Alright, so my plans are changing and I dunno if I'm even going to Vegas or not. Either way, I'll still keep posting and if I don't go I will still take a break to give everyone time to catch up.

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Dear River,

Happy birthday dear! Eighteen is such a milestone in a young girl's life. I'm sorry, young woman. You are no longer a child, but a beautiful, brilliant, engaging young woman of this universe. I know I’ve only known you for two years, but is has been a pleasure to watch you grow and mature from the timid child you used to be to the confident adult I know you are now.

The ranch is doing fine, other than it feels slightly incomplete. I believe the others will write their accounts, but for Meilin and I, we're doing fine. She grown some since you left, and she's learned to smile and play. She's very curious and we've all found the simplest pleasure in making her grin.

I hope all is going well, we think of you constantly as the ranch seems empty without you and Boston filling the house with your escapades. However it seems you’ve moved on to a setting that will only aid in your development, and while the road may be difficult it will help you become an even more exceptional young woman. There is no doubt that great things will come from you.

Have a Happy Birthday and a Merry Yuletide (and keep writing!)

With Love,

Inara

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Walnuts.

Sculls cracked open like walnuts, fresh brains spilling out. Gobbled up greedily by powder wigged bureaucrats, who in turn smiled with rows of sharp teeth and played with the marionettes that were the people. They laughed, the powdered wigs, and they grew children in jars. Children with dead eyes, children with dead souls, children with no individualism. Grey, soulless babies, canned brains, floating in jars. Stolen children with their brains eaten, their brains butchered, their brains property of the powdered wigs. Stamped and registered.

River screamed in her