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#On Organic Matters in Sea-Salt
mechanical-drawing · 5 months
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22 January 1876
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purplewhiteandgold · 1 year
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In pain thinking about the fact that after things settled, Axel was probably forced to eventually connect the dots and realize that the reason he (and everyone else) forgot about Xion was because she and Roxas were once again forced to fight each other and she'd lost, and he wasn't there to stop it that time because he'd lost Roxas' trust and couldn't save her from that fate or save Roxas from being forced to do that
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ghostieyanyan · 4 months
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Is it ok if I can ask for a yandere Rollo Flamme? I like the idea of Rollo because he’s already based off a yandere villain so it makes sense. And I think Rolli would like to get close to Yuu cuz they don’t have any magic so they’re seen as ‘pure’ in Rollo’s eyes. Maybe Rollo can be seen trying hard to control his urges at the fireplace or he captured MC and tried to burn them at the stake like in the movie? Your choice.
hehehe... why not just add salt to injure? what if mc has pyrophobia, a fear of fire?
~Let the fire purify you~
Yan!Rollo x Pyrophobia!Mc
Warnings: Fire, burning, kidnapping, anxiety attack, chains, gag, breakdown,
~~~
Rollo hated magic... with a passion. A passion that burned so bright that hurricanes, rainstorms, floods, and tsunami together couldn't extinguish this flame of pure hatred.
How does no one sees the danger of magic? How many lives have to be taken in the hand of magic for people to understand this is a problem? He guesses that its one of humanities sin, playing dumb, playing ignorant, until it becomes someone they care about that gets hurt. its always like that... why could people just see things through his lenses BEFORE someone got hurt...
But for now, he just has to do gods work for everyone else, until they see things his ways...
He had a plan. a plan that will solve this problem before it could get worst. The plan to get rid of magic, from one of the most powerful mages in twisted wonderland, to the student "prodigies" of that sick, sinful school, to the townsfolks of Fleur city, to every inch of Twisted wonderland.
With this crazy plan, he'll make, no, he'll force everyone to see how he sees life should be. he didnt care on who got hurt-
until-
he met Night Raven College's gem in the rock, their Perfect. When all the students were introducing themselves, when it was your turn. He swore the world stopped and he would have swore on his life that he saw wings and a halo on you. You looked, spoke, and acted like an angel. you even allow these sinful... beasts... breathe the same air as you. then you have an ACTUAL beast as a familiar. don't tell grim that.
your heart and soul must be made out of pure gold. he has to protect it at all cost. he will use his own body to shield you from magical blast and then some to keep your purity in tact. he will move mountains and redivert lakes, rivers, seas, and oceans for you. Rollo Flamme will make you into his deity that he worships.
~
All the students decided to split into groups and explore Fleur City, after they got changed.
to say Rollo thought you looked breathe taking in your glorious masquerade outfit was an understatement. he was about to come up to you and compliment you, maybe even starting small talk with you but a certain lizard decided to be the first to do so...
Of course that monster would be charmed by an angel like you. Evil loves to tempt with good.
no matter, he'll just have to see you another time but if he gets too busy..? He'll make time for you.
~
Rollo lead you into his office, you didn't mind too much because he was telling you all about the school's history and art. it is a really pretty school, it gives very romantic feelings.
when you finally made it into his office, you froze at the doorway at seeing the fire place. Rollo quickly notices and puts out the flame with a very helpful near by bucket. You were grateful that Rollo was very accommodating to your fears.
you thanked him and sat down across from him while Rollo sat in his chair.
"I'm very sorry for asking you to meet me at this ungodly hour but i just needed your input on something and if i didn't ask you, i would have had a sleepless night tossing and turning." Rollo said as he got everything on his desk organized.
"hehe, its alright. I just happen to have a restless night myself.. but i don't mind the company."
"oh my that sounds awful. what seems to be troubling you?"
"w-well.."
It was really hard to tell someone you only just recently met that you had a "bad feeling" about something and how so far, in twisted wonderland, its always comes true...
"well.. i think... maybe, its just the 'sleeping at a new place' feeling and I'm just not getting use to it. but I'm sure its fine. heh.."
"hmm.."
Rollo seemed satisfied with that answer and continues, by leaning towards you on the desk.
"i know i asked you about this before, but id like to discuss it with you more in depth... hmm?"
since Rollo put out the fire place, there was only a small lamp on the desk to shine light in the room. you kind of wished that the fire place was still lit... cause everything in this scenario was telling you to run and never look back..
"o-okay..? what would you like to know..?"
Rollo smiled and leaned back into his chair.
"as a magicless student in a full school of magical.. mages, aren't you scared they might... turn and hurt you..?"
the way he worded that made you feel more unnerved.. you trusted your friends in Night Raven College. Even the ones that did try to hurt you, they still came to your defense and help and protected you when you needed them.. you trusted them with your life and having this man tell you "you shouldn't because they can use magic" was... laughable...
"no.. because they've earn my trust and I've earn theirs..!"
"Earned..?"
Rollo's face darkened as you stood up from the chair you were sitting in.
"I'm sorry Rollo. Thank you for your hospitality but i have to go."
you start walking to the door but stopped.
"with however you feel about magic, i wont sit down and let you disrespect them just because they possess a special ability and i don't. It doesn't make them less of a person. Magic or no magic."
you walked to the door but before you could even touch the doorknob, you feel a body press against your back, pinning you against the door. you couldn't even move, much less move the door.
"I'm sorry my sweet angel~... i guess.. I'll just have to show you myself then~"
you see a quick purple blur and then tightness around your throat. Rollo was using his signature purple and gold handkerchief to strangle you! you tried to struggle. you tired to jab your elbow into his chest but his uniform was too thick for it to do any good.
You started to feel light headed then everything you saw was slowly turning black. the last thing you saw was Rollo, and the insanity in his eyes.
~
you had so many questions...
why you? was it because you don't have magic so you were "easy"? aren't there other people in twisted wonderland without magic? you just happened to go to a school "for" magic users so of course you'll see it a lot.
what's so bad about magic? ya it almost killed you here and there but it also almost killed either the user or other people around you.. but afterwards everything would have been fine. Plus you didn't blame the magic for those situations. you couldn't even say you blamed the user. some deserved the blame.. but not everyone..
how did you get here..? probably from your big mouth, you should have been smart when you were talking to Rollo. he was already giving you weird vibes and you just had to make it worst
you had more questions but you knew none of them would get answered..
you started to slowly open your eyes..
where are you..? what's this sound..? why cant you move..?
you slowly looked around, you remember this place... Rollo showed you, with your friends. the big bell, the bell of Solace. you noticed that you were alone though..
you looked around some more, you looked out from where you sat on the floor. it was dark out but with an orange hue... was the sun rising..? what's going on?
you went to take a step, to look out but something stopped you. a cold hand..? no..? a chain?!
if you weren't fully awake then, now you are! the chain was short, at least 2 feet long from the floor, it was attached to both your ankles. you could only go so far out.
what happened?! what's going on?!?
you started breathing heavily, tears started to form. you felt so confused, so lost. someone, anyone, please hel-
"oh my dear! you're awake."
your blood became ice, you looked up to see an uncomfortably happy Rollo.. he had a basket of breads and fruits.
"i was so worried that you'll never wake up. I'm very happy you did~"
with a heavy chest, you spoke.
"what's going on, Rollo!? Why are we here? why am i-?"
"oh within time my dear angel~ we just have to wait for those flowers to do their miracles. in the meantime, eat. you've been sleeping for a while and-"
"flowers..? what are you-...? Rollo...."
you took a deep breathe to try to settle your nerves.
"Please, Rollo... I'm scared. please tell me what's going on."
he looks at you and sighed, placing the basket down on a near by table. He then walked over to you and sat beside you, motioning you to come closer to him.
You did. you don't really have a choice right now..
"I'm making our perfect little world my love~ our paradise~"
you looked at the man like he was crazy. he was, at this point. But he continues.
"the Crimson flowers, the one that looks like fire, the flowers i shown you when you toured the city, they have the ability to take a mage's magic until they are just magicless people.. like you."
you stared at him but he kept smiling.
"magicless.. like me..?"
"yes my dear, then everyone in this world would have to understand magic is like a poisonous weed that has to be pulled out. or it'll spread to the other crops."
you just stared. you couldn't bare to keep looking at him so you turned to look at anything else..
magicless like you... no.. this isn't right. this cant happened!
Rollo thought the conversation was over and sat up to get the basket.
"Before this started, i made sure to get some food. i thought you'll be hungry so-"
"...mon...ster..."
Rollo froze. he was facing the backet and didn't turn around.
"excuse me..?"
you stood up, leaning against the wall, as best as you could. You knew your big mouth was gonna put you in a tough situation again but- what were you suppose to do?
"you, Rollo Flamme, are a monster."
he slowly turned to you, his eyes screamed murder. even if your body is shaking, from fear, from anxiety, from anger, maybe all of them at once's, but you kept your eye contact with Rollo.
You knew a comment like that will hurt him. you knew you couldn't physically harm him but you just wanted to hurt him like he planned to do the same to everyone you cared for..
the silence was deafening.
Rollo took some slow steps to you and leaned down to your level.
"take. that. back."
"no. cause i didn't say anything wrong.."
you hear Rollo take a deep breath and he quickly snaked his hand to grab the nape of your neck. you let out a gasp, from the sudden movement. he straighten his posture and brought you to his eye level.
"it's seems that those... mages.. have filled you with their poison. I'll just have to purify you myself. don't say i didn't warn you, my angel.."
he dragged you to a window and made you look outside. the entire city was filled with those flowers but... the looks of those flowers... made it look like you were in the middle of a raging firestorm. you felt your stomach drop. you felt cold shivers, and you didn't even realized that tears were falling. when you looked more, you noticed that the "fire" was slowly climbing the tower you were in.
you were about to let out a blood curdling scream but you were stopped by Rollo tying that purple handkerchief into a makeshift gag for you.
After that, he threw you, face down into the ground. Your body was shivering from fear so intensely, to the point that it feels like you lost complete control over your body. you couldn't even fight back when Rollo tied your hands together.
"i, really, am sorry for this my sweet angel~ but i have to get rid of the poison that those mages put in you... you have to be purified."
Rollo walked off and came back holding a fireplace poker. it was glowing red and you could see smoke coming off of it. where he got that, you didn't know but your attempt to get away from him was met with a wall against your back.
you felt your head spin, you were trembling to no return, the hot tears wouldn't stop, and the makeshift gag he put on you was now soak with tears, saliva, and snot.
Rollo kept walking towards you, in an agonizing slow pace.
"don't worry, my angel love~ after this, all will be forgiven~"
when he went to grab your face, he-
"MC!!"
those are.. familiar voices.. you know those voices..
"tch.. i suppose your punishment will have to wait my love. apparently, ill have to finish these pesky mages off myself."
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nova--spark · 7 months
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Earth 101 : A Manual for the Visiting Cybertronian
Chapter One : Planet Earth
Planet Earth is located within the aptly named ‘Milky Way’ galaxy, as the humans liken the hazy starlight to ‘spilled milk’ [ See: Earth Fuel/Foods ,Earth Phrases for more information ]. A young star system in comparison to Cybertron, the planet of Earth is located in what the humans rather creatively called the Solar system, as their measurements of time are based on the rotations their planet takes around the center of their system, a star they call the Sun.
They appear to regard it as one of the main factors for life capabilities on Earth.
Earth is the 3rd planet from this Sun, and is in what humans call the 'Goldilocks Zone' [See: Earth Fables and Folklore for 'Goldilocks' definition.] , resulting in its capabilities for sustaining life.
Earth has only one moon orbiting itself, and is not a large planet, but still one of impressive accomplishments, being the only planetary body in its system which hosts any form of life at all.
Earth is a planet rich in water, as an impressive 71% of the planet is covered in dihydrogen monoxide, also known as H20, or commonly referred to by the native humans as water. 
Astoundingly however, the majority of this water is not able to be used by the population as sustanence due to the large part of their seas being salt water, which in large quantities is harmful to the populace.
The Earth is divided into several continents, which they populate, save for a handful which are so cold that no human in their right mind would inhabit.
Editor’s Note: It appears this information was flawed, as human scientists have in fact resided in the Arctic and Antarctic on months long expeditions in sometimes sub zero temperatures that would be harmful if not for their fortified shelters in these cold enviroments.  Why they would do this remains wholly confusing to our own kind, as such temperatures are deadly if exposed for too long.
Within these continents, various countries exist, which are populated by various organic beings, but the majority being human cities or colonies which vary in levels of technology and density of population.
Most impressive about Earth is the biodiversity, as its entire planet houses various forms of weather and ecosystems.
Earth can go through various types of ecosystems, ranging from calm forests, scorching deserts, freezing tundras, lush rainforests and jungles, and even entire cavern systems below ground, and amazingly, there is a report of an entire cavern in a secluded area of the planet, which created its own weather system of a sort. A fascinating show of how wondrous this planet can be.
Our Maximal and Eukarian natives have often stated that the various biomes of Earth remind them of their own home worlds and other planets that they had visited eons ago, which has offered a comforting reminder for some.
Terran flora can come in a great and numerous variations.
Flowers who grow and blossom for a mere few hours, and trees whose height far surpasses that of any regular Cybertronian, and could rival that of Combiners or a smaller classed Titan. Terran flora can also be quite vicious, as there are many a poisonous plant that exist and can harm humans if used incorrectly in medicinal and even casual usage such as cooking.
When asked how humans determined which plants were safe to eat and which were not, the method of 'trial and error' was the most recognized, despite the fact this meant the possibility of grievous harm to their health.
It is truly a miracle how humans survive such a deadly and dangerous planet so easily and calmly, though human media suggests they are quite heroic in survival matters.
Editor’s Note: I have been informed that the 'heroic propaganda' cited above is what is known as action movies, a common pastime and entertainment form on Earth. Apologies for this error.
Equally impressive however is the existence of flora who in fact hunt, consuming insects rather than photosynthesizing for survival. The plants are small but it would appear that some can capture quite large [for human standards] bugs or even small animals if they are the correct size.
That said, though we are of great stature in comparison to Terran fauna, please do not feel inclined to challenge the native wildlife.
Many a Cybertronian medic has had to repair dented frames from foolish mechs and femmes alike who did the following :
Gave chase to predator species in an attempt to scare them off. Result : Scratch marks and punctures of claws 
Fought undersea wildlife, primarily sharks who in self preservation tactics, would bite and leave teeth imprints and even teeth themselves on a mech's plating.
Said undersea incident also resulted in the tangling of seaweed and kelp within said bot's joints.
Bots who attempted to befriend wildlife instead would also be met with hostile reactions at times. This is a reminder that a real wild bear is not the equivalent of the toy known as the 'Teddy Bear'. Real bears will attack you. 
There are animals who have tusks and horns as defensive features to their bodies. These will dent and at worst, puncture your plating or even through your frame. 
Do not attempt to pet the bison/buffalo. They look friendly. They are not.
No, predatory species known as the 'big cats' are not in fact like regular domesticated household pet cats. They are not friendly.
Wolves are also not the same as household dogs. Approach with caution. Or don't. Please.
Birds of many varieties like to collect 'shinies'. We apologize to those who are stationed in the continent of Australia, as the species known as magpies are particularly vicious. 
Reinforced plating is advised for those visiting the particularly wild nation of Australia. All Australian wildlife in general appears to be particularly deadly in some capacity. 
Though small in size, bugs will splatter on windshields in your vehicular form. No, it cannot be prevented. We advise regular trips to the human creation known as a 'car wash'.
Rather interestingly as well, Earth’s native flora and fauna sometimes resembles Cybertron’s very own, just in organic manner. This could be due to the fact that centuries ago, Earth was one of the many worlds which Energon hoards were stashed till the planet itself began to grow its very own after the prolonged exposure.
Editor’s Note: Things have been revealed that this editor will simply say…they explain a lot more now.
A LOT more.
To be explained perhaps in another section of this field guide/manual to your cohabitation on Earth.
However, Earth does very clearly differ still from our own home, as it is as stated before, organic in nature, and its iron, steel and other metals are found deep within the Earth, not like on our world where they’re so clearly topside in comparison. Earth manufactures its metals, wiring, and other technological components, which are otherwise not found naturally.
Earth also, despite having Energon, doesn't use it as a fuel source, instead it will use oil, most commonly petrol, electrical currents and in some bizarre cases, even use nuclear power to power various forms of human settlements.
Editor's Note: As it seems, humanity is actually unaware of what Energon is despite the planet being quite rich in its deposits. 
They appear to not have the technology to even detect it, deeming it as, in the words of one of our allies 'Just another pretty thing to look at'. Absurd by our standards, but we do not judge for their inability to comprehend the importance of it.
Despite this, Earth has been trying for roughly a vorn, to transition to alternative power sources, such as solar power, kinetic energy like that of the air with their windmill turbines, and even using organic matter of various kinds to attempt to form alternative fuels.
These endeavors are well documented and admirable, as their main source of fuels, aptly named fossil fuels, are in fact, the liquidized form of the planet’s previous inhabitants known as 'Dinosaurs' ,which went extinct many many centi-vorns ago.
 [See: Cybertronian-Earth interconnections : Dinobots for more details. ]
This concludes the introduction to the basics of the planet Earth’s status.
Any and all queries related to further information of the Earth’s composition, atmosphere, and otherwise related geographical information, please direct them to the author appropriately so that your query, dear reader, is properly answered with dutiful knowledge and understanding, to help your fellow Cybertronian!
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aelinschild · 3 months
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Paradigm; side by side
˙✧˖ March 5th: Surprise
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Main Masterlist | Paradigm; side by side Masterlist |
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SYNOPSIS: But shame appeared like a monster at his feet; he did not stop at noticing. WORDCOUNT: 742 WARNINGS: Cursing, horny Rowan again (This is a reoccurring theme)
Huge thank you to @throneofglassmicrofics for organizing! Make sure to check out other works over on their account!
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He was sick. 
It dripped from the cracked open well of his mind. This carnal infatuation. Two fucking days at sea only chafed his hands further. Drove him to the brink of insanity with nothing but luminosity in its reach. Futile, his attempt. 
A near decade of solitude had changed him. Or maybe it was the woman across the hall.
Somehow his humanity had been stripped from being, flayed off bone like parchment. More animal than man, abruptly changing his being in the presence of another. Huffing, he drove the shovel into sun-warmed earth again. Splitting callouses on the wooden handle and welcoming the burn of slivers. It was a welcomed reprieve – the physical pain – to the dwelling in between cerebral tissues. 
In the swirl of his coffee, the drip of shaving cream as it swirled down the drain, even the goddamn seafoam teased him. Staring into them, eyes tracing over the natural patterns, before shifting and curling. Volume and peaks. He would catch a line – trace it as it flowed, morphed, connecting at an apex, rising into a cinch. He saw her everywhere. 
A part of him knew this compulsion was natural. That isolation crafts a certain brand of savagery. Hardly any shame in noticing. 
But shame appeared like a monster at his feet; he did not stop at noticing. 
Thud, thud, thud. 
It had been like holding a blessing, warming him through all atrophy. Skin, bloody and bruised, had all but screamed at him to touch. Bandage, or press into. Delicately trace serrated hide, peel back coverings. He still felt her weight in his hands. Hadn't fallen asleep until the weight of quilted blankets held a candle to her. 
Dirt fell from the edges of the hole, tumbling back in. Progress slipping away. Less so than if he had chosen to dig through sand. Its richness packed it together, congealing the salt water with decay as it sopped through the distance. He would need to dig deeper for any progress to be made today. 
It was an escape, an out. This craft he had taken up for the day. I need to build… head heavy and tongue laden. She had only nodded, eyes skirting his own, before tucking back into the sunroom. The gossamer skirt flowed along the worn floorboards. He hoped it would catch, shred the entire thing from her body. He would not be at fault for the natural world's intentions. But he felt sick for wanting them. 
-
He was wearing the shirt today. 
But it had been removed not too long ago, tossed into tall grass and nestled into Gaia’s clutches. The weight of it along sun-warmed flesh had been oppressive. Settling on him like tar, sticky and irremovable. It hadn't mattered anyway. 
The night had been so quiet. He had woken up thrice; checked her room once to make sure she hadn't run off in the night. The feeling had wormed around his mind, you scared her. Brutish and nasty in all lonesome glory when he towered over her. Pulse racing with fear, expelled into a rage. But she had been there. Nestled between blankets he had chosen. Cooled from windows cast open that he had built. Sheltered in the small canopy bed – a family heirloom. There was a strange sense of pride when he truly took in the sight of it all. 
That, and some darker yearning for permanence. 
Lingering on the thoughts would have led nowhere good, and so Rowan has risen before the sun to set off on foot towards the forest nearby. Acres of land penned in eternal ink in his mind's eye had led him to the collection of deadfall. Most rotted with sickness meant that the early cerebration had stalled in its rampage. A beast calmed, eye shutting with content and thumping back to its cavern. 
Eventually, enough solid elm was collected, and the walk back to Aelin- the house, was in part. 
To this moment, torrid heat lashing down on him as he stood unmovable. A sculpted portrayal of the lover scorned. Waiting for the moment when disdain, apathy, fuck, even curiosity morphed into something more. Until then, he would burn. Sun rays or gold-lined irises. It made no difference. 
Rowan watched Aelin rouse from bed, his spot in the tall grass a mighty vantage point to the moment between vulnerability and its nemesis. Like a predator stalking his prey, he did not move until she disappeared from sight.
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Taglist: @mariaofdoranelle , @leiawritesstories , @renxzs
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fairy-writes · 1 year
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Merfolk!Viktor x Reader 06
i decided not to link the past parts of this series. i don’t want like a million links on my post.
so! 
all parts of this series are tagged under cryptid!viktor :)
cryptid!viktor also includes my pieces with vampire!viktor
also take all this scientific stuff with a grain of salt. i have actually no idea what i’m doing.
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“magnificent! absolutely stunning!” the onsight doctor (veterinarian) gasps as she marvels at the ct scan in front of her. it showed a detailed scan of viktor’s inner organs and body. the merman was still heavily sedated, floating motionless in an upright glass tube of water with a machine buzzing around him, taking said ct scans for you to stare at.
if they hadn’t tortured the poor merman so, you would’ve found it fascinating. 
part of you still did. 
so you watched on, watching as assistants performed test after test with an anesthesiologist monitoring viktor’s vitals. 
which probably didn’t matter because no one had any idea what normal vital signs for him were. 
“what’s magnificent and oh so stunning?” you comment dryly, and the doctor points to what looks like a set of lungs. but they looked almost alien. 
“the lungs! It looks like there’s a resonating chamber. think like a whale using vibrations to make its calls and noises throughout its skull. except instead of its entire skull, this creature uses only its lungs! it also has a larynx, much like a whale, so i’d imagine it makes similar noises. if only i could dissect the thing!”
“absolutely not.” you snap, and the doctor holds up her hands in defense.
“mr. leroy was very insistent that the specimen not be harmed. don’t worry, i won’t break that promise.” you pointedly ignored the whole “specimen” comment. though it did make you wonder. were they going to experiment on him?
testing went on for hours. during that time, countless discoveries were made. viktor was likely an omnivore, though leaning toward carnivore with those shark-like teeth of his. and while his bottom half was indeed fish (likely sturgeon like you had first guessed), he was distinctly mammal, much like whales or dolphins. 
did all merfolk have those kinds of teeth? 
did they all make the same noise? 
were they all mammalian? or were some more fish-like than dolphin-like?
you had so many questions. 
hours after viktor had been released into his enclosure, you snuck back into the testing lab with a swipe of your badge. while it would log that you had entered the premises after closing, you couldn’t help but be curious about what they had discovered.
you logged into the computer and typed in marcus’s access code—he had given it to you when he couldn’t be bothered with paperwork—and clicked on the file labeled “experiment neptunus.”
it pulled up hundreds of documents, and you were promptly overwhelmed.
so you clicked on the first file and found something interesting. 
something very interesting. 
it was a picture. but not of viktor. 
instead, it was of another merfolk, with her human half looking about seventeen years old with long blue hair and her fish half looking long, black, and whiplike. she was unconscious, eyes closed and mouth hanging open slightly to show teeth even more wickedly sharp than viktor’s. 
what fish was she?
you scrolled down and saw some classifications. 
EXPERIMENT NEPTUNUS SPECIMEN #01 CLASSIFICATION: 
KINGDOM: Animalia
PHYLUM: Chordata
CLASS: Mammalia
ORDER: Caudata
FAMILY: Hominidae
GENUS: Oceanus
SPECIES: Homo Oceanus
since when had there been another mer in this aquarium? you had only seen viktor and had even seen maps of the place, so you knew there weren’t any other enclosures unless they were underground. 
was this mermaid a deep sea fish? 
did she not require light like viktor likely did? 
scrolling down some more, you found some notes. 
“tests have shown that the fish-like bottom half is that of a pacific black dragonfish. the specimen is exceptionally aggressive, as such is the nature of the fish. it will be transported to another oceanarium where it can be monitored further.”
so there was more merfolk out there. and silco did know about them already.
just what was he planning?
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There were a lot of instances, really, that could be considered their "first kiss." A look at some moments that might, depending on your perspective, count as Jon and Martin's first kiss. For the Jonmartin week day 1 prompt "First Kiss" - Updates one chapter a day, every day of Jonmartin Week.
Chapter 7 of my fic for the @jonmartinweek day one prompt "First Kiss" is up now! Another short one today - just a little bit of MAG 159 angst.
The wind whipped at Jon, tipped with salt that made his face sting and his eyes prickle, tearing the words from his lips as he wandered the empty beach shouting Martin’s name. He could smell the sea, briny and cold, and hear the gentle sound waves breaking against a shore, but no matter how far he walked, it never seemed to grow any closer or any farther, and he never saw it. The only thing he ever saw were the endless sea-smoothed pebbles under his feet, and the fog.
And, finally, Martin.
“Martin!”
“Jon?”
“I – I’m here,” he told him. “I came for you.”
Martin didn’t react. His face was grey and empty as he asked, “Why?”
“I thought you might be lost.”
“Are you real?”
“Yes! Yes, I-I-I am. Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.” He reached out desperately for Martin’s arm, but Martin stepped back.
“No. No, I don’t think so.” He spoke so softly that Jon shouldn’t have been able to hear him over the sounds of the wind and sea, but his voice echoed through the fog as clearly as if he’d spoken the words directly into Jon’s ear.
“Why?”
“This is where I should be,” Martin said, and his echo repeated it endlessly – this is where I should be, this is where I should be – a terrible chorus of confirmation. “It feels right.”
“Martin, don’t say that.” 
He reached out again, and this time Martin didn’t pull away. He didn’t react at all as Jon grabbed the coarse, damp fabric of his coat sleeve and held it firm. He didn’t even seem to notice Jon was touching him. His eyes were blank and unfocused as he said, “Nothing hurts here. It’s just quiet. Even the fear is gentle here.”
“This isn’t right. This isn’t you.”
“It is, though.” Martin huffed a quiet laugh. For the first time, something like an emotion flickered across his face, but it wasn’t quite amusement. It looked more like surprise, as though he was observing himself from a distance and found himself curious at his own emotions.
Then he said, in that same awful, empty tone,
“I really loved you, you know.” 
Jon’s heart stopped. His world shrunk to a single point, and for a moment he couldn’t hear the wind or the waves. The only thing that existed was Martin – detached, grey, unfeeling Martin, beautiful Martin, courageous, self-sacrificing idiot Martin, who had loved Jon until there was almost nothing left of him.
Martin, who was fading from view.
The rest of the world came back to Jon in an instant. The waves were crashing in his ears, and the wind was whipping against his face, and Martin’s arm was evaporating from beneath his grip.
“Obviously he’s done something,” he heard himself stammer, “Peter’s done something to mess with your–” But Martin was fading fast, and Jon could hardly keep a grip on him. “Damn it!” 
In a last, desperate act, Jon grabbed Martin by his barely-corporeal shoulders and pulled him down, thrusting his own face up to meet him. He thought he felt the barest brush of Martin’s lips against his own before Martin disappeared entirely.
Then again, it might just have been the wind.
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twst-drabbles · 1 year
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Azul 20
Summary: There's a horrid scent filling his restaurant. It's coming from this new friend of yours.
(Eldritch AU time! Been a while! Be sure to send me your thoughts and gushes when you can. I love reading them.)
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There was a specific smell in the air. One that brings forth a memory of that overflowing trash right next to that seedy shop Azul trusted to hold all his magical needs, whether it be books or tools. For as dedicated as the shop owner was for their products, they never cared to clean the outside to make it more appealing.
It was the scent of half eaten meals, of tortoise shells with their insides picked out but left with only the unsavory organs. That thick, almost sweet-like smell that would clog Azul’s noise every time he would come by it. No shred of manners for public cleanliness.
Memory aside, this smell was threatening to permeate into his Mostro Lounge that he spent so much time perfecting. Who ever brought it here, he will not hesitate to throw out. It’s driving away all his customers and to lose even a single cent meant having to push back and rearrange his steady rhythm of renovations.
The scent was coming from that booth in the farthest corner. Right where you’re sitting at with someone else. All Azul could make of that person was their long strands of hair, both damaged by the sun and the salt of the sea.
“Excuse me,” Azul walked with as much authority as he could, but he couldn’t keep from covering his mouth to keep a gag at bay, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you two to—”
“Azul,” the unsaid command was present in your voice. Azul had to stop mid-step. “I’m talking with an old friend. It’s best you don’t come closer.”
You had your chin resting on your hands. The smile on your face was clear, with your eyes shining a sparkle that can only come with facing with the familiar. Are you really ignoring this disgusting scent? Friend or no friend, Azul does not care.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, dear customer,” Business comes first, coins come next, friendships comes afterwards, “You and your friend are disturbing this peaceful atmosphere with that horrid scent of your—”
“How…rude.” Your friend’s voice was slow, sluggish, as though their tongue was swollen and clogged their throat. “I don’t…smell a…thing…”
“Well, what you say doesn’t matter when nobody wishes to come in. So, as the owner, you will have to leave or I will have you thrown out.”
Often you give little to no signals of what goes on in your head. Any secrets he would wish to pry from just your gestures was an exercise in futility.
However, your disappointment was made clear to him when your face fell blank. You tilted your head to the side, and the sigh that you made had his stomach sinking through a pitfall.
The head of your friend snapped. They faced right at him, shoulders still in place, the skin of their neck, bloated and blue, threatened to rip right open. Where there should be eyes, there were millions and millions of tiny black tendrils writhing, caressing their swollen skin. Where there should be a nose was simply one big hole. Where there should be a mouth was a long slit cut vertically from nose all the way down their throat.
“Liars…should be…punished…” it pushed past its flap.
“Wha—!”
This creature leaped over the seat. Azul fumbled at grabbing his pen. Big hands, with fingers too long to really be called fingers, made to grasp his face.
The seams of your clothes fell apart at the chest. They didn’t rip so much as they just, fell open cleanly. All sound, the swishing of the sea, the gentle music playing, and even Azul’s own heartbeat, all of it was silenced.
The colors swirled, Azul unable to pinpoint the color of your clothes, your skin, your eyes. They were all lost to him. Something slipped out of your skin. Burst through. Like bone. Like muscle. Like warped light escaping a blackhole.
The lights flicked, but the ones nearest you burst in shards of dying light. You were lost to the dark.
“We’re not done talking.” You breathed out.
Light returned not a moment later after Azul fell. The silence faded, though the speakers were damaged with an underlying current of static and its disorientating skipping.
The creature was on the floor, its head crushed and split open, tissues soft like an old jellyfish. A complete and utter mess.
You, however, were clean. Your clothes were not out of place. No rips to be seen. You took a sip of your drink, as though there wasn’t a corpse on the ground near his feet. There was a smattering of black ooze stuck to his shoe.
“No need to worry,” you said, tilting your head towards the mess, “I’ll be sure to clean up as soon as I finish my drink. Be sure to look away while I do so. It’s embarrassing.”
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fishyfishyfishtimes · 7 months
Note
“unfortunately plesiosaurs, which were oceanic, almost certainly could not thrive in a cold lake in Scotland”
I know you didn’t say this, but while the temperature and size of the lake matter, its very possible the salinity doesn’t matter that much for aquatic reptiles except for buoyancy. I know from research (listen, i had a dream that made me curious) that sea turtles can do just fine in freshwater and they actually use freshwater to help dehydrated ones in rehab.
We cant be 100% sure how the late oceanic reptiles handled salt, but it wouldn’t be surprising if they handled it much the same by being good at excreting the excess.
I’m rather certain tumblr user transcyberism did indeed mostly mean the size and temperature of a lake compared to the open ocean! Loch Ness is pretty big, the biggest freshwater loch of Great Britain by volume, in fact, but you know, it would not compare to conditions of the sea in many ways. But, what I’m really focused on here is, I wouldn’t say sea turtles do just fine in freshwater? I hate to argue so firmly but a few sources indicate that sea turtles, while they can survive in freshwater for a while, suffer through quite a few bad side effects due to them being adapted to saltwater specifically and can even die prematurely due to long term exposure. Some sea turtles can survive in freshwater for years, sure… but I would call it just that, survival. Stress, a weakened immune system and even organ failure isn’t particularly nice! Using freshwater to rehydrate them seems logical, but it’s not a long term living situation. I don’t know if that’s the case for other marine reptiles, but it seems to be the case for sea turtles.
That being said, I agree on your last point! Extinct marine reptiles most likely would also have mechanisms to expel excess salt, yes.
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trulycertain · 3 months
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A slightly post-canon mer AU in which Astarion is still flirting desperately, trying to escape his master, and good with a blade. He just happens to have a tail. And a sea-devil sniffing around him for a deal. Tav/Astarion, pissed-off siren x baffled bard, three chapters? I think? This chapter is 10.1k.
Merfolk tend to be terribly offended if you call them “sirens” - how dare you. No, they protest, they’ve never drowned an idiot landwalker in their lives. They’re perfectly upswimming, reasonable citizens who only eat fish and perhaps the odd whelk, if it’s been a slow day.
Astarion isn’t one of those good citizens. The difference between a merman and a siren is sharp fangs, the distinct lack of a heartbeat, and a taste for blood. That and the whole singing thing. Astarion’s never been much good at it. Almost deaf to a good tune, as Cazador delighted in reminding him. Idiot boy. Tuneless, useless – no wonder you have to debase yourself for them.
Astarion wants to be numb to it, after centuries – that and the salt stinging in his wounds: the perfectly picked-off scales, blood trailing after him in the water as he swims. (Blood he can’t afford to lose. And the last thing he needs is a damn shark. Or, for that matter, a trail anyone can follow. Swimaway slaves are so very out of fashion.)
The wounds are low enough to hide beneath the surface; to pretend to be a pretty little legged thing, just a tad lost, in need of rescue. It doesn’t stop them burning as he twists to get between a couple of walls of rock, to take a shortcut to that one particular cove he likes.
Soon this won’t be a problem. Soon, land. Land, where Cazador won’t be able to touch him. He’ll crawl for miles if he must. He has enough pearls of transformation that he can run – run and run and run. Legs can’t be that hard, can they? Even the harbour drunks can just about use them.
Astarion breaks the surface, almost dizzy with the idea of it all; he inhales air sharply, even as his gills sting. He’ll have to get used to that, air. It will be all he can use, no water flowing through him, while he runs. He has some time yet: almost half a night before his master will expect him to return. All he has to do is get to his cache…
In his cove, someone is singing.
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bradandchris · 3 months
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Brad knew he was pretty. No news there.
…but was he AI pretty?
He didn’t feel real real. While there, Brad didn’t know how to feel real real in the first place. Did anyone know?
In the spirit of keeping it real Brad’s boyfriend Chris answered with a stark “No.” Chris then went on to explain not a single soul had a clue as to why we were all on this tiny planet hurtling through interstellar space at ungodly speeds.
After three seconds of pouted silence, Brad demanded to know once again if he was not pretty but AI pretty.
Chris said Brad was ‘as plastic as they come’ not after pointing out plastic was as real as anything else. “You want to get real real Brad? Just look at our oceans. Even sea salt was loaded with microplastics now. Nothing out of the ocean was safe. It was pink Himalayan or bust.”
Before Chris could go any further, Brad announced that he decided he’d ask their friend Becky when she got back from the taco stand. She was straight so could hypothetically give a straight answer. It wasn’t ideal but his boyfriend’s roundabout just wasn’t cutting it.
Brad then paused to look around. “Where was Becky anyway?
Chris replied, “Really Brad? Really?!?”
That’s when Becky sauntered up from behind Chris with a basket of fresh steamy tacos. She asked the boys for the last time if they were really down for eating all this given they were both out.
It was quite a spread and the meat had the same consistency as cottage cheese but it wasn’t Taco Bell nor its knock off Taco Bueno. It was some local man from Pennsylvania who made them. His name was Hanz Bergenstein. That stuck out to Becky for some reason.
Brand and Chris were very quick to respond. They were not up or down with the taco scene. Becky thought this might be the case.
Pulling her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose so she could make eye contact with Brad and Chris, Becky mentioned it was a good thing it was a Saturday. There was no way they’d be sitting next to a group of stuntmen from the Monster Truck Show tomorrow. It was one night only and always on a Sunday, Sunday, Sunday.
No one knew why the day of the show needed to be repeated three times when it actually occurred in the evening but that’s what presented itself. The Monster Truck Show never started before 5-5:30pm so the organizers wouldn’t be inclined to extend the truck rally and inadvertently cause a mass suffocation in an unsuspecting domed stadium.
As it was, everyone would get light headed just one hour in. The show of course was without a story line and absolutely terrible, but the fumes more than made up for it. Mix in the local beer, busty girls as well as some good ol’ fashioned Red Bull, and let’s be honest. It really didn’t matter what was going on. That’s a good time despite any controversy!
To that, Becky asked Brad and Chris if 5pm was technically still daytime. Brad pointed out it was a slightly delicate yes and no situation that included the whole daylight savings mess. That seemed like a lot to him for a casual day at the pool.
Chris agreed and then threw in a memo stating that spring forward/fall back thing just needed to die already. Becky said it was one of many horrifying things that would die naturally with the Boomers as they finally made their way out to which Brad and Chris replied a nearly automated “Here. Here.”
With that, the controversy tabled itself for another time. Becky then announced she needed to take advantage of the situation so she could get the stuntmen to take advantage of her. Flipping her hair in a tizzy Becky then spun a perfect 180 to showcase her taco basket to the heterosexuals. The three men let out a faint gasp.
Becky was real real real and felt real real real too. Before fully launching herself gaily forward into the world of straights, she paused to give Brad an answer to a question he had yet to ask of her.
“Brad, you’re not AI pretty. You’re REAL pretty! P.S. you’re REAL pretty too Chris.”
Awe! Becky was the real real deal!!!
And just like that, Becky was off like like her swimsuit in 45 minutes. It would take Brad and Chris a good ten to get theirs off mostly because both felt slightly bloated from smelling the tacos. It took four of those minutes just to realize the taco stand was only ten feet away. Madonna saved the world in that amount of time.
Obviously, tacos were evil.
What Brad and Chris needed was a tall cool glass or two of cucumber water. To Brad and Chris’ delight they gulped down three that day. Why don’t we say it was a vurrrry hot afternoon to every degree and leave it at that.
Mmmmm… cucumber.
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missskzbiased · 2 years
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Sunshine
Summary: Whenever you feel down, your best friend jumps in and takes you to the beach to cheer you up. It helps a lot but not when you know he won't be able to do it ever again. And Felix doesn't seem to understand that what keeps you happy isn't the beautiful sunset or the stunning sea but him. He doesn't seem to understand that he was your sunshine, that you loved him.
WC: ~2,5 K
Genre: Romance/Friendship, Angst (-ISH)
AUs: Best Friends to Lovers, Confession, Departure
Pairing: Lee Felix X Fem! Reader
Warnings: Language
Notes: This was inspired by a song called "O Leãozinho" (The little lion lol) but I think I missed my point half way through SUHAUHSAUHSAUHUHSA
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Too beautiful to watch.
Your hand instinctively reaches forward; fingers apart, not really helping you to filter the sunbeams, but allowing you to keep your eyes settled on the sea ahead. It was almost too ethereal to be real, and the ocean, seemingly aware of this fact, sang you a lullaby; waves breaking and dissolving to the sand with a rhythmic, fizzy melody. As if it wanted to join the party, the sky itself dove into the cold waters; waves glimmering with pink, purple and orange undertones and tickling your feet with white foam, as fluffy as clouds. It was a blessing, and yet, you felt cursed by it.
Cursed, because no matter how beautiful it was, there was something, someone, who pulled your attention away from the astonishing surroundings. 
Emerging from the sea after enjoying his swim, your best friend smiled brightly at you. His smile has nothing indistinguishable, you're fully aware of this. It's just a bunch of teeth, some pointy and some rounded, organized in a not-so-perfect line. It’s just a smile. Like any other one. Yet, it brightens up his face to the point that even the dictionary wouldn’t be able to use the right words to describe it.
If you were conceited enough to try, you would say that he was the personification of the sun, and his smile was nothing but a beam of sunshine warming up your heart as he made his way back to you.
There is something about the way his skin shimmers when he combs his fingers through his hair, getting some of the sticky strands out of his face, that makes you believe you're right. Felix holds the sun on his features. It has nothing to do with the fact that he is being framed by it from behind. No. It has to do with the fact that his tanned skin sprinkled with freckles reminds you of the sunset: Delicate yet vivid; colorful. It has to do with the fact that the way his silhouette becomes more and more evident as he wades out to join you reminds you of the sunrise, and how much you longed for it every day.
"Don't you wanna join me?" He raises his voice so he can beat the distance between you two, nodding his head to invite you to his side. 
This time, the brightness of his smile feels less like a ray of sunshine and more like high beams on a road at night, blinding you right before the collision. You don't have time to fully process his words. Before you notice, his accent hits you like a truck. It's not something new: Felix is Australian. Yet, this time you feel it deeper in your soul. You know it means that the distance between both of you won't be covered by a bus, by a visit to the classroom next to yours, or by raising your voice at the beach.
When you process his words, it doesn't make you feel any better. Maybe it's because his voice sounds muffled by the waves and by his pathetic attempts to hold back his laughter as he stumbles out of the sea. You can hear how far away he is already. Maybe it's because you can't answer his question honestly. Yes, I wanna join you. Maybe it's because even though he doesn't mean to be sarcastic, you can't help but feel the irony in his words rubbing salt into your wound.
Yes, I wanna join you. You want to say, but not as an answer to his question. Yes, I wanna join you. You want to say, but you regret not being able to; not having an acceptance letter to do so. Yes, I wanna join you.
You feel compelled to laugh it off, but the reality setting in crushes your will to do so. Yes, I wanna join you. You want to say it, you really do. Instead, you offer him a wry smile and huff to simulate some kind of amusement.
  "I'm sorry," He says immediately, face dropping to match your mood.
"Don't be" You mean it, but you also don't. It's a confusing feeling, and you're so lost in it that you can't find sincerity in your words, and neither can he, "We'll keep in touch" The reminder feels more like a way to reassure yourself, and the reassurance feels more like a white lie meant to make this moment easier.
You were never much of a believer, yet, you can't stop it at this point, so you keep telling little, white lies to yourself.
"I know" Felix keeps buying it every time, and you question yourself if looking for a part-time job in retail, exploring your talents, and keeping your thoughts away from him was a valid answer for your problems, "But I meant to distract you today, not to make you gloomier" He sighs heavily, shoulders dropping as in a way to translate his own melancholy before he sits next to you.
"You could wear a watermelon on the top of your head, and you still wouldn't be able to cheer me up" He snorted at your words, and this time his presence eased up the feelings gurgling up your throat, "I'll miss that stupid laugh" The corner of your mouth subtly turns into a longing smile.
"I'll miss your stupid jokes" He retorts, chuckling while resting his hand on top of yours and squeezing it to show you that he was still there, with you.
"I'll miss having someone to laugh at my stupid jokes" You confess, and the air coming out of your nose sounds more like a fart than a snort. You exchange a surprised look before laughing whole-heartedly at the situation, but you don't tell him your stuffy nose is due to you crying over his departure since this morning, "Or at me" You bump your shoulder on his, causing him to return the gesture to show you some appreciation.
The silence following your bantering feels heavier than one would expect, and somehow it also feels lighter than you expected. It feels like there is no need to fill the air with empty words, yet you yearn for something to be said. It feels like your best friend is leaving your side forever, and there are no words to fit in the room, yet there are too many unspoken words. It feels like this silence is the last thing you will share with him, and you want to cherish this moment as much as you want it to end. It feels like trying to break the ice will melt his presence away. It feels like nothing, yet it feels like too much; Comfortable, yet awkward. It feels like intimacy. It feels like being strangers. It feels like everything falling apart.
All feelings you don't want to name.
"I'll miss you," He says effortlessly, but it doesn't quite put a tag on your feelings for him so, instead of saying it back, you hum in answer. He notices it, and you suppose he doesn't like it one bit as he adds incisively: "A lot", He tries to capture your eyes in his but you're not like Felix. You can't help but shy away from your feelings, so you fix your gaze on your feet, "I will miss you a lot" He repeats; burning your skin as he stares at you.
You wiggle your toes up and down, and the feeling of the sand sliding through them little by little reminds you of an hourglass counting the time you had left. Ten. You don't know why your mind starts counting it but parting from ten felt natural enough for you to question it any further. Five. The time runs too fast, but it feels long enough for the silence to grow thick enough that it's impossible to break. Two. The falling sand is either clogged up on your throat or your feelings are too overwhelming for you to share.
Time's up.
You purse your lips before sticking them out with a pop, sucking on the lower one and biting it as if it could buy you some time and strength. There is no amount of time in the world that could prepare you to confess it before. There is no amount of time in the world that could prepare you to confess it now. Not right before your best friend left for good. Yet, you want to say it. You want to be honest with him just like he had done with you so many times before. You want to face the sun and be kissed by its light. You want to kiss him. You want to say goodbye on your own terms; telling him that you will miss him too but not only that.
Ten.
You decide when to turn the hourglass around.
Eight.
It doesn't matter that the unspoken is suffocating, that you wish that time could go by slower and faster at the same time. 
Three.
"I love you" When you finally say it, time doesn't stop like it was supposed to do. The sea doesn't stop fizzling nor the sky stops diving. The waves don't stop breaking nor do the birds stop chirping. The passersby don't stop walking, and the clock doesn't stop ticking. It doesn't stop ticking. And the silence drags for too long once again; the ticking unbearable to stand but impossible to miss, "A lot" Your voice comes out strangled by your feelings, and the relief you expected to have washed over your turns into a bucket of cold water that immediately blow away any hopes your had left.
The moment his hold on your hand loosens up is the moment you know that everything is ruined, and nothing will ever be the same again. Maybe you were being selfish by wanting to finish it on your own terms. Maybe, you should have let him go away like this so he could come back. Maybe you wouldn't be crying right now, retreating your hand to wipe away the tears that insisted on falling.
"I'm sorry" You blurt out, even though you're not sure what you are apologizing for. The words hang in there for one, two, or three seconds. You find a reason to break the silence once again, "I shouldn't have said anything" You decide. That's your fault. Your feelings were meant to be kept a secret, "Forget that I said anything" You laugh, huff, and then sob before whimpering, failing to do the very thing you asked from him, "I didn't mean it" You lie, decided to do what you did best up until now.
"I love you too" For the first time, Felix doesn't buy it.
He hesitates to continue, and you can't help but say it for him: "But not like that" You offer him a bitter smile in response, "I know" You try to make things easier, looking straight into his eyes for him to see that there was nothing that could get between the both of you, but it only seemed to make things harder for you.
"I don't think you do" He disagrees, body detaching itself from the sand to twist in an angle that allowed him to have him facing you by mere inches away.
Then, you suddenly understand.
He didn't need to kiss you to clear up your thoughts but you would be lying if you said that it didn't help a lot. The way his lips found yours was gentle and caring but horrified at the same time. It made things awkward, yet, so tender that your heart almost burst inside your chest. The way he tried to mold his lips to yours was funny enough for you to laugh inside his mouth, but neither of you was discouraged by it. Not when his hand cupped your face carefully. Not when your fingers locked on his strands and brought him closer to you, getting both of you to fall back. 
"What are you doing?" He asks while laughing, burying his face in the crook of your neck to prevent himself from eating sand.
"I don't know" You admit, laughing along with him while combing his hair.
"I don't wanna go" He sighs, and you can feel him trying to hug you but failing, "Don't you think movies make things look so much easier?" He complains, and you cackle as he grumbles, getting up and sitting by your side, "This was awful" He snorts, pinching his nose's bridge and waving his head in disbelief.
"It was kinda cute" You pat his back for moral support, and he offers you a pointed look, "Okay, it was awful!" You give in, "But it's you, so I don't mind" You shrug, not missing the way his cheeks blush at your words.
"I don't mind it either" He mutters softly, and you wonder if he has been this shy all along. You hum in approval, intertwining your fingers together before pecking his lips, watching his face brightening up and his eyes turning into crescents, "But I wouldn't mind practicing a little more either" His crescents dissolve to give way to his wiggling eyebrows; his tone more suggestive than ever.
"Yeah?" You fight back your smile, trying to keep your teasing facade as he leans closer to you.
"Yeah" He practically purrs, lips finally closing the gap that was about to widen soon enough. However, this time it didn't worry you that much. The sun that was about to set would rise again someday.
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unsoundedcomic · 11 months
Note
Do Ruck, or other Senet beasts, like to eat any human foods? Or is that an oddity exclusive to Minnow and her cracker "snackrifices?"
A lot of them aren't able. Ruck gets sick if he eats anything but fresh meat. A little alcohol is okay but he can't drink enough to get a buzz, alas. Salt lizards and wand'ring roots can break down any organic matter you put inside them, and extract what they need. Waterwomen have fairly conventional digestive systems (even if you can see them directly) and can eat a lot of stuff. Long centuries of worship by both inak and humans have acclimated them to all kinds of sacrifices, from fresh infants and eggs to delicious raspberry cakes :3 The cakes do actually taste better, stop throwing your unwanted children into the sea!
If Minnow ever came to earth she would grow as fat as Yerta off Little Debbie swiss cake rolls.
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vwrtlz · 16 days
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The smell of sauteing mirepoix is fucking heavenly. This shit is about to Pop Off and I don't care that I'm only now finishing the prep work because hand cutting 9 pounds of onions would have taken forever no matter when I started and now I have half an hour before I can throw everything else in the pot and let it simmer till the wee hours of the morning.
Here's the recipe, with the numbering all kinds of fucked up because the original recipe I copied and pasted from was really poorly organized so I edited it and got too lazy to fix the numbers.
In lieu of a long-ass story about how I found this pasta recipe on Instagram (although it is a long-ass post, but hopefully it will be informative, especially for neurodivergent people who hate recipes) and decided it sounded insane enough to try. It takes a LONG TIME TO MAKE. It is EXTREMELY TEDIOUS. It is WELL FUCKING WORTH IT. Get used to me nutting about it, cuz the smell is filling my apartment as I write this and I'M AT HALF MAST just thinking about that first test bite.
For my spoonies in the audience of like zero people, you can save a lot of effort with a food processor and an instant pot but you still have to cut an entire bag of onions small enough to fit in the Food Hole™. It surprisingly doesn't use up *that many* dishes (big bowl for onions, small bowl for the carrots and celery, cutting board for everything, knife, tongs, big pot with a lid for the sauce, wooden spoon, small pot for the pasta, maybe a cheese grater if you buy full wedges) considering how much food you end up with (about a week's worth for one adult), and it's seriously unbelievably good. Imagine the rich savory chunky flavor of French onion soup, but instead of serving it in a hollowed out loaf of bread, it's served inside a million hollow noodles that soak up the sauce and also there's big hunks of beef that have been braised in onion juice for four hours until they literally part ways from the bones like a multistage rocket of flavor jettisoning its fuel tanks as it burns for Onion's Belt (that's a Food Pun).
Anyway. Here goes.
Pasta alla Genovese
• 1 1/2 Lbs of bone-in beef short rib
• 4 Lbs of Onions, Sliced
• 1 Carrot, Diced
• 2 Celery Stalks, Diced
• 2-3 Tablespoons Olive Oil
• 2 Cups of White Wine
• 1 1/2 Tablespoons, Tomato Paste
• 1/2 Pint of Cherry Tomatoes
• 6-8 Fresh Basil Leaves
• 1 Bay leaf
• 1/2 Cup of Pecorino Romano, Grated
• 1/2 Cup of Parmigiano Reggiano, Grated
• 1 Lb of Cut Ziti (or any pasta with a hole in it to soak up sauce, ziti can be kinda hard to find but regular ol' elbow macaroni is amazing)
• 1 BIG FUCKIN POT. (I've made a double batch that nearly filled up a 12qt stock pot, it starts out big and cooks down small)
1. Chop the onions, carrots, and celery as finely as possible. The more surface area we can expose, the more liquid will leach out to cook the beef and the more absurdly delicious the sauce will be when we're done. Using a food processor can save some labor, but it does just kinda Fruit Ninja the vegetables at random so it isn't exactly uniform. A mandolin slicer is also nice, but for fucks sake be careful with your fingers.
2. Cut the cherry tomatoes in half. Or don't and just mash them up against the walls of the pot while you're stirring.
8. Pat the beef dry and season well on all sides with coarse sea salt or kosher salt.
9. In a BIG fuckin pot, preheat on high then add enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pan, then add the beef. Once it's browned on all sides (give each surface about 1-2 minutes depending on how hot the oil is), remove the beef and put it somewhere else. I just use the cutting board. It won't be out of the pot for long, you just don't want to overcook it.
10. Add the carrots and celery to the pot along with a handful of your onions and sauté the vegetables until they begin to brown.
11. Add the tomato paste and stir it in. Tomato paste is apparently not traditional (sorry to all the people who speak Italian) but it increases the Visual Deliciousness. Then throw the beef back into the pot, stir everything together and once the bottom of the pot starts to get brown again, deglaze the bottom with the white wine. Then let that simmer until it's reduced by about half and starting to thicken.
12. Add a bay leaf, then throw in the enormous heap of onions and the cherry tomatoes. Season with a decent amount of salt, stir everything up, and pack it all down like you're making a delicious sand castle.
12. Let everything steam for a few minutes, then stir the onions up a bit as they collapse and release the juice. Give it a few minutes, then give everything one more stir, set the flame down to low heat and then set a timer for half an hour.
13. Stir every half hour for two hours.
14. Remove the lid and continue simmering and stirring every half hour until the meat fully breaks down (it will eventually separate from the bones by itself as you stir, but don't pull them out yet) and the sauce has thickened. It should look more like sauce and less like soup. If it dries out too much, feed it a little water at a time to keep it from burning. Taste for seasoning and adjust if needed.
15. After 4 total hours of cooking (at minimum, this follows Soup Rules. Longer = More Deliciouser) the sauce is ready to serve. At this point you can either remove the bones or leave them in the sauce to keep soaking all that delicious flavorful marrow. Usually by the time I'm done eating a massive bowl of pasta and rich meaty stew I'm in full Bear Mode and I just wanna sleep for 100 hours, so I'll just leave them in the sauce and fish them out of my bowl when I'm spending the next week eating it.
~The Next Day~
15. Cook the ziti. The original recipe has this whole process that partially cooks the ziti and then you finish cooking it in the sauce, but it's probably not necessary, and while I think the next step is also unnecessary and could probably be done ahead of time, I'm including it for the sake of accuracy.
16. Transfer about a cup of sauce per person to a saucepan and melt some butter into it. Once the sauce is hot, add the cooked (or if partially cooked, 7 ½ minutes instead of 9) pasta to the sauce. If you're doing the weird partial cook method, add some of the starchy pasta water and let it cook for another two minutes. If not, it's fine, you probably won't notice a difference. Just mix it all up until it's all hot, then slowly stir in the grated cheese. The slower you do it, the more thoroughly it will dissolve into the sauce and you'll be less likely to end up with a huge glob of melted cheese on the end of your spoon. Then again, I've never been upset to find a huge glob of melted cheese on the end of my spoon, so do whatever makes you happy.
N+1. Garnish with some basil. Eat.
N+2. Cream your jeans.
N+3. Tell everyone you know about this recipe, safe in the knowledge that your dedication to meticulous onion slicing will ensure that no one will ever try to make it and look at you like you're some sort of demented food witch.
Post-script: This is probably more of a "wintertime" meal, but it is also a very good comfort food any time. I'm no good at handling other people's grief and sadness, but this recipe is basically shorthand for "I will perform tedious manual labor until my hands and arms and back are sore just to create something that might make you smile for a few minutes" and my probably-autistic ass uses it as such. When in doubt, everybody's gotta eat, so it might as well be a home-cooked meal from someone who loves you enough to make it for you. Plus it's a thick, hearty stew-like sauce full of indescribably tender beef that you serve with pasta and melted cheese. It's basically liquid serotonin.
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Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Tim goes back in time to avert the end of the universe, but things quickly go awry and he’s left with an important decision to make: Carry through with the plan as he originally intended; Or make a risky play to change things for the better. Argothia’s Notes: There's a fight scene in this and, fair warning: somebody's arm gets dislocated. It's described but I was pretty matter-of-fact about it and didn't get particularly deep with it so hopefully it's not too off-putting. I blame watching too much pro-wrestling. Specifically I blame Bryan Danielson.
.
Technically, Alvin supposes, a shower and the most comfortable bed he’s slept on in six months isn’t the worst way to spend what might be the last night of his life. Technically. He found it rather difficult to enjoy it, being as he’s surrounded by reminders that he’s in the belly of the beast. Most of his night was spent considering who Ra’s would pick to be his opponent instead of sleeping.
Well, actually, it was more spent hoping and praying that the answer isn’t Lady Shiva.
Or Deathstroke.
Anyone else and he’s at least got a shot. Either of those two without plenty of time to prepare beforehand and he’s screwed. Incredibly, horribly screwed beyond measure. Thankfully they’re not technically part of the League. He can’t imagine Ra’s would put him anywhere near their level, at least not enough to call in a favor from them. However it’s been pretty well established at this point that Ra’s can still surprise him.
He takes a breath as he shrugs on the leather jacket and shoves his hands in the pockets. The change of clothes provided by the assassins isn’t bad, though he does feel it’s not really his style. Just a sensible, black turtleneck and a pair of black jeans. Pretty typical for the League honestly. He guesses it’s a bit like how nobody’s supposed to outshine the bride at a wedding, nobody in the League can be more fashionable and extravagant than Ra’s.
A loud knock at the door makes Alvin jump and it opens without him even answering. Oxana glares like she’s disappointed he even exists. Fair enough. “Time is come, shadow. Follow me.”
And just like that the end draws near. He catches himself looking around the room like he’d spent years of fond memories here rather than just one night of anxiety. It’s almost funny how the threat of failure and death can make every little thing so significant.
He shakes his head and leaves the room behind. Tension builds in his chest as he follows Oxana down corridors and up a flight of stairs into the open air. The smell of salt water washes over him as he blinks against the harsh light of the morning sun. He pauses for a moment to look out over the Mediterranean Sea. Taking in everything. The way the sunlight plays across the water, the sound of waves crashing against the sheer cliffs of the island, the gulls crying overhead.
Depending on who he faces today and Ra’s’ mood this could be the last sunrise he ever sees.
With a sigh he starts walking again, following Oxana until she stops before an archway set into a white stone wall. She steps to one side and gestures for him to continue onward. So be it. He walks under the ancient looking arch into a large dirt floored arena. It almost looks like a mini Coliseum. Not much of a surprise considering the Demon Head’s penchant for spectacle.
Speaking of, Alvin lets his gaze fall on Ra’s who is standing under a sunshade on a raised platform at the other end of the arena. Almost more importantly, to his left already seated on an ornate chair, is Talia. Shit. Alvin doesn’t know if this is good or bad for his plans. Frankly it might not be either just yet. There’s a hundred ways he could fuck this up and make it harder to accomplish his goal. If he can impress her enough though then that might expedite things just a bit. No point in worrying about it too much. He’s here and he’s going to have to deal with every challenge as it comes. All he can do is hope this goes as smoothly as possible.
“I do hope the accommodations were to your liking,” Ra’s says, his voice echoing with unpleasant sharpness around the arena.
Small talk to start things off. Of course. Alvin pulls his collapsed bo staff out of his pocket and glances around. No sign of anyone else. It’s… probably not a trap. “They were fine.”
“Good.” Ra’s takes his seat. “I have chosen your ‘interviewer’ from among the very best my organization has to offer. May he prove a proper challenge for you.”
‘He’, so good news, his opponent’s not Shiva. Which means things could definitely be wors--
Alvin instinctively jumps back as a figure lands in the center of the arena. As the settling dust reveals the figure that disturbed it Alvin’s grip on his bo staff tightens involuntarily. He hadn’t forgotten exactly that David Cain was with the League. No, but he hadn’t considered him an option. Cain’s talents aren’t the sort you’d usually assign to this kind of task. He’s the person you send when you want someone dead. Just dead.
Some part of Alvin wishes it had been Deathstroke instead. Not because Cain will be any more difficult to beat. Not really anyway. Alvin has some chance of beating Cain in a fight where he can see him coming. If only because he was trained by Shiva and with Cass. No, the greatest struggle of this fight is going to be staying calm. Cass suffered so much at this man’s hands. There’s not a whole lot of people Alvin would like to kill more in this world than David Cain.
He needs to not think about that and keep a cool head though, because Cain certainly doesn’t need any more advantages over him. A distinct weight advantage, years of assassin training, and who knows how many tricks – and weapons – up his sleeves are quite enough, thanks. Worse. This is the man who personally trained Cass. Alvin never beat her in a sparring match and she held back on him. Her father’s not likely to do the same. On the other hand it’s not like Alvin is entirely fucked here. He has fought Cass and Shiva, both of whom did beat Cain. With that, luck, and being ever so slightly more agile, maybe he can at least not get killed in this fight.
“This is the intruder that defeated so many of our assassins?” Cain scoffs as he looks Alvin over. “I’m ashamed to have not killed them myself. Tell me, Master, how badly do you wish this child beaten?”
“You may kill him.” Ra’s responds, casually. “If you can.”
Cain smirks and takes a knife from his belt. “Prepare yourself, boy.”
Great.
With a flick of his wrist Alvin extends his bo staff and moves. He barely manages to swat away the knife thrown at his head. Too obvious. From the right! Alvin swings around and blocks the much larger knife in Cain’s hand. Cain doesn’t even wince as his hand collides with the staff and immediately switches his weight to bear down on it. Shit. The last thing Alvin needs in the fight is to get into a shoving match with a man twice his size. This is a contest he will lose sooner rather than later.
Out if the corner of his eye, Alvin sees Cain’s left shoulder move ever so slightly. Shit shit shit! Alvin throws all his weight into spinning his staff, using the angle of Cain’s wrist to his advantage. With hardly any time to spare he manages to shove the larger knife away and slam the other end of his staff into Cain’s left forearm with enough force to actually make Cain flinch.
Before Alvin can follow up Cain jumps back out of range. He stands at a distance, glaring at Alvin and adjusting his grips on his knives. If Alvin had been even a tick slower the smaller of those knives would be making a nice little home for itself between his ribs. Not a pleasant thought.
Cain rolls his shoulders and frowns like he’s confused. Like he’s learned something he didn’t expect to. He gives the larger knife an experimental slash and looks Alvin over once more. “Who trained you?”
Interesting, that’s not a question Alvin really expected so soon. “A lot of people.”
“Oh, not interested in sharing then?” Cain takes a step to the left.
“Certainly not with you.” Alvin tries to keep his voice level, not as easy as he’d hoped.
Cain seems to take that as a cue that chat time is over and falls into a ready stance. He moves left. A feint. Alvin ducks under the inevitable attack from the right and slips around Cain’s side trying to catch Cain in the side with his staff. Cain throws himself sideways and forward rolls out of striking distance again. In seconds he’s back up on one knee with his knives held out defensively.
Stepping back Alvin watches for any clues to the next attack. Then Cain glances towards Ra’s as if asking for permission for something. He must get it, because all at once he puts his knives on the ground. They’re still within easy reach, but that he set them down at all is… weird. “How about we finish this fight without weapons?”
“Seems an unfair fight where I’m at even more of disadvantage frankly,” Alvin answers, keeping his guard up. “Considering there’s literally no way I can be sure you don’t have more weapons on you.”
“I swear, no weapons.” Cain assures him, watching Alvin carefully.
Oh. So that’s it. Cain’s trying to gauge how well Alvin can read him. Dammit. Alvin tries to ignore all the potential reasons for that and focus on the facts. The facts are that Cain’s not lying right now. Now can he beat Cain without a weapon… Alvin collapses his bo staff and stores it back in the pocket of his jeans, before shrugging off the jacket. He tosses it off to one side. “Fine.”
Cain stands up and starts to circle. Alvin follows suit. He can tell that Cain is studying his stances more closely now. No doubt looking for Lady Shiva’s training in him. It won’t be hard to find. He’s not hiding it. He can’t. Not if he wants to survive this fight. Especially now. He needs to rely on everything she and Cass taught him.
So he watches Cain just as carefully as Cain watches him. Every tense of a muscle, every sway, the shift in weight that tells on Cain before he moves. A strike from the left.
Alvin leans back as Cain throws a punch at his face. Uses the split second of time he has to judge the best course of action, drops into a crouch, and tries to kick Cain’s feet out from under him.
Cain jumps back just in time. Damn. Alvin gets straight back to his feet and almost immediately has to block another punch. This time he moves to trap Cain’s arm and tries to strike Cain’s chin with his palm. Cain blocks the strike with his own free hand and Alvin slams his knee into Cain’s side as hard as he can.
The satisfaction Alvin gets from hearing Cain his in pain is, unfortunately, short lived when Cain lifts with his trapped arm. Alvin barely hears himself say, “Shit!” as he barrels towards the ground.
He hears the thud before he feels the breath knocked entirely out of his lungs, it takes everything he has to maintain the wherewithal just to let go of Cain’s arm and roll away. He manages to get back to his feet on sheer autopilot. God, that hurts. Fuck. He can hear Cain already covering the distance he put between them far too quickly for his liking. But this could be an opportunity as much as it’s a problem. Alvin feigns being worse off than he is, he barely dodges a kick from Cain and falls backwards, kicking both legs straight into Cain’s sternum.
Cain stumbles back, coughing from the impact and Alvin manages to catch himself from another nasty fall by letting his momentum carry him into a handstand. He easily pushes off the ground and lands a couple steps back. Without taking even a second to breathe, he moves, he needs to use the time Cain needs to recover wisely. Slipping around Cain’s left, Alvin pivots and launches his full weight into Cain’s back. It’s just enough to do what Alvin’s been hoping to accomplish this whole time, knocking Cain off his feet. Even luckier Alvin lands on top of him. Wasting no time thinking too hard about his next course of action, Alvin grabs Cain’s left arm and wrenches it back.
For once Alvin’s weight is just enough to keep Cain on the ground and for all his struggling Cain can’t wrench his arm free of Alvin’s grasp. Which gives Alvin a… maybe cruel idea. He shifts his position until he’s sitting on Cain’s back, calmly wrapping one leg around Cain’s shoulder and tightening his grip on Cain’s wrist. Cain seems to maybe catch on to where he’s going with this because he tries to get his knees under him, but it’s way too late. Alvin takes a deep breath and throws himself backwards at full force. He feels the shoulder dislocate against his leg, the bone popping out of socket, the collarbone snapping like a twig. It’s honestly pretty gruesome.
“Fuck!” Cain growls, his voice betraying the amount of pain he’s in despite it all.
“I’ve seen enough.” Ra’s declares, without emotion. It’s a sound judgment.
The fight could continue. Cain could figure out how to roll Alvin off him and fight around a dislocated arm and shattered collarbone. He could do it very well, but he’d only be giving Alvin a chance to cause more damage. Alvin’s effectively halved his attacking power and given him a massive weak point to be exploited. It’d only lead to Cain being killed in this fight or rendering his arm permanently useless, making him effectively dead to the League. Ra’s is a master tactician, he’s not about to entirely lose a good operative in a random fight like this.
Alvin lets go of Cain’s arm and gets up, showing what he thinks is incredible restraint by not standing on Cain’s injured shoulder. Cain has a much more difficult getting to his feet. He manages it though. How good for him.
“Damn you.” Cain spits as he holds his limp arm at his side, breathing heavily.
“Get in line.” Alvin huffs, as he walks over and grabs the jacket off the ground.
Before Cain can come up with a witty response to that, Ra’s speaks again, “Tell me, Cain, has the boy impressed you?”
For a long moment Cain only glares at Alvin. Finally, begrudgingly, he responds, “He has, my lord.”
Alvin turns to face Ra’s, who looks satisfied. Almost smug. Alvin’s not sure how to take that. Then Talia says something and draws Ra’s attention away from the arena.
“You’ve stepped in it now, boy.” Cain sounds like he might laugh, despite the pain. “Lady Talia’s pissed.”
Pulling the jacket on over his arms, Alvin just shrugs.
“I’m not going to be available for her little project anymore because of you,” Cain continues, he doesn’t know it but he’s only given Alvin a plethora of good news. “Bit of… friendly advice, if you’ve made her your enemy, it won’t matter if that woman trained you, you’d best watch your back.”
Talia stands up and Cain goes quiet as she approaches. She doesn’t look at Cain, fixing her gaze squarely on Alvin. It’s abundantly clears she’s not happy with the outcome of this test. Stopping in front of him she looks him over with disgust and says, “You have cost me a valuable asset, boy.”
“So he’s eager to tell me.” Alvin tries not to act intimidated, the fact that the last time Talia almost killed him keeps playing on loop in the back of his mind is not helping. He’s never handled interactions with her well and this Talia? In the middle of her plan to seize power from her father and guarding her every move she should have afforded her son? The most important piece in Alvin’s current plan? This Talia terrifies him. “I’d argue I did you a favor.”
She narrows her eyes slightly. “Oh, yes?”
“If he’s so inattentive as to underestimate an opponent over nothing but appearances, then what good could he be to you, really?” He can practically hear Cain’s teeth grinding together somewhere behind him.
Slowly, Talia’s expression changes from irritation to contemplation. She looks over him again, slower this time. Assessing. Calculating. “…A wise observation. Still, be mindful, boy, one day I may yet seek recompense for this setback.”
“I’ll endeavor to make it up to you whenever you wish.” Alvin answers dipping his head slightly.
“See that you do.” Talia sweeps away with her usual elegance and Alvin fights to not visibly relax now that he’s away from her scrutiny.
This is good. He has Talia’s attention and she doesn’t seem to want him dead… yet. That’s a huge step in the right direction. She’s still an obstacle, but she can be reasoned with. It’s a bit more difficult to know for sure if things will go quite so smoothly with the more immediate obstacle who’s watching impassively as his daughter walks by him and through a back exit to the arena.
Ra’s gestures for Alvin to come closer and speaks to Cain as Alvin obeys, “Cain, you are dismissed.”
“Yes, my lord.”
It’s tempting to try and watch Cain slink away, but Alvin thinks it’s far more important to keep his undivided attention on Ra’s. Alvin waits for Ra’s to speak. And waits. And waits. It’s starting to get hot standing under the morning sun in mostly black and a leather jacket. He’s kind of certain that this is as much a test as anything else, though he’s not sure of what. How long Alvin can handle irritation? “So what now?”
“Patience – as you once opined to my assassins – is indeed a virtue,” Ra’s says as he picks up his glass of wine. He takes a long drink and then contemplates the remaining liquid looking distinctly uninterested. “I have seen now that you’re an effective and clever strategist as well as a skilled fighter even in unexpected situations. I am impressed.”
Potentially very good if it’s not a ruse for some reason.
“Consider this ‘interview’ a success. I am certain you will make a…” Ra’s seems to give his next word a great deal of thought before he speaks again. “Valuable addition to my League. Do not take it as an insult that I have you guarded for some time yet… You understand that trust must be earned with time.”
“Of course.”
“Then go. I will summon you in due time.”
Alvin acknowledges that with a slight nod and walks back to the entrance he used earlier. Oxana is waiting there for him. She seems a bit different. Her expression isn’t nearly as harsh as he approaches her. When he’s within a reasonable distance she speaks, quietly, “You fought well… I thank you for not dishonoring the names of my comrades further with a loss.”
Oh. He stops and stares at her. “I wasn’t fighting for them, you know.”
“I know.”
“…Okay.” He can work with this.
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saint--claire · 1 year
Text
Invitation to the Deep  - Term Glossary
Hi Everybody!
I was blown away by people’s interest with Invitation to the Deep, and to continue sharing the love (and because I’m a nerd) I wanted to continue the glossary in a more readable form.  The term definition overviews were really blowing out some of the end notes, so I decided to shuffle everything here, where I can make a nice tidy list.  It’s in alphabetical order per chapter, because to do it any other way would have annoyed me.
As I say in the story, please, please take everything you read with a grain of salt.  The story is fictional, some of the scenarios I put everyone in are blown well outside the bounds of plausibility.  I don’t specialize in diving, much less tec diving, and my marine license has been expired for a good few years.  Someone who has a metric ton of dive experience is J_Bailler, who wrote the outstanding ‘Thermocline’ in 2020, and whose technical experience inspired me to get my hands dirty with this fic.
I won’t continually reblog this post, but I will edit and update it each time I update the story itself, which will contain a link to this. 
**I am apparently now editing this post with the final additions of the story, only to acknowledge that many of us have now had a crash course in imploding submersibles.  I only have two main comments on this - the first being that I originally began writing and later publishing this story early this year, and the second is that the entirety of this story occurs less than a kilometer below sea level.
Chapter 1
FIFO - fly-in-fly-out.  Usually applicable for people working mines, oil rigs, or certain other trade jobs where the site you work on is highly remote.  You might work a 4-on-2-off schedule, which is where you’d fly out and work on site, staying in provided accommodation for 4 weeks, and then you’d fly home for 2 weeks before rinse and repeating.
LKP - last known position.  Think vessels (or submarine pods) lost at sea, or who’ve sent up distress signals before become non-contactable.
Lucet Tenebris - an entirely fictional underwater cave labyrinth set somewhere off the Indian ocean, near Indonesia.
Ring of Fire - Too long to explain in a post.   A very real and not made up geographical feature of the globe.  https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/ring-fire/
VHF - very high frequency (radios used at sea).
Yamaha - in this setting, a boat engine.  Noisy.
Chapter 2
Neoprene - The material wetsuits are made out of, to help people keep insulated and stay warm under water.  
Chapter 3
Fenders - big squishy things you put between ships to stop them damaging each other if they bump together.  Also used to stop boats banging into the wood/metal of marinas.
Chapter 4
Blood bent - a version of a slang term used to refer to decompression sickness (DCS) where pressure changes alter and form bubbles of the gases naturally inside human blood vessels.  DCS can often cause air bubbles to settle in and around major key joints and cause people to bend over in excruciating pain, which is how it got its name, the bends.
Embolism - In diving contexts, a gas embolism or an AGE would usually refer to a bubble of air in the blood.  This is really, really bad - it has the potential to shut off blood supply to major organs including the heart, brain, or lungs.  There’s no short or simple way to explain how they form, put if you look into barotrauma embolisms it’s a fascinating matter.
Equalising ears - Underwater at changing atmospheric pressure, water pressure bends the eardrum inwards.  You equalise this change by a variety of techniques, the same way you might in an aeroplane.  If you keep going deeper and don’t equalise your ears, you run the risk of damaging them or blowing them out completely.  Hurts like a bitch.
External airway - a measure of first aid and emergency resuscitation - if there is risk to an individual’s own airway collapsing or not being able to be maintained in the middle of an emergency scenario, intubation or an external airway implementation will be performed at speed.  An intubation tube is semi-rigid -the aim is that when you’re connected to oxygen, we want full confirmation that the air is traveling down the trachea and into the lungs, not stopping in its tracks because the airway’s collapsed.
Hyperbaric chamber - would suggest searching for a picture.  In a hyperbaric chamber, air pressure is increased higher than normal air pressure so a person’s lungs can pull in more oxygen than they would under normal circumstances.
Chapter 5
Klick - kilometre.
Neoprene ratings - Wetsuits come in varying thickness.  You might see them referred to as a 3:2 or a 5:3 or a 7:5 - this would indicate the material is 7mm thick over the chest and torso, 5mm thick on the arms and legs.  The thicker the material, the warmer you'll be.  The deeper you go, the thicker you'll want it!
Chapter 6
Buoyancy vest - also known as a BCD. It allows you to control your buoyancy in the water, allowing you to easily float on the surface without sinking under all the weight of your gear, and maintain neutral buoyancy while submerged (so you don’t sink further than the depth you are aiming to go to).
Dive computer -  a meter or device used by divers that measure elapsed time and depth during a dive, and use this data to calculate and display an ascent profile which will aim to prevent DCS.  Most will also monitor real-time ambient pressure input, some allow for gas switching during the dive, other features include water temp and compass info.
Gas blending - To dive at the depths of this fictional reef, you can’t just use straight oxygen or atmospheric air.  Gas blending mixes very specific concentrations of a variety of gases to create a breathable component.  It’s very specialised work and you have to undergo highly specialised training to do it.
Tec diving - I’m going to borrow J_Bailler’s explanation and hope she does not mind, which explains it far more concisely than I can.  The key differences between regular recreational scuba diving and tec diving:– scuba divers use air or air mixed with oxygen and generally stay at depths shallower than 40 metres.  Tec divers use various mixed gases to be able to go deeper and to stay there longer.  To breathe pure oxygen at deep depths can kill you.  Technical diving also includes cave diving almost as a default term, because you need advanced training to dive in an enclosed environment that has a ceiling.  In a normal dive, if something goes balls to the wall wrong, at least you can come up, whether you bend your blood or not.  In cave diving...
Trimix - Put simply, trimix is a blended composition of oxygen, helium, and nitrogen, used on deep descents.
Safety stops - planned stops as you reascend from the deep to decompress and allow your blood the chance to off-gas the excess nitrogen forming, and hopefully prevent decompression sickness.
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Cleat - The metal, wooden, or plastic part that protrudes from a jetty that you tie off a boat to.
S&S34 - A fibreglass monohull sailboat, primarily designed for cruising and racing.  For those of you who are interested or know the name, this is the yacht Jessica Watson sailed around the world in, at age 16.  
Hope everyone enjoys reading!  Let me know if there are other terms you’d like to see laid out.
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