Dorothy; “Jan Dorothy, i must say, you’re destination tickled my fancy, I’d love to hopefully learn more about that place from your point of views, but i’m afraid i have to leave now.”  As McMillan shares his business card to Xavier and Dorothy, “anything at all feel free to write me anytime, if you will please excuse me the crew is working on their plane and it would be wrong of me to not help do check-ups and rachet a bolt in here and there.  Ain’t that right Colton?”

McMillan gives a squint eye to him and he shies away, “i know i know, a few things got shook loose my b my b…    …but…    ….did you die?”

McMillan smiles and squeezes Coltons shoulder as he walks past, says his goodbyes, and momentarily addresses Dorothy,

“It would be nice to hear from you again.  I’ve come to learn that it can be a little overwhelming, sometimes lonely being surrounding by so much young energy sometimes.   Some things are impossible for even our closest loved ones to relate to.  If you’re open to an old fashioned drink and music from the 80’s”  McMillan smiles and winks, “i know of a place”

Dorothy, flattered and feeling somehow heard, shares she was happy to meet them.

Gravano starts getting his things together on the table,

“That said, I’ve got some responsibilities i have to attend to myself, my nephew Luigi and some friends are on their way tonight.
I got word that one of them is still recovering and needs a check-up out here.  Hey Colton, you think you will have time later on tonight to pass by and help me with this?”

Colton asks Gravano abruptly, “Luigi?  like, THE Luigi is coming?”
Gravano smiles at Colton, “That’s right sonny, and you heard it from me first, now let’s keep it a bit under-wraps, this is a riskier package that’s coming”

Dorothy and Xavier see this interaction and assure Colton that with everything he’s shown them, they feel thankful and confident and adventurous in finding their own way back, and ask him if it’s okay for them to test out their city navigation skills and charlotte-topia map app he showed them.

They invite him to catch up with them when he’s done with Sammy.

The group reaches that agreement, Gravano and Colton stay behind and discuss.

COLOTON GOING TO FIX TIRE.  MCMILLAN TAKES OVER SO COLTON CAN KEEP TAKING CARE. 

dorothy tempered