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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter thirteen: black and silver

“Wow, what a story, honey.”

Sam had arrived into the harbor outside of Avalon right as the rains completely arrived, and she traded in a dollar for four quarters so she could call her mother and give a follow up as to what was going on with her. Once she had arrived at the harbor and took her back to her brand new house, Esmé thus treated her to a nice warm cup of a fusion of chai and black tea: it was tea time at the point anyway.

The house was a cute little cottage nestled in the low hillside that overlooked Avalon and most of the harbor right under a rouse of ponderosa pines and a palm tree: the small yard was decorated in small lush chaparral shrubs and bushes of bright pink pearly Catalina manzanita. Warm heavy wood lined the living room floor and the floor of the small but cozy kitchen; the wall behind them and the small comfy couch was a rich royal blue and carried a couple of framed photographs, one of which was Sam herself as a five year old girl. To the right stood the hallway which extended to her bedroom as well as the guest room and the spacious bathroom. Everything in that house was a warm amber or a royal blue, such that it reminded Sam of the shows in Boston and Providence.

“If I didn't know better, I'd swear we were in New England,” she confessed to her.

“Always wanted to live on Catalina,” Esmé told her as she lifted the tea bag out of the dark blue silver lined tea cup to ensure that it had completed steeping. “And I had a feeling you would like it, too. But the whole thing with Bill, though—that's—” She swallowed and Sam could see the agony in her face. “—I feel like I could've done something had you said something about it to me.”

“Well, see, that's the thing, though, Mom, is—I had no clue what he would do,” she confessed with a shake of her head. “He threw a glass at Belinda's head when they were getting me out of there. Missed her but he threw a glass at her, though! He actually locked me into the house at one point. The boys actually had to bust through a window just to get me out of there. They were about to go over to Germany, too—I'm glad they did because I know that man would've been furious about it. Surprised he never addressed it to me.”

“What's Germany like, by the way?”

“Beautiful. Just gorgeous—like Catalina or upstate New York but cleaner and a bit homelier, though. We were there for a week, and so Alex and I hung out for a full day together at one point. Went through the Black Forest and had authentic European beer on the train, too.” She dared not tell her mother that she left him there at the train station nearby the border to East Germany.

“I'll have to introduce you to him, though,” Sam told her as she held the cup of tea close to her chest. “He's really sweet, Mom.”

“As sweet as Joey was?”

“Sweeter. As kind as Joey is to me, I feel like there was something missing between us, like there needed to be something more there with us.”

“Did you feel any chemistry between the two of you?” Esmé asked her.

“Yeah, I did,” Sam replied. “But—I'm not sure how to explain it, though. All the touches and the little grins he'd show me—you've seen his crooked little smile.”

“Oh, yeah. Just like the man I used to know when your father and I were together at first.”

“Speaking of which... did you ever find him again?”

Esmé shook her head.

“I haven't seen him since your father and I got married,” she confessed. “And he was about to head back up to the northern half of the state, but that's—that's where it starts and ends, though. I couldn't exactly say where he had gone off to or what he planned on doing afterwards.”

The tag on the tea bag dangled off the silvery edge of the cup as she took a sip.

“Mmm—have you tried this tea, Sam? Locally grown. Practically everything here is locally grown and supported. We get things from the mainland, but it's rather endemic, though. It's especially the case over in Two Harbors.”

“This past summer, Louie and I took a road trip from the Bay Area back to Elsinore, and we went all along the coast, along the Pacific Coast Highway and the 1—and he showed me that one part of the Salinas River, right before it gets to the ocean.”

“Oh, I love that part of the state,” she told her, “all along the coastline. I considered moving to outside of Ukiah, right up close to the coastline up there but this place here on Catalina came up and it was an offer I simply could not refuse.”

“Nice little boat ride, too,” Sam added.

“Oh, yes. It's not often, though. Things are pretty self sustainable around here. I figured if it's really something that you wish for, like it's imperative that you return to the mainland, that's probably the one time you go across the Channel with the boat or with the sea plane. Some forty years ago, eight inches of snow fell on the mountain right over here.”

“Wow,” Sam raised her eyebrows at that.

“Yeah, you don't really think of an island off the coast of California as having snow,” Esmé chuckled. “But it happened. Hawai'i gets snow every so often, too, so does Seattle. And coincidentally, so does the Bay Area. It's nothing like Elsinore or the San Gabriels or northern Nevada, but it does happen every so often, though.” She took another sip of her tea and then shook her head and closed her eyes at the flavor. Sam took a sip herself: rich and subdued at the same time, and almost minty as well, and with a kiss of sugar to augment it a bit.

“Ooh, that's nice,” she remarked.

“See?” Esmé smiled at her and she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “So what are they like? The other band you're friendly with now?”

“Testament? They're dark but they're not like... satanic, though. They've got skulls and things surrounding them and their image, but I promise you, they're not satanic, Mom.”

“What are they called again?”

“Testament. I mean, it's even in the name. It should be indicative that they're not satanic.”

“Sounds more like they're about to preach a sermon of sorts,” Esmé confessed. “Like I think of the Old Testament.”

“Preach and give us what for—but not in the way in which Bill did with me, though. Their church is one of—guitars and hard fast music and having fun, too. Having fun with all of us ladies, too.”

Esmé laughed at that.

“Oh, god,” Sam declared and she picked out a delicate pink petit four from the plate on the narrow coffee table next to them, “one time—this was last summer, actually—we were all touring over in Boston and a few ladies were walking past us on the sidewalk and they called the four of us—Marla, Belinda, Zelda, and me—all satanic for hanging out with a bunch of metal boys. And Zelda was like 'yeah, a band called Testament is satanic!' and Marla and I both laughed out loud at that.”

Esmé herself chuckled in response to that as she held her tea cup up to her lips once more. Sam took a bite of the little cake in all of its light fluffiness, and then one more bite of it.

“What are they called again?” she asked her.

“Who, Zelda's band? The Cherry Suicides. It conjures the image of a human sacrifice—like a virgin giving herself up—or simply a woman stabbing herself in the chest.”

“So violent,” she remarked with a shake of her head.

“But that's what makes them so awesome, though. That same night, we were in Boston, and they were allotted right before Anthrax and Testament's sets. They did this song called 'Dead Witches', it was like a seven minute long jam. One minute of hardcore punk and then their guitarist Minerva just launched into this big long solo. Given they're a punk band, their songs are usually only a couple of minutes. But right there, they just showed that they're as a big of a power house as the boys themselves, too.” Sam sipped on the tea again so as to wash down the petit four.

“They're all real nice, too. These four tough looking chicks all the way from Providence, but they're so kind, though. They love their fans and they're easily some of the most polite people I've met.”

“They've been through a lot, too, you said.”

“Yeah, they have! All the break ups and the drama with the record labels and—” Sam shook her head as she thought about Aurora. “Long time coming for them, though. I hope I get to see them again.”

“You're gonna have to go back to the mainland anyways,” Esmé pointed out.

“Yeah, I promised Alex I would.”

“You said he's sweet.”

“Yeah, he is. He's funny—he's the kind of guy you don't really like at first until he finds a way inside of you. He's got this little bit of gray hair over his brow, too. He turned twenty back in September.”

“Twenty years old and he's already going gray?” Esmé gaped at that.

“He's been going gray, though,” Sam pointed out. “I remember him telling me about it but I don't remember the full details, though, except he's had it since he was like fourteen. When we first met him, it was like this little sliver over his brow and now it's this little tuft. It's weird, too, like it's just this little tiny bundle of gray hair on that part of his head, and just that part of his head, too. The rest of his hair is completely solid black.”

“Huh.”

“Aurora told me her—grandmother, I think it was—had something similar to that. No idea what causes it, either.”

“Maybe it's a birthmark. It's a long shot, but it is possible, though.”

“Could be, but—who knows, really.” Sam shrugged her shoulders. “He's been dyeing it, too.”

“Can't blame him,” Esmé admitted. “A boy his age going gray so early—you might as well keep your hair uniform.”

“He says it ages him.”

“And it does, too. I remember the very day your father initially went gray—and yes, it aged him several years. I remember the day I started going gray, too. Can't imagine how it makes him feel.”

They sipped on their tea in unison and the rain outside fell even harder on the rooftop and porch outside.

“I'm gonna assume the other reason why you moved here,” Sam started again, “and not the coastline is because this feels like the quintessential place to write a novel.”

“Exactly!” Esmé declared with a laugh. “There's only a couple thousand people here and no one to bother me, either.”

“Except me of course,” Sam pointed out.

“You're not bothering me, sweetie. You never bother me—if there's anything I can genuinely take away from you living so far away for a few years, it's that I miss having you around.”

“Well, even though I consider New York as my home, I can always ensure a trip out here. I might as well ensure that, anyways: I've got friends out this way.”

“So nice of them to bail you out of there, too.”

“Yeah, I mean—Greg got me out through the back window the first time around and we got down to Alhambra without sparing any expense. And then Eric literally busted through a window to get me out of that house. And then they took me to Germany for a week.”

“And you like the Bay Area, too.”

“The Bay Area is stunning. They took me to the place where Cliff's ashes are spread out—and it just felt like a—a—a pilgrimage of sorts. Eric showed me where he was from. Louie and I took a road trip together down the coastline.”

“And Alex took you home.”

“And Alex took me home, right,” she echoed, that time in a soft voice. “And he was in Aurora's wedding, too...”

Maybe she had in fact been far too hard on him as she sipped on the tea some more. She thought of him over there on the mainland, with the guys all around him. She hoped that, since she was on Catalina with her mother and not over there with them, that Bill would keep his distance from Reseda. She knew that he was far and away from there, and yet that fear still lingered over her.

At the same time, she began to think about Joey again and moreover, how in the world he managed to find a new woman to substitute her back home back East. The only way he would have found out is if someone back there told him, and as far as she knew, Louie never approached him once. In fact, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made to her. The only way she could even so much as find out about it is if she sought answers from the man himself, and it would be a little bit before she got to see him again in Long Beach.

That is if she could.

Afterwards, Esmé treated her to a bite of dinner at one of the cafes there in Avalon. Given it was raining, they retreated inside of there and shared a pina colada, even in the middle of December and a week before Christmas.

If nothing, Sam was glad to be around her mother again, even if Ruben was up in the Bay Area from that point onward. If nothing, it would be a rather interesting Christmas there on Catalina with all of the manzanita and all of the endemic plants about there, much like on her road trip with Louie: her mother joked about having a small palm tree in the front room of the house for the tree, although it made legitimate sense to Sam.

She knew that she would have to get used to the idea of having a split household from then on: divided over the entire state of California and she considered on returning to New York when all was said and done. However, she had her doubts about that, especially with Joey having his hands on another woman.

She took a warm shower to rid of the feeling traveling had given her and then she curled under the covers in her old bed tucked away there in the guest room. All the while she thought about Joey himself. She pictured him with his hands all over that other woman and she wondered if Frank genuinely saw them hold hands with one another or if he caught a fleeting glimpse of them and put two and two together. But she couldn't help it: she pictured him with a long and lanky supermodel, not a stubby little dark haired woman such as herself.

She rolled over onto her back and she wondered if he would return to her if she was a supermodel herself. Long narrow legs with big stiletto heels. The perfect hourglass shape to her body and her breasts so perky that no one could resist them. She could have the boys all to herself if that was the case with her.

If anything, as she thought about it more, she wondered as to why all of the guys even liked her in the first place because with every glimpse in the mirror, especially when she stood there after her shower and examined her nude body, she just saw a plain young woman with dark hair and dark eyes. She looked just like every other woman on the street as far as she could tell.

Nothing discernible as far as she could tell, either: nothing like doll-like features with Belinda or ever changing hair like Marla, or even something interesting like premature grays or having parents who hailed from both sides of the Korean peninsula.

And she bounced around with her weight as if it was the easiest thing in the world: but at least this time around, she was on the downswing. She glanced down at her body as it lay underneath the covers: the tips of her feet pointed up down at the base of that narrow mattress. She let her hand slide over the sheet, towards the right side.

She could still feel Cliff there next to her. She could still feel his presence, even with his smell gone away from her olfactory memory and even with the feel of his body vanished from the caress of her hand.

She could also feel Joey next to her. They were so close a few times. She actually got to put her lips around him not once, but twice.

And then, just like that, he went off with another woman all because she didn't resemble to a supermodel.

So many questions and all she could do was fall right into a dreamless sleep.

It wasn't until she awoke the next morning to the dense marine layer and the feeling Christmas was upon her when she realized she hadn't seen the mysterious man for months, as if he had vanished from her dreams forever.

After breakfast, Esmé drove her back down to the harbor for the next boat ride back over to San Pedro.

“I'll be waiting for you, sweetie,” she vowed to her as she held her in her arms away from the rain.

“No idea how long the show will be, though,” Sam confessed as she ran her fingers through her dark hair.

“I'll be waiting for you regardless of it, though.” She flashed her a wink and blew her a kiss before Sam boarded that little blue and white boat with her purse on her shoulder and her questions ready for Joey; she also had her explanation ready for Marla and Belinda, even though she had faith Alex had told them about it. She took her seat on the starboard side and peered over the edge to the gray ocean waters down below.

Twenty two miles across those waters and with the marine layer overhead, and soon the edge of California emerged in view: the coast seemed to extend on either side of them for as far as the eye could see. Sam thought about the Highway 1 on her road trip and how it all felt so endless and eternal at the same time, even if it was obvious the end of it came soon enough.

As the coast became clearer and clearer, she spotted that car in the parking lot before the dock. Even from a whole mile away, she recognized his tall body and those jet black curls. She didn't even have to see that little tuft of gray on his head to know that it was him there.

They reached the dock and Sam bolted off of the boat first and she hurried up to him.

“It's the damnedest thing, I can literally see you a mile away,” she told him as part of her greeting to him.

“You wanna know something?” he asked her as he set a hand on her shoulder.

“What's that?”

“I can, too. A mile out and I saw you peeking over the edge.”

“You could literally see me?” she chuckled.

“Yeah! Anyways, come on—the doors don't open until way later but—you know the drill.”

Alex drove her up to Reseda with nothing more than the side streets. He was silent the whole way and she could only assume that he had told Marla and Belinda what had happened. But she could only assume regardless of it all.

They reached the club in question and he parked around the back in the alleyway, much to where Sam thought she was about to bow headfirst into the dashboard in front of her.

“Sorry—I'm still trying to get used to it,” he confessed with a shrug. She let out a low whistle.

“Well, at least you weren't speeding,” she pointed out. He climbed out first; she followed him up to the back door there. All the memories of the Stormtroopers of Death tour returned as he held the door for her. She walked into the back hallway there, where two women congregated around Greg and his bass guitar. He nodded at her and Alex, and they both turned for a look back at them.

So he didn't tell them because they just got there themselves.

“THERE SHE IS!” Marla declared at the top of her lungs.

Belinda's snake pendant glittered under the pale lights with each and every step of the way. She threw her arms around her first and then she gaped at Sam. Marla shook her head and gaped at her.

“What the hell, Sam? Why'd you bail on us?”

She was taken aback at that. “I did?”

“Yeah,” Belinda followed up as Greg joined them there at the back door, “after you got the news that Joey had left you for another woman, you just sorta—went rigid and then you disappeared out of the cafe and just started walking up the road. We tried to get you back with us, but you were like 'no! I'll get there on my own!' Didn't even tell us where you were going, either.”

“Wow.” She slowly rubbed her hands together at the sound of that. “I—I don't even remember doing that. I can't believe I did that to you.”

“You must've just blacked out,” Greg explained. “Like it hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank.”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that yesterday after I dropped her off at San Pedro,” Alex followed up, “like—it sounds like she just completely blacked out.”

“Yeah, you were completely checked out at that point,” Belinda added. “I couldn't even get you to pay any attention.”

“Well, yeah, I mean—Joey is my guy. At least, I thought he was.” Sam stopped herself because the tears were coming back to her. “Did—Frankie give any more explanation as to why he went with another woman?”

Marla and Belinda glanced at one another, and then the former shook her head: her neon green hair shimmered about under the bright light of the backstage area.

“No, he just said, 'tell Sam that—I spotted Joey with another woman, and they look in love, too. Probably more so than the two of them.'”

Sam closed her eyes and bowed her head a bit.

“If we see him, we're gonna have a long talk with him,” Belinda vowed.

“The three of us or just me?”

“We'll help you,” Marla promised her. “Aurora's not here right now—obviously—so she's way out of the loop.”

“Push comes to shove, since he took your heart from you—we'll take something from him,” Belinda added.

“We won't go that far,” Marla told her off. “Especially since there's more than likely a good explanation behind it.” She fetched up a sigh and shook her head again. “San Pedro, you said, Alex?”

“My mom lives on Catalina now,” Sam pointed out. “Remember?”

“Oh, yeah, that's right! Okay, so you went to your mom's house.”

“And Alex drove you there, too,” Greg added with a nod.

“I was driving down yesterday and there was traffic on the freeway when I got to Bakersfield, and I was like 'ah, jeez.' So I took a detour all through some farmland and I saw her walking on the side of the road. I was like, 'is that Samantha? Oh my god it is!' So I pulled over and got her in the car with me and I drove her there before the snow hit the Grapevine.”

“Drove me all the way down to the docks,” Sam added in a soft voice; something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, and she spotted a man with his back turned to them. But she remembered his head of thinning black hair, still long and down past his shoulders. He was talking to Louie as she approached him from behind and tapped on his shoulder.

“Hey, Scott!”

“Hey!” He put his arms around her. “How've you been?”

“Been over at my mom's house—she lives on Catalina, now. Twenty miles off the coast.”

“Wow.” He raised his thick eyebrows at that. “So how's life in Elsinore? I heard some things about that.”

“I don't live there anymore. Marla and Bel got me out of there. I might find my way back to New York officially soon enough.”

“Cool!” He gave her a high five at that.

“By the way, how'd you find out about my living in Elsinore?”

“Marla. I saw her running down the street a while back and I asked her what was going on, and she told me to take her over to your old school—I was driving. She did some things in there and then she came back out and she told me what happened to you. She asked me to keep it between us and so I did.”

Louie raised his head and nodded at her.

“Hey—poison garden,” she greeted him. Louie hesitated and then he laughed at that.

“Poison garden!” He bumped fists with her and Scott looked at them both, confused.

“It's—a long story,” Sam told him.

“It really is,” Louie added, and then he laughed at something behind her. She turned for a look back at Greg and Alex with Marla and Belinda: Greg slung his bass over his shoulder and then he let it rest right onto his back.

“You're gonna do what Joey did, aren't you?” Louie joked as the three of them walked on over to that side of the backstage area.

“Nah—just wanna see what the crowd's gonna be like out there.” He poked his head out from behind the curtain for a better look out to the front row of the crowd: Louie and Alex joined in, as did Sam and Marla right behind them. They were met with a sea of heads, a few of whom near the front had little elephants on their sleeves. It took Sam a second to realize that those were the Republican elephants with their red make up and the little white stars on their feet. Alex had his eye on all three of them and he frowned at the sight of them.

“What's up?” she asked him.

“Yeah, this new album is definitely gonna be titled that,” he assured her. “Practice What You Preach.”

“This is bringing back all those memories of when we were first starting out,” Greg added, “we were playing in clubs up in the Bay Area. And there were a bunch of people who were talking about Reagan and we weren't having any of it.”

“Oh, yeah, it's definitely gonna have that title.”

The bunch of them backed away from there and Alex snapped his fingers.

“What?” Sam asked him, and he gestured for her to follow him. But he only led her to the little table tucked in the corner right behind him where he had set down a black backpack for safe keeping.

“I forgot to show you this, by the way,” he told her as he unzipped the front pocket, “—when I took you down to San Pedro yesterday.”

He flashed her a Polaroid photograph of a silver menorah on a table somewhere. All around the base stood a series of little yellow marigolds: each of the eight candles were lit with those pure yellow flames.

“Candles—lit for me?”

He opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by Greg singing off key to something. Alex turned his head in his direction as Greg slapped and plucked at the thick bass strings.

“What's all this?” Alex demanded.

“Nana na na na! Nana na na na!”

“Greg!”

“Huh?”

“What're you doing?”

“Sorry, I was just singing. We are getting paid to do this, you know, Alex.”

“True.”

The back door swung open again and Alex set a hand on Sam's shoulder so as to get her out of the way. Chuck and Tiffany stepped inside, away from the fine drizzle that began to fall over Los Angeles.

“I saw our pals from Slayer in the crowd here,” Chuck pointed out.

“Where's Slayer?” Sam wondered aloud. “Where's Slayer? Where's Slayer?”

“I didn't see them, either,” Marla added.

“They're there, though,” Tiffany assured them, and Chuck's face lit up at the sight of Sam.

“Hey, Sammich! C'mon over here. I got something to give you.”

“Well, it's from me and him both,” Tiffany corrected him.

“What is it?”

He kept his hand behind his back and he showed her a thoughtful look on his face.

“Close your eyes and hold out your wrist,” he told her. She did just that and she felt something smooth brush against her skin. He tied something right atop his wrist.

“Okay,” he told her, and she opened her eyes. He had given her a bracelet of black onyx beads and fire opal sugar skulls.

“Oh my god, Chuck, it's beautiful!” she gasped.

“It's a friendship bracelet. I got one, too!” He showed her the twin bracelet on his wrist as well and she threw her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she whispered right into his ear.

“And thank you,” he whispered back to her.

“Hey, if nothing, we can name our new album Poison Garden,” Louie joked to Greg and Alex.

“No!” Sam whirled around and she pointed over at Louie himself, and he lunged back a bit as a result.

“No?”

“That's 'not' to you!” Scott called out from across the floor and Marla and Belinda both cackled at that.

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askaphjamaica1962 · 3 years

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Hello, I've had this character for awhile but just got around to it.

Quote:

"Ha take that you fucking Russian loser commie. It must be so embarrassing, losing a winter game against a tropical country."

-Jamaica 1994 Winter Olympics after the team beat Russia.

HUMAN NAME:

Gabrielle Amancia Sharpe-Gordon

Gabrielle is the most popular name in Jamaica, the middle name, Amancia is a name of Jamaican origin and the two last names are after two of our national heroes, Samuel Sharpe and George William Gordon.

Born: Discovery Bay/Bahia del descubrimiento (it was the first place the Tainos settled and the first place Christopher Colombus docked.)

GOVERNMENT:

Unitary Parliamentary and Constitutional Monarchy.

FOUNDING DATE:

The island was ‘discoverd’ by Christopher Colombus on the 5th of May, 1494.

INDEPENDENCE DATE:

Was granted independence from England on the 6th of August, 1962.

MOST SPOKEN LANGUAGES:

NATIONAL: Jamaican Patois

OFFICIAL: Jamaican Standard English

She can also speak Spanish (since you know first colonizer), French and Dutch (from the Caribbean), Portuguese (Brazil), Russian (because of the close relations) and the language of her native people, the Arawaks.

Age: Appears to be 20 (did this because I saw a suggestion that countries that were colonised earlier, would be older), in term of Independence 58 and in terms of colonisation, 526 years old or between 1121 and 1111 since to me she was born soon after the Tainos settled which was sometime between 800 and 900 AD.

BIRTHDAY: August 6

HOROSCOPE: Leo

GENDER: Female (I did this because in modern and historical times, women have always had an important role in Jamaica)

ASSOCIATIONS:

CARICOM (Caribbean Community, was one of the four founding members, along with Guyana, Barbados and Trinidad and Tobago, in 1973.)

The United Nations (since 1962)

The Commonwealth (since 1962)

G-15

G-33

G-77

UN Security Council (temporarily in 1992 and 2001 was president in July 2000 and November 2001)

The organisation of African, Caribbean and Pacific States (OACPS)

Food and Agricultural Organisation

International Atomic Energy Agency

Non-Aligned Movement

Agency for the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons in Latin America and the Caribbean (OPANAL)

The organisation of American States

World Health Organisation

World Trade Organisation, etc.

APPEARANCE

Mixed. Quite a lot of her features are reminiscent of the Africans with some European and a small amount of Asian features.

HEIGHT: 5’5 or 165.09cm which is the average height for women in the country.

WEIGHT: 110lbs, or 49kg.

HAIR LENGTH: Mid-back

HAIR COLOUR: Medium brown

HAIR TYPE: Very curly hair, messy and frizzy. She always spends at least two hours, fixing it.

EYEBROWS: Quiet thick eyebrows.

EYE COLOUR: Medium brown

SKIN COLOUR: Medium brown

EYE TYPE: Wide almond-shaped eyes, averagely spaced.

FACIAL FEATURES: A very round face, high cheekbones, medium-sized pink lips and a wide, short nose. She also has a very flat forehead, reminiscent of the Tainos who used to flatten the foreheads of babies as they thought it would make them more beautiful, mouth corner dimples.

BODY TYPE: Lithe, bottom hourglass shape, C cup breasts, and a large bottom..

OTHER FEATURES:

Has an aheago on the right side of her head, shaped like what was left of Port Royal after the 1692 earthquake.

Has many scars all over her body from natural disasters and battles over the years.

Has very scarred hands, from slavery, one of the reasons why she always wears gloves.

Has small freckles on her knuckles from being in the sun a lot.

Has a long burn mark on her entire thigh, from the 1907 earthquake that destroyed the entire capital, Kingston City

Has a long scar from her right hip to her left shoulder, from the 1692 Port Royal earthquake

CLOTHES:

GLASSES: Wears half-framed black glasses representing Kingston Parish and the tendency of Jamaicans to only look at the short-term effects and not focus on the long term effects.

ACCESSORIES: Wears a small braided bracelet with the colours of her flag.

Tattoos: Has a large tattoo on her back of a map of Port Royal as a memorial.

PIERCINGS: Her left ear has full piercings (but she hardly wears them and they are the most recent ones. She was experimenting which is being done more in the country with piercings and tattoos.) and her right ear has two earlobe piercings and one in the inside of her ear. Also has a navel piercing. (It is one of the most common piercings in the country.) A nose piercing which is also quite common.

MILITARY OUTFIT:

FOR COMBAT: Full camouflage pants and long or short sleeves, steel-tipped, black combat boots, black wrist length gloves small, gold knob earrings, and either a beret (black or white), or a green sunhat or various other military caps.

FOR CEREMONIES: Black military cover, no earrings, red jacket with gold piping and gold buttons and a white belt with a leather and gold belt buckle, white wrist-length gloves, black skirt with one red stripe on the sides and black dress shoes.

THE WORLD WARS: As a colony of Britain during the time of the wars, she would have worn the same uniform. During both, she served in the Royal Air Force (RAF)

MILITARY RANK: Enlisted in the Air Wing, she is a Warrant Officer Class 1, which is the highest in the enlisted ranks.

In all of these outfits, her hair is in a tight bun.

CASUAL CLOTHING: Green spaghetti-strapped blouse, black short shorts, black sponge slippers, brown gloves, small cross earrings in her earlobes and a small stud in her upper ear. Hair is in a low, loose ponytail. Most of the piercings are in. She wears a gold nose ring

NORMAL CLOTHING: A green off the shoulder blouse, yellow knee-length flowy skirt, black flats, black gloves, small gold hoops and a small stud in her upper ear and two rings in her upper left ear. Her hair will normally be in a loose side ponytail, tied with a black ribbon.

MEETING CLOTHING: A green, knee-length tunic, with a yellow dress shirt underneath, black sandals with a small heel, drop earrings with a circular wooden piece. Her hair will normally be either down and loose or pushed back with a bandeau.

Or for more formal meetings:

A black pants suit with gold accents with a yellow dress shirt underneath and a pale green vest. Normally wears black wedge heeled shoes. Only small gold earrings are in of her earlobes, a gold watch and her hair is normally in a low ponytail with a black ribbon.

FORMAL CLOTHING: A dress, one inch above the knee, large, octagonal gold hoops and a small gold star in her upper ear, black wedge heeled shoes and black, wrist length gloves. Her hair will normally be braided with black and yellow beads.

PERSONALITY:

She is normally a very loud, kind and helpful person. Though, as a former pirate, she has quite a short temper and when angered, she will normally refrain from using violence unless you're Trinidad or got her really pissed. Unless it is something very important, she'll be angry for the most, a week, doesn't easily keep grudges. She is normally someone who prefers to stay out of international conflicts but will stick her nose into peoples’ business and involves herself in everything (stereotype). She is very good at lying, which is a stereotype, very athletic, competitive (will do anything to win, once it’s not illegal), a tardy person when it comes on to social gatherings, but will be at least two hours early to anything important, independent and very extroverted, confident, go getter, ambitious, Always wakes up at the latest 8 o’clock and spends at least one-hour jogging or walking, curses like a sailor, very petty.

HOBBIES:

Gardening/Farming

Swimming

Running

Writing Poems

Pottery or just arts and crafts in general

Playing music (her favourites are the drums and the guitar)

Practicing magic

Playing sports

FLAWS:

Stubborn and won’t listen to anyone. (this is from how Jamaicans refuse to ask for help, especially directions.)

Blunt

Judgemental, especially with sexuality and class

Nosy

Can be quite hypocritical

RELATIONSHIPS/FAMILY:

MOTHER: Arawak, the original settlers of the Greater Antilles

FATHER: She sees England as her father figure

SIBLINGS:

Cuba

The Dominican Republic

Haiti

Puerto Rico

I made these four countries siblings because they were settled by the same people

Ex-Husband: Belize. When she was a colony, Belize was joined together from 1749 to 1884.

The Cayman Islands and Turks and Caicos (kind of like adopted brothers since now they are considered a part of the Greater Antilles)

Friends:

Russia

Germany

Italy

The Caribbean

Canada

America

Italy

The Netherlands

Brazil

Spain

(those are the main ones. Is friends with the world.)

CHILDREN: Kingston City and Montego Bay City

LOVE INTEREST: Brazil (in recent years, they've grown much closer and she eventually developed a crush.)

RIVALS: Trinidad and Tobago (they are rivals in basically everything.)

OTHER: Has had a strained relationship with Grenada ever since the 1983 invasion.

In recent years, her relationship with America has faced a downturn because of disagreements regarding trade and climate change.

The relationship with China has also not been the best in terms of jobs and trade.

STATS:

INTELLIGENCE: 7/10

WISDOM: 7/10

STRENGTH: 6/10

WEAKNESSES: 5/10

CONFIDENCE: 6/10

WEAPONS:

A handgun

Sub-machine gun

A cutlass/machete

NATION INFO:

FULL NATIONAL NAME: The Commonwealth of Jamaica

NATIONALITY: Jamaican

CAPITAL CITY: Kingston City

WORLD LEADER/PRIME MINISTER: The Most Honourable Andrew Holness

HUMAN POPULATION: 2,969,736

LAND AREA: 10,991km2

FLAG COLOURS: Black, meaning the strength and creativity of the people which has allowed them to overcome hardships, gold represents the wealth of the country and the golden sunshine and green represents the lush vegetation of the island, as well as hope.

ALSO CALLED: The Isle of the West Indies

The isle of the Caribbean

NATIONAL ANTHEM:

Jamaica’s national anthem is a prayer, calling on God to bless and guard our country, and bless our leaders with divine wisdom. The playing or singing of the anthem always fills us with pride, whether it is at a school devotion, a national event or on a global stage, such as the Olympics, when we celebrate the excellence of our athletes.

There are also two other, not national, Jamaica Land of Beauty and I Pledge My Heart/ the School Song.

NATIONAL PLEDGE:

Before God and All mankind.

I pledge the love and loyalty of my heart

The wisdom and courage of my mind,

The strength and vigour of my body

in the service of my fellow citizens.

I promise to stand up for justice,

Brotherhood and Peace, to work diligently and creatively,

To think generously and honestly, so that,

Jamaica may, under God, increase in beauty, fellowship

and prosperity, and play her part in advancing the welfare

of the whole human race.

RELIGION:

68.9% Christianity

64.8% Protestantism

4.1% Other Christian

21.3% No religion

1.1% Rastafarianism

6.5% Others

2.3% Not stated

ETHNIC GROUPS:

92.1% Afro-Jamaicans

(incl. 25% mixed Irish Jamaican)

6.1% Mixed

0.8% Indian

0.4% Other

0.7% Unspecified

LIKES:

Sports (is freakishly good at them and is a fast learner)

Being with friends and family

Drinking alcohol

Food with flavour

Pottery

Brazil

DISLIKES:

France (because of what he did to Haiti, nothing perverted)

People making weed jokes at her.

Being bossed around

Dry and tasteless food

Line skippers (even though she’s one)

Anywhere colder than 13 degrees Celius

QUIRKS:

She is the only one who can hear the narrator

She also has the ghost of her former boss and famous pirate, Henry Morgan following her around.

Also has magical creatures around her that she talks to, mostly ghosts tbh.

FEARS:

Natural disasters. Even though they are quite common, she still fears the damage, loss of lives and pain that it will bring.

She fears getting to such a state where she has to be dependent on another nation too much as she is a very independent nation.

Most creepy crawlies

Green lizards

SHE IS A HEAVY DRINKER.

STRENGTHS:

She is a very creative person in both the arts and in general

Integrity

Persistence

WEAKNESSES:

Is legally blind without her glasses

Has no patience

Nosey

TALENTS:

Very good potter

Good at playing the Guitar and Drums

Good poet

Occupation:

#hetalia aph #jamaica #original art #original character

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marvinnnns · 3 years

Text

Outputs in Creative Writing and Creative Nonfiction

Creative Writing: Acrostic Poetry

“Marvin” by Marvin R. Ramiro

Marvin is his name, And nothing can compare. River flows like his emotions, Very warmth in his motions. In his good fairness, No words can define our closeness.”

Creative Writing: Spoken Poetry Manuscript

“You’re Not Just a Kid” by Marvin R. Ramiro

“Kid, you’re not just a kid.” That’s what I always hear in gossip. Rumors seems to have no right to socialize and adapt, Adapt to the elderly that we often get along.

Did you know that the youth is the hope of our nation? Nation where we became aware of the truth. Nation where many people go blind, Blind and incapable of expressing their attitude.

Speak up. Stand up. Prove to everyone that you have the care. Prove to everyone that you have the advantage, Prove to everyone that you are not just a kid.

Now that you are speaking, Now that you are standing. Let me tell you and remember this thing, “Kid, you’re not just a kid.”

Creative Writing: Time Travel Short Story

Image: Britannica

“The Moments in Sand-sinukob” by Marvin R. Ramiro

This is just a simple picture with the deepest meaning. Well, this picture was mean a lot to me. Like, every time I saw this place personally, I always remember the moments and memories when I was a kid. This place thought me to cry. This place thought me to laugh. This place thought me to learn. This place thought me to be friendly. And, this place thought me to be a good person/individual.

Creative Nonfiction: Writing Creative Nonfiction

“My Unforgettable Random Photo” by Marvin R. Ramiro

This photo has took on November 06, 2018, the most memorable yet precious day of my life. I still remember that, before this photo was took, there’s a lot of epic scenarios of what me and my friends did. This is the day where I started to host, my first ever hosting in our school called “G. at Bb. Kalikasan 2018″. Since it was our last year in Junior High School and I thought it was also our last year to celebrate my special day/year, I take that opportunity to invite my friends for my “epic” birthday party. Why it was epic? I already told my parents that I won’t invite anyone and I confronted my friends first that I won’t invite them because there’s no food to eat and all. And they’ve said that was fine. So, I think very well if how can I join them without my parents permission. I told them that if they bought me a cake, they all have the choice to come in our crib. But there’s a “scripted” surprise to believe. And when they started to came, my parents were shocked because there’s a lot of students (friends of mine) outside in our house and no foods to eat.

Every time I remember this photo, it always gives me happiness and more scenarios in my mind.

Creative Nonfiction: Biography

“How Cyrelle Adjusts to Her Parents Despite of Disallowing Her at any Point” by Marvin R. Ramiro

There’s a usual girl who’s pretty yet friendly but she’d never allowing her parents to go outside except when she’s going to school or with her family. Her name is Cyrelle Kristel M. Gabriel, a 17 year-old girl that’s the only thing to do is to make herself happy and to do something that she wanted to do. But because of her parents, she has doubted to limit her movements when it comes to life because she knows that it won’t make it happened. I’ve asked a bunch of questions to her about these things and she answered truthfully but limited. “Is there any time that you’ve got jealous because of that?” “Yes, as always.” “What do you think are the hindrances why they can’t allowed you to go with your friends?” “I guess that’s because most of my friends are boys, I think that[‘]s the main reason why they can't allow me to go with them and [since] most of my friends are boys [,] they always say that people might make an issues or think malicious things when they saw me hanging out with them and I know that they just care about what other people can say with them.” “What do you feel right now (because you have missed a lot of memories with them since it’s pandemic)?” “Of course I feel sad because I want to make a lot of memories with them. Especially right now in time of this pandemic I realized that I don't have a lot of bondings with them.” “What have you learned after all of these?” “I’ve learned that their actions in the past is for my own good because they just want me to be safe and do their responsibilities as parents. They just think about my security and what people would think of me and I know that they want me to be better and don’t take advantage from anyone.” After all these things, she is ready and willing to learn about life. She is ready to conquer all the struggles that given by God and she will always be grateful by that. She believes that’s all for her goodness and for her security. She will never get mad to her parents but she’s always grateful for that.

Creative Nonfiction: Autobiography

“The Author of His Own Life: Stumble” by Marvin R. Ramiro

One of the hardest thing when you are studying is that stumbling your emotions. let me show you my entire Junior High School life and how did I overcome my depression despite of bad things that I encountered. I remember when I was in Junior High School, it was grade 8 to be exact when I met my friends that I treated as my family. We’re happy, good, and all that I’d never realized that there’s a chance to break when we excel on a higher grade. After the school year was still great but there’s a fight between me and my friends. Well, I won’t deny that year was my most toxic self of mine. There’s a time that one of my friend was get mad at me in no reason and she try to convinced anyone to make me feel bad. They were mad at me and they didn’t pay attention to me and feel not belong. I’ve realized that I have to go, that I have to distanced myself. That time, I was feel depressed, anxious and all deep thoughts. I cried a lot that no one can notice -- I feel down. I’d prayed to God that what should I do? I felt down and I can’t do whatever I wanted to do. And I felt that God hugged me so tight and told me, “Son, you can do it. Don’t be afraid to stumble and get some wounds on your knees. I am here to guide you.” One of my realizations in life that God will always there for you no matter what happen. Even we forget to talk with him, He”s still willing to hear all of your rants about in life and reminds you how worth it you are.

Creative Nonfiction: Reflective Essay

“A Journey of a Simple Kid” by Marvin R. Ramiro

Being a student is one of the most difficult but most memorable thing in our entire life. Let me tell you my journey as a student. I remember when I was in kindergarten, since it was the first stage of education, I don't want to be left behind by my mother or our assistant every time I am taken to school. The school is just a short distance from our home but I don’t want to be left behind and if that happens, I will cry out loud like a tiger. Until the end of the whole year nothing seemed to have changed. When I came to elementary school, that’s where I started socializing and talking. Like ordinary children I also tried to play and make friends but I felt like an apprehension. It's like it's not me. I find myself more quiet on one side --- studying hard. When I got to high school it was as if the wind had changed. I thought more of I need to socialize with others and make friends. I got to the point where I seemed to be anxious for a friend’s presence. To the point that I always want to talk to and when they’re gone I feel very sad. That was the cycle of my entire Junior High. And when I’m in Senior High School, I’ve realized so many things that it’s fine to be alone sometimes, and it’s better if I’m not that type of person. Always the best will last. The important thing is that you are always willing to learn and not afraid to stumble and get wounds. After all these thing, you’re still free to run fast and good.

Creative Nonfiction: Travelogue

Image: ZuBlu

“Siargao: Let’s Know More About the Island” by: Marvin R. Ramiro

Biyahe in Drew is a traveling Documentary show with the host Drew Arellano. Today's episode is " Experience in Paradise in Siargao Island" one of the easternmost islands from the Philippines is the Siargao Islands in Straddles the maelstrom between the Pacific Ocean on the Philippine Trench off the Mindanao Mainland treating visitors to awesome waves that have brought joy to surfers from all over the world. Apart from surfing, there are many other things to do in Siargao. One of them is to take a trip to different islands. You need to take a boat to get to the island "Galatea" is the biggest boat you will see on the island; Galetea is good for 20 peoples and ranges in 10,000 pesos per day then you'll be able to rent this luxury boat for a whole day if you don't want, you can rent and normal and cheaper boat. Guyam Island, Dako Island and Naked Island are the nearest island that can u visit. If you're not contented in island hopping let's do some scuba diving!more than dozen identifying diving spots you can find around Siargao island like the Pansukian reef. Aside from course Filipino cuisine. Some hostels offer budget-friendly room that probably range from 400 to 300 pesos only. Even though Siargao is famous for surfing, you can't always surf. When the sea is calm and there are no waves the surfers do is skating skateboards so that they can maintain their surfing sensation. And lastly, there are some places to visit that you can't find in the surfing hotspot of General Luna you need to travel more than an hour to get to the place like Tayangban cave it is the a wide tunnel through which water flows. Another tourist spot that you need to visit is Sugba Lagoon like the Tayangban Cave which also takes more than an hour to get here. One activity you might like here is kayaking. Both foreign and locals are staying here not because of the beautiful island itself but because of the people very hospitable and they welcomed tourists will all their heart.

References:

GMA Public Affairs (2017). Biyahe Ni Drew: Experience paradise in Siargao Island (Full episode). Available at: https://youtu.be/ULNSFBK5c7I (Accessed: 03 May 2021)

#nonfiction #writing #creative

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jonroxton · 4 years

Note

Can you share with us some things you like about a friend in need?

:) sure

1. my tag for past-Xena is 'love her feral' and the reason for that is her journey to redemption for me is given (even) more nuance when the show explores her history (as the destroyer of nations, literally killing whole towns/villages) in a new meaningful way. yes, we've had this exploration before (her dynamic with callisto is entirely about this, and her emotional destruction with borias). what gives it new meaning this time is that xena is at peace with herself. she is fully trusting of gabrielle, both as a romantic partner and as her war general. she is willing completely to meet the consequences of her actions without the burden of her guilt. she is at her most evolved, I believe, when she makes the choice to pass on. I don't think it's said enough in fandom that xena wasn't just a bad person atoning. she was an awful, violent and megalomaniacal human being. what began as pure defense when she protected her village turned to something brutal and bloody. we're talking hundreds of thousands of people. In AFIN alone she killed 40,000 people. BY. ACCIDENT. in her rage and her recklessness. her unthinking. we know she can overcome these things because she is one of the smartest and most empathic warriors, but time and time again we have seen her choose not to. she knows right from wrong, she always had, but in AFIN her concern is simply about righting her wrong for its own sake, with what she's learned from gabrielle's spiritual quest for peace.

2. gabrielle's spiritual quest and xena's spiritual quest were always opposing forces within the narrative. the show always always explored how xena's violence countered and affected gabrielle's pacifism and vice versa. some of the shows best moments are when these roles are challenged in big (end of s4 with the ides) and small (xena's many skills are all considered peaceful, she's a physician, a seamstress, she has a lovely voice, etc) ways. AFIN is when the roles are no longer just challenged but fully reversed. it begins this way with gabrielle star gazing and xena miraculously joining her, joyful, sweet and optimistic, and gabrielle being the one surprised and alert, listening for intruders. AFIN ends with xena choosing the peace of death and atonement and gabrielle deciding having xena alive justified letting those forty thousand ppl suffer in eternal torment. it's bittersweet and even a little messed up lol but it's not out of the blue or strange that it happened. it's the culmination of the show's exploration of violence vs. nonviolence through xena and gabrielle in a way that condemns neither and honors both. and challenges both characters. so up until the very end of the series, they have agency and they have tough choices to make. that’s brilliant.

3. I love love loooove japanese samurai movies so a lot of the concepts and landscapes of the episode were familiar to me. im american so obviously can't speak to the samurai warrior's code or japanese culture in a meaningful way. what I understood from watching these films and reading books like myamoto musashi's book of five rings and sun tzu's the art of war is that the warrior's way is very different and much more introspective, quiet, solitary and dignified than the western/american way. weapons like katanas are much more spiritual in their very creation and they have more meaning in the hand of a samurai, and in AFIN even more meaning in the hand of a non-samurai warrior, a foreigner, an outsider. xena has been in this space all through the series, in her own way. similarly, things like death by suicide (called harakiri) and seeking honor through a swift beheading by the enemy who defeated you are all things that hold much more spiritual importance irt honor and retaining it than here in the west. in western culture, suicides and beheadings are all considered ignominious defeats. the ultimate proof of loss of dignity, pride and power. in japanese culture as I understand it, it is the exact opposite. so while many see AFIN as xena's defeat, it is actually the most honorable meaningful death for a warrior like her. at the hands of a strong, relentless enemy and for the honor of her soul. in AFIN she has reached a meaningful existence as a warrior and found peace in that life. in western culture, her death is a loss. but in the framework of the episode, it is an apotheosis.

4. it's one of the shows strongest episodes narratively and visually. beautiful to look at, full of expressive shots and wonderful acting. there's such resonance in this episode back to the themes and plots that made the show. it's about xena's past, as it has always been. it's about protecting people. it's about the warrior within us and the peace as well. it's everything that is great about xena writ small. xena and gabrielle don't physically get their endgame but they are together always. there's no separating them. I never saw xena's death as an end to that connection, especially not when the mythology of the series says that the dead can hear the living and that xena and Gabrielle are destined to meet again and again and again through resurrection. so we know for a fact xena will indeed be there, listening, guiding Gabrielle, and that they will meet again and have different roles. the show always played with these concepts and AFIN is no different imo. gabrielle has essentially taken xena iin entirely. she's the girl with the chakram now. the difference is that there's no burden of guilt, no self-loathing, no noise. it's a beautiful episode precisely for this dichotomy and bc it’s just a beautifully made episode..

5. XENA AND GABRIELLE KISS FINALLY OMFG

#mystuff #xena #FAM THIS EPISODE OWNS ME

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luvdsc · 4 years

Note

i luv the songs u put together for all your fics!! they’re so cute and a lot of them i haven’t heard of before LOL idk if that is me not knowing good music or you just having great music taste!!! if you don’t mind me asking, do you have any song or artist recommendations?

omg wait this is actually the ultimate compliment???? like I just !!!!! you like my music choices?? aaah, thank you so so much, sweetpea!!! 💗💗💗 I’m honestly over the moon at the fact that you actually listen to the songs I’ve chosen for each fic 🥺🥺 what kind of music do you listen to, honey bee? Who are your favorite artists, and what are your favorite songs? 💘

and I don’t mind at all, I’d love to give you some of my song and artist recs!!! 🥰✨ I highly recommend the entire discography of each artist I listed, but I put some of my favorite songs for each one 💕

updated — 12.27.2021

MUSIC IN ENG ;

maisie peters — sad girl summer ⋆ you to you ⋆ favourite ex ⋆ worst of you ⋆ adore you ⋆ personal best ⋆ maybe don’t (feat. jp saxe) ⋆ john hughes movie ⋆ outdoor pool ⋆ talking to strangers

chelsea cutler — what would it take ⋆ nj ⋆ lucky (with alexander 23) ⋆ cold showers ⋆ three words away ⋆ lonely alone (with jeremy zucker) ⋆ sometimes ⋆ emily (with jeremy zucker) ⋆ this is how you fall in love (with jeremy zucker) ⋆ sixteen

sasha sloan — version of me ⋆ older ⋆ thank god ⋆ runaway ⋆ chasing parties ⋆ here ⋆ dancing with your ghost ⋆ lie

lennon stella — kissing other people ⋆ pretty boy ⋆ jealous ⋆ bad ⋆ golf on tv ⋆ bitch (takes one to know one)

jeremy zucker — scared ⋆ always, i’ll care ⋆ orchid ⋆ we’re f****d, it’s fine ⋆ thinking 2 much ⋆ firefly ⋆ brooklyn boy

gabrielle aplin — magic ⋆ so far so good ⋆ what did you do? ⋆ stay ⋆ you don’t like dancing ⋆ please don’t say you love me

mxmtoon — fever dream ⋆ unspoken words ⋆ no faker ⋆ used to you ⋆ blame game ⋆ temporary nothing

troye sivan — plum ⋆ lucky strike ⋆ ease (feat. broods) ⋆ talk me down ⋆ heaven (feat. betty who)

lauv — feelings ⋆ canada (feat. alessia cara) ⋆ bracelet ⋆ getting over you ⋆ never not ⋆ superhero

jp saxe — blurry ⋆ sad corny f**k ⋆ 25 in barcelona ⋆ 3 minutes ⋆ hey stupid, i love you

hayley williams — sugar on the rim ⋆ cinnamon ⋆ simmer ⋆ watch me while i bloom

paramore — grudges ⋆ rose-colored boy ⋆ caught in the middle ⋆ brighter ⋆ fences ⋆ playing god ⋆ hate to see your heart break ⋆ escape route

coin — honey ⋆ simple romance ⋆ crash my car ⋆ hannah ⋆ heart eyes ⋆ malibu 1992 ⋆ it’s a trap

bad suns — howling at the sun ⋆ daft pretty boys ⋆ the world and i ⋆ maybe we’re meant to be alone ⋆ outskirts of paradise ⋆ take my love and run

hunny — everything means everything meant everything ⋆ a slow death in pacific standard time ⋆ parking lot ⋆ hard to believe ⋆ kicking cans

lany — pancakes ⋆ someone else ⋆ made in hollywood ⋆ yea, babe, no way ⋆ the breakup ⋆ if you see her ⋆ i don’t wanna love you anymore

all time low — glitter & crimson ⋆ basement noise ⋆ afterglow ⋆ cinderblock garden ⋆ life of the party ⋆ missing you ⋆ somewhere in neverland ⋆ backseat serenade ⋆ shameless ⋆ break your little heart ⋆ a daydream away ⋆ therapy

taylor swift — list here.

MUSIC IN KOR ;

taeyeon — time lapse ⋆ love in color ⋆ u r ⋆ stress ⋆ gravity ⋆ LOL ⋆ blue ⋆ baram x3 ⋆ starlight (feat. dean) ⋆ when we were young (cover) ⋆ more specific recs

jonghyun — white t-shirt ⋆ lonely (feat. taeyeon) ⋆ neon ⋆ aurora ⋆ suit up ⋆ hallelujah ⋆ just for a day ⋆ before our spring ⋆ our season ⋆ i’m sorry ⋆ diphylleia grayi

taemin — sexuality ⋆ pretty boy (feat. kai) ⋆ hypnosis ⋆ heart stop (feat. seulgi) ⋆ truth ⋆ play me ⋆ wicked

key — i wanna be (feat. soyeon) ⋆ easy to love ⋆ imagine ⋆ good good ⋆ this life ⋆ one of those nights (feat. crush) ⋆ hate that… (feat. taeyeon)

i’ll — my love, i still ⋆ are you there ⋆ you & i ⋆ to my dear

woosung — face ⋆ ilysb (cover) ⋆ you make me back ⋆ wolf

shinee — quasimodo ⋆ an encore ⋆ love sick ⋆ drive ⋆ beautiful life ⋆ close the door ⋆ excuse me miss ⋆ hitchhiking ⋆ honesty ⋆ your name ⋆ romantic ⋆ replay ⋆ body rhythm ⋆ kind ⋆ lock you down ⋆ drive ⋆ i want you ⋆ lipstick

(g)i-dle — luv u ⋆ oh my god ⋆ blow your mind ⋆ what’s your name ⋆ $$$ ⋆ what’s in your house?

itzy — cherry ⋆ that’s a no no ⋆ nobody like you ⋆ wannabe ⋆ dalla dalla

weki meki — moya moya ⋆ i don’t like your girlfriend ⋆ oopsy ⋆ stay with me ⋆ metronome ⋆ true valentine

f(x) — all mine ⋆ deja vu ⋆ x ⋆ boom bang boom ⋆ pretty girl ⋆ jet ⋆ love

tomorrow x together — ghosting ⋆ our summer ⋆ eternally ⋆ frost ⋆ magic island ⋆ roller coaster ⋆ 0X1 = LOVESONG (i know i love you) ⋆ LO$ER = LO♡ER ⋆ okay, their entire discography but also blue hour ep especially !!!

the rose — insomnia ⋆ i.l.y. ⋆ candy (so good) ⋆ she’s in the rain ⋆ california

day6 — you were beautiful ⋆ best part ⋆ 365247 ⋆ dance dance ⋆ love me or leave me

stray kids — voices ⋆ rock ⋆ question ⋆ 0325 ⋆ mixtape#3 ⋆ sunshine

individual songs — when i fall in love (primary feat. meego & suran) ⋆ hide and seek (suran feat. heize) ⋆ rainin’ with u (heize) ⋆ under the starlight (onew) ⋆ diamond (irene & seulgi)

#asks #anonymous #flowers #the cat meows

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kisilinramblings · 4 years

Note

I'm trying to figure something out about the miracle box. I think you're very intelligent and would love to hear your input. The five miraculous (Fox, Turtle, butterfly, Bee, and Peacock) are meant to symbolize the five Chinese elements, Wood, Fire, Metal, Earth, and Water. Which Miraculous do you think is associated with which element and why? I'm currently doing some research but the process turned out to be much more difficult than I thought.

Ah yes, it is a theory I have seen around since S1 and while I believe there’s a part of truth in this, I don’t think Thomas and his team have strictly abide themselves to the Wuxing theory when conceptualizing the five second-tier Miraculous there, thus why it is so difficult to clearly define which of these Miraculous correspond to which elements.

I mean, let’s look at the concept history of the two main Miraculous. Their concept wasn’t rooted the yin and yang initially but instead around the concept of good and back luck which later was changed for Creation and Destruction. And since opposite and balance seemed to go hand in hand, then their duality got linked to the Yin and Yang. Which then influenced the rest when the Quantic Kids concept was dropped to become Miraculous. At least, from what I know.

But an influence is not limited to one nor set in stone. Let’s take a look of the lower and last tier of the Miracle Box. While we do have the Chinese zodiac Kwamis, the power inspirations we have seen so far are drawn from diverse international sources coming from any imagery, legends, myths, folklores, superstitions, symbolism, litterature, comics, animation, etc. Xuppu and Longg are heavily eastern inspired, but Fluff takes their inspiration from the White Rabbit character in Alice in Wonderland. And Sass comes from the Ouroboros. Kaalki herited the power of Teleportation because horses were used for transportation for a were long time in human history.

So there are a lot of source of inspirations that can meddle here. Such why the fox, turtle, butterfly, bee and peacock as animal choice in the first place?

Let’s take a look at Gabriel (or whoever his counterpart was) in the pv version.

He has no mask, no superpower. His Miraculous appears to be non-existent at the time. But the image of the butterfly is heavily attached to him. It’s only later in conception his “animal” takes position in the Miracle Box.

So, I don’t think they have picked a particular animal or superpower because it invoke the Wuxing. There might be some relations but I don’t think there are any strict correlation to the whole Wuxing symbolic. For example, some of the color associated to the five elements such of the black and white were changed as they were already taken by the yin and yang tier of the box. And the order of said “elements” was probably altered so their color was more harmonious to the eye.

And it is perfectly normal as there a making a creative show aimed at children all around the world, not an academic essay or documentary about the Wuxing theory.

Anyway, I’ll play. Let’s start with the Wuxing itself. Please note that I rely on the informations of two websites for this. One in English, another in French. I’ve picked those two websites as the informations seem well summarized and categorized. This is merely an exercice and I don’t want to read and summarize massive amount of texts.

So let’s begin.

First, we have the Wood. Parts of its concept go with Growth and Expansion as the seed sprout out of the earth and spread itself in the sky in every direction in order to flourish. Apparently, in martial arts, the technique related to that element is to get out of the way of the opponent’s attack line and cover the space as effectively as possible.

The virtue associated to it is Benevolence.

Next, we have the Fire. It is related to Ascension as the flame is always rising, going upward. There is association to enthusiasm and passion as well. Anyway, for the Martial aspect, fire is associated to ascending movements as well as powerful and straightforward hits.

Its virtue is Propriety aka “ the state or quality of conforming to conventionally accepted standards of behavior or morals. “

Following up, we have the Metal. When it solidies or cool down, the metal gets contracted, concentrating its strength for the next step. It symbolizes Ambition and Progress which come with Determination and Persistence. When it comes to martial arts, the attacking and blocking moves associated to metal travel from the outside to the inside. Incisive hit are also included as part of the metal phase. They look for and aimed at the foe’s weak spots to exploit it.

Its virtue is Righteousness

Moving on, we have the Water. It symbolizes the transition between action and rest. Martially, it goes with pacification and taking a step back. So descending movements and backing off take integral part of the battle strategy like the wave which retreats... before coming right back at you.

Its virtue is Wisdom.

Lastly, we have the Earth. Earth can be extremely maniable (like clay) just like it can be extremely well compacted making it impossible to work with it. It acts as a bridge, connecting different parts. Earth feeds and protects, thus why it is associated with nurturing and security qualities. It’s also a stable element and the martial movement inspired by earth are that : grounded, unwavering. Take the hit in order to chain up.

Earth virtues are Fidelity and Honesty.

So, now that is is said, let’s proceed with how any of those elements (or should I say phases) matches with the Miraculous of the Miracle Box second tier which are :

The Butterfly - Power of Transmission

The Peacock - Power of Emotion

The Fox - Power of Illusion

The Turtle - Power of Protection

And the Bee - Power of Subjection (or Domination in French)

The Turtle seems the most obvious to me as it go easily with the Earh element. The power of Protection matches the fighting style described as Shelter is a defensive power perfect to take hits.

The Butterfly seems to go well with the Wood element. Both are about growth. its attended use is to give designated champion superpowers in order for them to fight back an oppressor for example. So, it gives the strength to the person to grow out of their weak stage (larvae) to become a more powerful and capable one person (butterfly). Also, the Power of Transmission requires a champion in order to work. Basically, the fundamental of the power goes with collaboration with another which help covers more than one front in battle. Thus why I think it fits with the Wood element the most.

I am tempted to go with the Metal element for the Bee. The Bee Holder only need one move to paralyze their foe. One move to bring your foe on their knees. And a sting is a bit like a sword. Plus, a bee hive is a good visual metaphor of progress and determination. The bigger the hive is, the most work it has required from its occupants.

Which leaves us with the Fox and the Peacock. My first thought was to associate the Fox with the Fire element while the Peacock gets the Water one. Mostly because mirages are produced by heat and peacocks are birds that tend to live near clean bodies of water and are heavily associated to that element, but that’s not enough symbolic. Plus, when it comes to Power and their usage, I find there is more sense to reverse that attribution.

Fire and Emotions usually go in pair. How the Peacock Holder fight is by using an emotion and giving it shape. The sentimonster -- which is fully obedient to the one possessing the “amoked” object -- will attack directly and with brute force. The Peacock also apparently has a symbolic of immortality... just like the phoenix.

The Fox Power of Illusion is more elusive. In battle, illusions buy time, distract and trick. And waters can be deceptive and give a false sense of security too. Thus why I think it fits more with that element.

So yeah, not that sure about the last two, but overall, there you have it.

#escape-reality-and-be-free #miraculous ladybug #ml theories #ml speculations #long post

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spooky-z · 5 years

Note

Can you talk about the characters of Childhood Friends? How will they be written.

Bro. You asked me a hard question. Like sit down because it's going to be long.

I will not talk about Mari, because I already made a post about her here. And Damian I'll talk in another ask because they asked me about him.

Adrien

He will not look anything like the canon. And I don't mean that here he'll be rude or anything. No. What I mean is that here, Plagg, as much as he remains focused on cheese, helps Adrien see the world more in color.

Not just the black and white Gabriel made him see.

So, when he receives the ring, Plagg becomes the ideal vision of a parent. Guiding and caring for him, even though his damn smelly cheese sometimes pisses him off.

So, in ChF, Adrien will be: rational. Pacifism does not help when a pathological liar is infiltrating his and his friends' lives.

Here he tries, even subtly, to help the class see Lila's lies. Helps Chloe improve, becomes a support for Marinette (in and out of the mask), just as Mari becomes his personal guardian angel.

As Chat Noir, at first, he took it as a joke. The first taste of freedom, a facet his father didn't know/couldn't control. As time went on and seeing how serious Ladybug was about defending Paris, he was also creating a sense of responsibility.

He considers the class his friends, but only trusts Marinette, Kim and Chloe.

(There will be a few more people, but I don't want to spoil too much)

Chloe

Chloe will have a canon-like redemption, but here she won't have to be Queen Bee first for this to happen.

With help from Adrien (and Kim), she comes to understand people and herself a little better. The fact that she uses Audrey's emotional abandonment, and André trying to plug her mother's hole with pampering her, will no longer be necessary after she finds support with her allies. (She won't call friends, please! Chloe Bourgeois has a reputation to watch out for)

As for her relationship with Sabrina, it also suffers good changes. Just as Sabrina herself will change too.

Kim

Marinette's best friend and the only one (childhood / family friends) who doesn't know about Ladybug-Marinette and Batfamilia yet, but who suspects something isn't right with them.

Do you want to know if he'll stay inside the secret? Yes, he will.

Marinette's trusted people will be inside the secret. Is it exaggerated? Maybe. But I'm a bitch for friends who share secrets and protect each other.

I'm not going to delve too much into him either, because I already talked about him in the post about Marinette.

Lila

Lila, as you could see in chapter 2, will be a little more... articulate. She's already horrible at the show, but here, I'll give her a basis for being that bad. I will also give her another reason to pursue Adrien, other than the fact that he is beautiful / rich.

Yes. She still have an obsession with him in this fanfiction. Just a little different from the show, because so far on the show I didn't quite understand how she feels about him. Here, I will make that clear.

She is the main "villain" of ChF. Yes, Hawkmoth is there, but as you noticed, I already started the story on “Volpina” and “Collector” so as not to last long with Gabriel-Hawkmoth.

Lila will continue to have a dispute with Marinette, as much as the reason (Adrien) is unilateral, because Marinette feels nothing but friendship/protection for the Agreste.

Even if Lila doesn't know that.

She really believes in Alya. (which I laugh a lot thinking about)

Caline Bustier

She'll find out she was anything but a decent teacher.

Alya

Dude...

Alya will remain Alya. Spreading stories without checking the facts.

But karma is a bitch, baby.

What about others? Who else will appear?

Caline Bustier, Lila and Alya will have the most salt in this fanfic. I won't lie, nor do I need to explain why, because I believe everyone knows.

About who else will appear, let's go first with DC:

In this au, Batfam contains: Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Selina.

Bat-Cow, Alfred the Cat, Goliath and Jerry the Turkey. Titus!

We'll also see: Louis, Clark, Jon and Connor Kent often.

From ML:

Basically all. Including Gina.

#sea talks #childhood au #daminette

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not-a-space-alien · 4 years

Text

Anniversary - or the Horsepersons realise they can get together outside of work

Hi everyone, I just realized today that I never posted my work from this past holiday exchange! Here was my entry, hope you enjoy!

Title: Anniversary

Rating: G

Word Count: 6k

Summary: The horsepersons are summoned for a second attempt at Armageddon, but soon an irritating pattern emerges.

A note about my illustrations: I trace stock photos for a lot of my basic shapes because I’m not good at that and really only enjoy the detail work and coloring, so I consider my “art” more like photo manipulation than original artwork, so just keep that in mind! This one is also partially based in TV canon and partially in book canon fyi

On DW

On AO3

“Who exactly summons them?”

“Not my department.”

************************

The department that did, in fact, summon the horsepersons was not Gabriel’s department, which was the Department of Earthly Affairs. Summoning the horsepersons, overseeing the signs of the end times, the rains of fish, and all that unpleasant business was a job that nobody really wanted. It was thought of as something Hell was supposed to do, but Heaven had to take responsibility for it, roll up their sleeves, and make sure it was done properly. It was shunted off onto whichever angels were unlucky enough to be assigned to the Department of Armageddon, which Gabriel had actually fought tooth and nail to leave.

The Department of Armageddon’s entire purpose was to prepare for the end times: to meticulously plan it out and ensure it went off smoothly. As these things tend to go, the least desirable job got pushed off onto whomever was lowest on the command chain, or at least the one too polite or too much of a pushover to refuse the job. And nobody really wanted to interact with the horsepersons. The DoA was filled with poor souls who had been toughing out a job they’d hated for six-thousand years. It would take a toll on anyone.

The reader can probably imagine that Aziraphale is less popular with the Department of Armageddon than any other angels, who unfortunately already find him quite annoying.

But this story is not about Aziraphale. It’s not even about Ambriel, the angel responsible for summoning the horsepersons.

No, this story is about the horsepersons, who lined up for Armageddon in the year of 1991 with great fervor and excitement, giddily straddling their motorcycles, finally able to run wild. The way that one had fizzled out was quite a disappointment to them all.

Adam had banished them for a bit, and that had been no fun, but it’s impossible to do away with Famine, War, and Pollution as long as humans exist. So they eventually reformed, springing from the minds of men and being unleashed back onto the world.

Somewhere in Europe, freshly spilled blood steamed and boiled, and War rose up, with blood smeared over her naked body like a newborn baby. In Asia, in a field covered by vultures feasting on the carcass of an emaciated cow, Famine sat up, looking around disoriented and missing his fancy suits. On the West Coast of the United States, Pollution washed ashore, having drifted for a while after being spawned from the Great Pacific garbage patch. They picked seaweed out of their hair and took a few moments to orient themselves. The last thing they remembered was staring down Adam Young. And as they realised what had happened, they thought the exact same thing their two companions were thinking at that exact moment:

Aw, man!

*********************************

In August 1992, the brave soul known simply as ‘the deliveryman’ had been contracted once again. The request was again from someone named Ambriel, by whom he had been contracted at this precise time last year, and for the exact same reason: To make four deliveries in various parts of the world to varyingly strange customers.

He didn’t really want to go, but it was his job, so there he was braving the quite literally riotous streets of a war-torn country scouring the chaos for a particular woman.

War had gone back to doing her reporter schtick, but it was starting to bore her. She was interviewing an American soldier as he prattled on and on, pretending to write it down*, thinking about what her next possible career could be. Probably somewhere in the American Military-Industrial complex, she thought.

*******

*She was currently drawing a sketch of him decapitated on the battlefield.

*******

This is how the deliveryman found her. He doubled over panting from the exertion of running up to her, but managed to wheeze out, “Package for you, Miss.”

War turned to him, an intensely puzzled look on her face. “What?”

“Package for you.”

War turned her back on the soldier. “You again? Aren’t you the same…. You have another package for me?”

He held it out. It was suspiciously sword-shaped.

“But... “ She took the package and unwrapped it. It was indeed a sword, long and shiny polished metal glittering in the harsh sun. “But this means Armageddon is near. Again?”

The deliveryman held out the signature pad hopefully.

She looked at him.

“I need you to sign for it, miss.”

“But we just did this.”

“This, ma’am?”

“Receiving our artifacts. Riding to Armageddon. The whole nine yards.”

“I do recall delivering this same sword to you last year. Afraid I don’t know anything about it, though. I’m just the deliveryman.”

“Are we doing it all again?”

“Afraid I don’t know, ma’am. I just need you to sign for it, please.”

War held the sword out in both her hands, seeing her reflection in its length. “That was one year ago today,” she realised. “A year was all they decided to wait? It took six-thousand to get ready the first time.”

Hope fading, the deliveryman stretched his arms out to full length to get the pen and pad as close to her as possible. “Just need a signature, miss.”

War relented and took the pen, ripping the paper under the force of her signature. The deliveryman looked a bit put off and shuffled away, unenthusiastic about his next delivery, which would require him to pick along an extremely dirty industrial oil field.

The soldier waited around to hopefully continue bragging about how brave he was, but War ignored him. She simply continued to stare at the sword. All she said was:

“Huh.”

***************************************

“Here we all are, gathered together at last.”

Famine was the one to made this proclamation. He said this to both War and Pollution, who were uncertainly standing around their motorcycles. This time they had been summoned directly to the barren field of Armageddon, which was, as it had been at this time last year, distressingly empty.

“Just saw you last year,” said Pollution. “Not quite ‘at last’ anymore, is it?.”

Famine gave them a dirty look. “Yes, well, it’s what we said last year. Seems only right to say it again.”

“They’re trying to make Armageddon happen again on the anniversary of it failing,” said War. “Is that what’s up?”

“It is significant, isn’t it?” said Pollution. “I was thinking about having some sort of celebration anyway. One year and all that. Seems like we should commemorate it somehow.”

“That’s stupid,” said Famine. Famine usually hated commemorating things because anniversaries and celebrations always seemed to involve good food and drink. Eat, drink, and be miserable was usually how it went for him.

“Anyway,” said War, “what are we waiting for? The Big Guy’s not here yet, but shouldn’t there be, I don’t know, some sort of preliminaries going on? Wasn’t there all sorts of wacky stuff going on last year, storm in the sky, showers of fish and all that?”

A figure could be seen spiraling downwards from the sky, wings spread wide. Pollution shielded their face with their hand and stared up past the sun. “Who’s’at?”

The figure revealed itself to be an angel, a jaunty figure with a halo struggling to keep up with his erratic motion, floating just behind his head as he ran full-speed towards them.

“And who might you be?” said Famine.

The angel huffed and puffed. “The name’s--the name is Ambriel.” He caught his breath and looked around at the gathering. “Where is Death?”

As if on cue, Death appeared with a small pop of expanding air. I HAVE NEVER HAD TO KILL THE SAME HUMAN TWICE, said Death. AND I DO NOT ENJOY THE EXPERIENCE. NEITHER DID HE. WHATEVER YOU ARE PAYING THE DELIVERYMAN, YOU NEED TO PAY HIM MORE.

“Pay?” said Ambriel. “Oh, that’s right.” He snapped his fingers, and the deliveryman’s bank account balance was suddenly a few digits larger, for all the good it would do a dead man.

“So your name’s Ambriel,” said War. “But who are you?”

“I’m the one responsible for making sure the horsepersons are present at Armageddon!” he crowed.

Famine craned his neck towards the empty, blue, peaceful, quiet, decidedly-not-Armageddon sky. Pollution kicked a rock through the soft grass. War scratched her head.

WE ARE HERE, said Death.

“But where’s Armageddon?” said War. “We don’t start it. That’s the antichrist.”

“Ah,” said Ambriel, sweating. “Yes, well, we’re still working on that. It was supposed to happen a year ago, you see…”

“Yes, you summoned us on the anniversary,” said Pollution. “Are we going to do it again?”

“Turn the seas to blood?” said War, shaking her fists.

“Unleash ourselves upon the planet until nothing’s left but bones and bare rock?” said Famine, a sparkle in his eye.

“Bury humanity in the consequences of its own actions?” said Pollution giddily.

Ambriel grimaced as the three of them crowded in on him, pumping their fists in excitement.

THE FINAL REAPING, said Death.

“Yes,” said Ambriel. “Um, yes, for sure, about that…”

The excitement on their faces began to fade.

“Well, you see, I’d thought everything would be ready to go by now. The timeline they gave me for re-setting the Armageddon fittings was one year! It should be well underway by now, but…”

War and Famine looked at each other disappointedly. “But what?” said Pollution.

“But they’re not done with the paperwork yet,” said Ambriel, crumpling. “There’s been delays and delays and delays. Our field agent won’t cooperate. Hell won’t cooperate. The other departments won’t cooperate. It’s a bloody mess!”

“That sounds like your problem,” said War. “What do you want us to do about it?”

Ambriel wrung his hands. “Well, I...I don’t know.”

War pouted. “All right, well, this was a bust, then.” She spun on her heel and marched across the field. “Call me when there’s some action for me, then, love.”

“Wait!” cried Ambriel. “Don’t leave!”

“I’ll be down by the river,” said Pollution. “It’s been looking a bit too clean for my taste. Too many local community day cleanups, if you ask me.”

Ambriel nervously stuttered as Pollution sauntered away in the opposite direction. Then he looked at Famine. “I suppose you’re going to leave me, too?”

Famine checked his very expensive watch. “Well, my flight back to America doesn’t leave until five o’clock, so I might hang around a bit and see if you can kick off Armageddon in the next two hours.”

*************************************

August 25, 1993

Pollution was the first one to show up this time, bearing a wine bottle and a little party hat affixed in their pale hair. They’d worn the crown this whole time, so their head was starting to get a little crowded on top.

War had kept her sword. It was slung casually over her shoulder as she picked her way across the empty field where Armageddon ostensibly was supposed to take place. Only Famine had returned his artifact to Ambriel, because he thought modern electronic balances were much more efficient and chic than traditional balancing scales anyway, and he stood waiting to meet her empty-handed.

“Back again,” said War. “I just got a letter in the mail this time, no deliveryman. You?”

“The same,” said Famine. “They’re lucky I got it. Our mail gets filtered pretty thoroughly before it lands on my desk. Pretty rude too, I had to drop everything to run on over...I thin heaven should start reimbursing me for the travel costs.”

Death popped into existence beside Pollution. Ambriel was holding onto his arm, looking frightened.

THERE, YOU SEE? said Death. NO NEED TO KILL ANYONE TO GET A MESSAGE TO ME. WE CAN SKIP THAT AND HEAD RIGHT ON OVER TO ARMAGEDDON TOGETHER.

“Right,” said Ambriel. “Sorry.” He straightened his tunic and marched out in front of the semicircle of horsepersons. “Welcome to Armageddon!” he loudly announced. “It begins now!”

“I don’t see any signs of the end times--” Pollution began.

“Yet!” Ambriel thundered. “They shall begin any moment!”

Pollution popped open the wine bottle. “Yay.”

Ambriel, his hands still raised dramatically, began to sweat.

“The paperwork still isn’t done, is it?” said War.

“The paperwork still isn’t done,” said Ambriel, shoulders sagging.

“Then why did you call us here?” said Famine. “Look, I’m a busy man. I run a corporate empire, you know!”

“I thought it would be done!” said Ambriel, wringing his hands. “We’re just… We’re waiting on our field agent, Aziraphale. He hasn’t turned in his forms yet, and he won’t answer my messages.”

“Should we go find this Aziraphale guy and teach him a lesson?” said War.

“A lesson about punctuality in filling out paperwork?” said Pollution. “Are you sure you’re the best one to teach him that lesson?”

“All right, all right,” said Famine. “Look, Ambriel, is there anything we can do to move things along? This is the third time in a row--”

“The second anniversary,” Pollution interrupted.

“--Right, thanks, White--the third time we’ve done our ride and gone to Armageddon. It’s starting to get a bit anticlimactic.”

“That’s his job, not ours,” said War. “Pfft. Black, what’s next? You want to tempt sinners to Hell? Reap souls after death? Who else’s job do you want to do?”

Famine grew red. “I’m just saying--”

“Well, whatever,” said War, slinging her sword back into the sheath strapped across her back. She hooked her arm around Famine’s head and gave him a noogie. “We can kill some time while Ambriel finishes preparing for Armageddon.”

HMMM, said Death. YES...SINCE IT SEEMS LIKE TIME IS THE ONLY THING WE’LL BE KILLING.

******************************

August 25, 1994

Famine kept his scales this time. Their home for the next year was the corner of his desk in his office on top of 666 Fifth Avenue, right next to his extremely slim computer.

Famine played with the chain, strangely delicate and cold, when an email popped up on his computer.

To the Black horseperson of the apocalypse:

Please meet us at the appropriate place at the appropriate time. The end is nigh. The four horsemen shall ride and the world shall end in fire and blood..

Famine started to type a response. But before he could, his computer dinged with a reply: all to the previous email, from [email protected]:

Can I bring a plus one this time?

A few days and a few thousand miles later, Famine trekked over the dry ground of Armageddon with his scales in hand. Pollution and War were already standing in the middle of the field, the exact same place Ambriel had appeared the last three years.

War had a demoness hanging off her arm.

“Ah, Black!” said War. “Just in time. I was just in the process of introducing my girlfriend, Ashtarte.”

“Call me Ash,” said Ashtarte. A smile, too broad and with too many teeth that were too sharp, spread Cheshire cat-like across her features. She wore a punk mesh top, red boots, and had a little pair of horns and forked tail, like she was trying to impersonate a Halloween costume of a demon.

“Uh, okay, Ash,” said Famine.

“The Black horseperson of the apocalypse!” said Ash. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Big fan of your work!”

“Big fan?” said Famine. He straightened his tie. “Thanks very much.”

“We met over cocktails in a little bar in Saudia Arabia,” said War. “Making fun of the same reporters.”

Ash held up her hand in a “V” pose.

“None of us have ever really, uh…” said Famine.

“Had a girlfriend?” said War. “You don’t know that.”

Famine fidgeted. “So you have had a girlfriend?”

“Er, well, no, not really,” said War. She hefted Ash onto her shoulder and flexed her bicep; the smaller woman fit snugly into her shoulder. “But you should try it sometime! Armageddon keeps getting delayed, so we might as well enjoy our time here, right?”

“But what’s the appeal?”

“I think he doesn’t understand it,” said Pollution, “because he can’t even imagine how to get a girlfriend.”

Death appeared stormily, his biker boots thumping against the ground a bit too hard. AND WHERE IS OUR SUMMONER?

“Not here yet,” said Pollution, fiddling with the wine bottle they held. “But why don’t we have some drinks first? Enjoy our time here, right?”

They summoned a card table from somewhere, and Pollution pulled up a seat and patted the one next to them in the hope of coaxing Death to sit down. Famine ambivalently sat down next to War, who had Ash on her lap.

WE’RE NOT HAVING A PARTY, said Death. WE’RE HERE FOR BUSINESS REASONS.

“Sit down, big guy,” said Famine. “Nothing wrong with loosening up a little.”

Death remained motionless for a few moments, tense with annoyance. Then, his biker leathers crinkling, he lowered himself into a seat. BUT I WON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DRINK.

“Aw,” said Pollution, popping the cork off the bottle. “Do you not like it?”

Death’s helmet visor reflected Pollution’s face impassively back at them as they poured drinks.

“Have you never drunk alcohol before?” said War.

Death didn’t answer.

“You haven’t, have you?” said Famine. “Do you want to try some?”

Death lifted his helmet off his head, setting it on his lap. Then he removed one leather glove, revealing his bony hand. The white stalk snaked out and curled around a glass, bringing it to his skeletal grin. The wine dribbled through his jaw and onto his leather jacket.

Famine grimaced. Pollution thought his jacket looked better with stains on it, but didn’t say so. They passed the next half hour in jovial conversation, the wine warming their bodies and lifting their spirits. Ash withdrew a deck of cards from her pocket, which entertained them as they laughed and joked.

They were all quite drunk by the time Ambriel arrived. He sprinted over at top speed, careening into the table. “What are you all doing?”

“We’re having a drink!” said Ash, waving her glass in the air and sloshing wine.

“Wh—” Ambriel took a second to look very confused at the appearance of a fifth horseperson, then shook it off and decided it didn’t matter. “Whatever! Get up, put this stuff away! Armageddon is starting!”

“For real this time?” said Pollution.

A second angel could be seen descending from Heaven. “Yes, for real this time!” Ambriel exploded. “The archangel Michael is on his way! Now get ready!”

War rolled her eyes and folded up the table. Pollution disappointedly retrieved the half-empty wine bottle, sipping from it as they walked over to Ambriel.

Michael touched down, his impressive dusky wingspan battering them with dusty clouds. “Ambriel, I was told the armies of Hell are gathering here, yes?”

“Yes!” said Ambriel. “The antichrist is coming. He’s on his way now.”

“He’s…” Michael looked over the the horsepersons. Famine shrugged. War examined her nails. Pollution continued to sip from their bottle. Death very stormily crossed his arms.

“He’s supposed to already be here,” said Michael. “I don’t see any of the signs of Armageddon…”

“I gave the antichrist Adam Young a very stern lecture about his role, and demanded he come to Armageddon,” said Ambriel. “And he said he was coming.”

Pollution cocked their head. “He said he was coming?”

“Yes. His exact words were, ‘Okay, Boomer.’”

Pollution choked, wine shooting out their nose.

***************************

August 25, 1998

“Can we meet at your restaurant next time?”

Famine turned to Pollution, the only other figure with him at the yet again empty field of Armageddon. “What?”

“The next time this happens, can we meet at one of your restaurants?”

Famine sighed. The first few times this had happened, he’d argued that they didn’t know there was going to be a ‘next time,’ but by now, the anniversary of the Apocalypse usually heralded them gathering to stand around for a while and not much else. “I doubt Ambriel would go for that. We’re supposed to be in this spot.”

Pollution shifted from foot to foot. “But the Newtrition corp has expanded, right? It has branches around here now. It wouldn’t be that far.”

“You don’t want to eat at my restaurant,” said Famine, trying to hide his shock that Pollution was so familiar with his franchise. He hadn’t thought any of the other horsepersons had cared about his silly little business. Although it was nice that someone was paying attention. “Why not?” said Pollution. “It seems nice. It produces lots of waste paper. And styrofoam cartons. Love those things.”

“It doesn’t serve actual food,” said Famine. “Just a bunch of nonsense. It has no nutritional value.”

“Well,” said Pollution. “We don’t actually need to eat, do we? Back in the forties, I went a good decade without eating. Too busy with the mills in Pittsburgh to stop and eat.”

Famine opened his mouth to deliver a snappy retort, only to find he didn’t have one.

“‘Course that was before I took the crown from Pestilence, so I was just a minor horseperson then. Well, my point is, it’s not like we’ll be affected by malnutrition. As long as it tastes good, right?”

Famine lit a cigarette. “If you want to look at it that way, I suppose.”

The rumble of a motorcycle filled the air, and War pulled up with Ash perched on the back of her bike.

“We can’t meet at my restaurant,” said Famine. “That’s inappropriate.” He wasn’t sure why the idea made him so uncomfortable, and he turned to greet War. “Red.”

“Black,” said War, dismounting. She put her bike helmet on the saddle as Ash fell off behind her. “Hey, you don’t have to call me ‘Red,’ you know.”

Famine stopped. “What?”

“I have a name.”

Famine bristled. “Whatever. Where’s that stupid little twig of an angel this time?”

“Geez, who pissed in your cereal,” said Ash, dusting herself off.

“I’m just getting a little tired of this!” said Famine. “I have to fly over from America every year in August only to be told to go right back home!”

Pollution opened a bag of crisps, savoring the grease. They looked disappointedly into the bag. “Black.”

“What?”

“Don’t ruin my crisps!”

“I’m not ruining your—” Famine suddenly realised he was ruining the crisps, because he was so damn frustrated by how inefficient Heaven and Armageddon and this whole thing was. He was used to running things like a well-oiled machine, and this….

“Black, stop ruining the poor kid’s crisps,” said War.

“You’ve never appreciated my work,” Famine snapped.

Ambriel chose this moment to appear. “All right, everyone!” he said. “This time I’ve really—”

“Black, I was very much looking forward to my crisps!” Pollution said.

“You all only notice how hard I work when it affects you!” said Famine. “I’m the only one putting real effortinto building an empire—”

“You’re the only one?” said Pollution.

Scared, Ambriel hid behind his clipboard, unsure of how to wrangle them.

Famine suddenly realised that War was gleefully egging on the fight between him and Pollution with her horseperson powers. “Red!”

The tension in the air immediately dissipated, and War slunk back, looking chastised.

His head more clear now, Famine smoothed out his tie. The booted footsteps of Death reverberated in the air before he made his appearance. AND HOW MANY ANNIVERSARIES IS THIS NOW? I’VE LOST COUNT.

“You’re late,” said Ambriel snootily.

Death turned to him. Even though he had no face to speak of, and still had his helmet on, everyone could clearly imagine the expression he would make.

“Seven,” said Pollution through a mouthful of crisps.

A second angel descended from the sky, this one unhurried, dragging its proverbial feet.

AND DO I HAVE ANYTHING TO BE LATE FOR THIS TIME? said Death.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” said Ambriel. “Because I have with me the field agent who was responsible for delaying Armageddon last time. So now he’s going to kick it off.”

A chubby angel with oodles of curly hair touched down, looking around guiltily. “Er, hello...I’m Aziraphale.”

“Oh, you looked nicer in a dress,” said Pollution.

“All right,” said Ambriel. “Let’s go, then. Go on.”

Aziraphale shuffled his feet.

“Don’t we need the antichrist?” volunteered Famine.

“The antichrist is unavailable,” said Ambriel icily. “We’ll have to make do without him.”

“Unavailable?!” exclaimed War.

“He means Adam Young doesn’t want Armageddon to happen,” said Aziraphale, who then shut up right quick at an elbow jab from Ambriel.

“You can make it happen without the antichrist?” said Pollution, crunching through a mouthful of crisps. “Thought was the whole point of him. So how does it work?”

“Ahem,” said Ambriel. “That is none of your concern. Just worry about your own part. Now, let’s begin.”

Ambriel stepped forward to direct the horsepersons. War kept looking up at the sky, noticing Armageddon didn’t seem to be happening. Pollution licked their fingers, other hand firmly stuck in their crisps packet.

“And now Aziraphale will--Aziraphale?”

While Ambriel had had his back turned, Aziraphale had scuttled off, wings drawn wide and flapping erratically like a prey animal running from a fox. “Ahhh! Get back here!”

Ambriel went off chasing him. War stood where she was, sword poised, and watched him go. “Um…”

Pollution finished their packet of crisps and dropped it on the ground, wiping their hands on their shirt. “Is he coming back?”

They stayed there for about half an hour waiting for Ambriel, and decided he wasn’t coming back. Ash sweet-talked War into hitting the bars after that. They managed to convince everyone but Death to come along, too.

*************************

August 25, 2001

“Hey, why does it take an apocalypse for us to get together?” said War.

Pollution picked idly at the tablecloth on the little picnic table they had summoned. They were trying to decide if ketchup or mustard would make better stains on it. “Hmm?”

War straddled the bench, picking at the picnic basket. “I mean, I know not everyone likes to spend time with their coworkers outside of work, but there’s nothing stopping us from getting together outside of Armageddon, right?”

Pollution stopped. “Hmm?”

“She’s saying she wants to spend more time with you guys,” said Ash.

“We can do that?!” Pollution said.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” said War.

Pollution’s eyes sparkled.

“Come sit down and enjoy this little basket you put together,” said Ash. “It looks lovely.”

The weather was fabulous, once again with no signs of the inclement weather heralding Armageddon, and a delicious breeze tugged at them and whipping waves through the dry summer grass. Pollution fished out some plastic utensils and set them out on the table.

Ash took a sandwich from the basket. It definitely had worms of some sort in it, but being from Hell, she was used to such things.

“Where’s Famine, anyway?” said Pollution, setting a pile of napkins on the table and watching them immediately blow away in the wind.

“Oh, he’s coming!” said War. “And he said he was bringing a plus one this year.”

“A plus one?”

“Sounds like he’s got a girlfriend too. Or boyfriend. Or what-have-you.”

Pollution scratched their head. “Wonder who it could be.”

With a rustle of grass, Death stood beside them.

“Come sit down!” said War. “We’ve been waiting for you!”

Death looked at them contemplatively. I DIDN’T RECEIVE A SUMMONS THIS YEAR.

“Huh,” said Pollution, letting their sandwich wrapper fall to the ground. “I just realised, neither did I.”

“Yeah,” said War, waving her hand dismissively. “But after doing this annually for ten years, I think we get the point, right?”

Death stood like a silent sentinel. Death was rarely the type to display any emotion at all, but to War and Pollution, it looked like he was fighting to not indulge in some unconventional display of sentiment.

A smile spread across War’s face. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

I JUST WANTED TO SEE IF I WAS NEEDED THIS YEAR, said Death.

“Well, Armageddon is probably delayed again,” said War. “So you’re not, really. You’re free to leave.”

Death stood still.

“Come sit down,” said Ash, patting the bench. “You’re always so serious.”

Death clomped over and swung his enormous legs over the wooden bench.

“Heard Famine’s got himself a new squeeze,” gossiped War.

OH, said Death. YES…

The grass in the field next to them dried up, swirling brittle pieces making a small tornado, and with a mournful nicker, a skeletal horse materialized. Its emaciated frame was oozing with dripping wounds and festering decay. Atop its back was a figure in a white robe with a long, beaked mask.

Famine pulled up on his motorcycle. “Fellas, good to see you again!”

“It’s been a very long time,” said the newcomer, although no, he wasn’t new at all…

“You brought Pestilence!” Pollution yelled. “He’s not a horseperson anymore! I replaced him!”

“Tsk tsk, you young punk,” said Pestilence, dismounting. “No respect at all.”

Pollution glared.

“He’s not here as a horseperson,” said Famine. “He’s my plus one.”

“That’s cheating!” said Pollution.

Pestilence winked, which was absolutely infuriating.

Pollution crossed their arms as Famine and Pestilence took their seats. “This looks delightful,” said Pestilence, taking a crisp from a bowl.

Pollution grumbled. Famine was a little disgruntled that they had set up a nice meal, but he muttered an echo of Pestilence’s praise.

“It’s just weird,” said Pollution. “It’s like you’re dating my dad.”

“I’m not your Dad,” said Pestilence. “We barely met before you kicked me out.”

“I think you just don’t like Pestilence,” said Famine.

Pollution bristled. “Maybe.”

Famine shrugged. Somewhere in the world, the minor horseperson of Awkward Interpersonal Issues felt their power surge.

“It’s because they’re afraid I’ll wrangle the job of horseperson #3 from them,” said Pestilence. “The anti-vax moms in the United States are making them nervous.”

Pollution’s cheeks went red.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” said Pestilence. “I don’t want to be one of the Main Four anymore. It’s quite dull. The humans’ attitude towards smallpox ruined the fun for me. Some of my best work, all down the drain. Feff.” He sipped some cola. “But you seem to be doing a splendid job. I hear nowadays everyone’s mad about straws, of all things.”

Pollution perked up. The atmosphere at the table was much lighter after that.

“Isn’t Ambriel going to show up?” said War. “Usually right about now is when he comes down, babbling about how Armageddon is really going to happen this time, and how we need to get ready.”

Pestilence scratched his head. “Ambriel? He’s the one who had to come tell me they were swapping me out for Pollution. He still works in the Department of Armageddon? Poor sod always got the worst jobs pushed onto him.”

Ambriel did, in fact, show up eventually. He had none of his usual bravado. He dragged his sandaled feet through the dirt and flopped down to join them at the picnic table. The four of them shared a look, then looked back at Ambriel. “Hey, kid, what’s wrong?” said Famine.

“Useless,” said Ambriel. “It’s all useless. Nothing I do ever works. No matter how hard I try, Heaven can’t get its crap together to make Armageddon happen. Oh, pardon my language.”

“Hey, cheer up,” said Pollution. “The first time we tried, the four of us got beaten by little kids with sticks and rocks. That’s way more humiliating than anything you’ve had to go through.”

Famine glared at Pollution. Pollution unwrapped a lolly, enjoying the crinkling of the wrapper.

Ambriel thunked his head on the table, groaning. “No use, it’s no use!”

“Well, we’re all having a lovely time anyway!” said Ash. “August 25 is my favorite day of the year now!”

“It’s supposed to be Armageddon,” moaned Ambriel. “It’s not supposed to be a celebration.”

War stabbed a little cocktail weiner with her Bowie knife. “We’ve been known to celebrate in unconventional ways.”

***************************

Present day

“1845.”

“No, that was you?”

Pollution sucked on their choco-whippy milkshake, eyes bouncing from War to Pestilence.

“Yep,” said Pestilence, leaning back, looking very pleased with himself.

“I thought for sure that was Famine,” said War.

“I wish,” said Famine. “I had been working in Ireland for a few years at that point, but hadn’t had much success.”

“Phytophthora infestans,” said Pestilence. “One of my favorites.

“He refuses to lend it to me,” said Famine. “Greedy bastard.”

“Not your jurisdiction.”

They all shared a hearty laugh.

“Oh, Pollution,” said War, snapping her fingers. “I just remembered. That science project we were talking about the other day, the bacteria that humans were cultivating to break down plastic.”

Pollution’s face screwed up in displeasure.

“I was working on trying to divert some of the NHS’s funding into more bioweapon applications. Maybe if you do me a little favor in return, I can get their funding pulled?”

Pollution nodded happily, sucking through their straw.

“Hey, here he comes!” said War, throwing up her hand.

Death strode over, standing at the edge of the table.

“Sit down,” said Ash, patting the seat. “We’re having a lovely time.”

I HAVE… said Death. If it were possible, he seemed embarrassed.

“What?” said Pollution.

I HAVE ALSO BROUGHT A PLUS ONE.

“What, a boyfriend?” said Pestilence.

NOT LIKE THAT…. said Death. He reached into his jacket and withdrew a small bundle of fur, which blinked and mewled.

Ash had stars in her eyes, putting her hands on her head as though to keep her brain from exploding out. “Is that a kitten?”

I FOUND IT OUTSIDE.

“It’s so cute!” said Pollution.

I HAD NEVER NOTICED THEM BEFORE, said Death. THEY ARE...NICE.

“Well, nothing wrong with enjoying the pleasures of the world,” said Famine. “Since it seems like we’ll be here for a while.”

Death sat down, putting the cat on the table. The minimum wage employees scrambling to make the food didn’t have the time to notice or care.

“We were just discussing some of the other anniversaries we have besides August 25,” said War. “Turns out we have quite a lot of them! We should share.”

Death was silent.

“February 14,” said War. “The start of the first War in Mesopotamia. That was my favorite one. I find the date so deliciously funny with what they’ve done with it now.”

“September 27,” said Pollution. “When the first mass-produced automobile left the factory.”

“What about you?” siad Famine.

“Black’s right,” said Pollution. “You must have one.”

Death hummed for a minute. Then: NOVEMBER 16. THE DAY THE FIRST MAN DIED.

“And kicked all this off,” said Famine. “I’ll drink to that.”

They clinked their glasses against each other’s.

“Hey,” said Famine. “You guys have been calling me ‘Black,’ this whole time, and while I guess it’s technically what I am…. Well, I picked a name. A more human name. You could use it, if you like.”

“Would you like that?” said Pollution.

“I think so. It’s Sable.”

“Raven Sable,” said War. “That’s right. I like it.”

“What about you?” said Sable. “Don’t you have one?”

“Oh, yeah!” said War. “Wouldn’t that just be great! Call me Carmine.”

“It’s such a good name!” said Ash joyfully.

Carmine beamed. She’d never known this would feel good, but it did.

Pollution shyly tapped their fingers on the table. “Chalk, please.”

All eyes turned towards Death.

“Well?” said Chalk. “Only if you want to.”

AZRAEL.

“It’s perfect,” said Ash.

Sable snapped his fingers. “Guys, hold on a second, I just remembered something.”

“Hm?” said Chalk.

“August 25. Armageddon.”

“So?” said Carmine. “That never happens anyway.”

“Well, we were so excited to meet we forgot we were supposed to go to Armageddon first.”

Carmine choked on the pickle she had been eating. “Oh yeah,” said Ash, very slowly. “I guess that’s fine, though. But, oh dear… Did anyone tell Ambriel?”

Azrael grinned, moreso than a regular skeletal grin. I’M SURE HE’S DOING JUST FINE.

“I’ve got it! I’ve finally got it!”

Ambriel, almost tripping over his robes, waved his papers in the air as he sprinted towards Armageddon. “I finally have all the departments in accord, the stars have aligned, the paperwork is signed, the—”

Ambriel stopped and beheld the field of Armageddon, butterflies floating by and flowers bouncing merrily, very conspicuously empty and peaceful and not trodden by the harbingers of Armageddon.

“Oh, dear…”

#good omens #my writing #my good omens fanfic #gohe

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chase-stephens · 4 years

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Locker Room Shenanigans - Chase & Gabrielle + Devyn

Chase and Gabrielle plan to meet up in the boys locker room after school.

Chase: Chase ran to the locker room as soon as the bell rang and was glad the football team was off today for practice. He got changed into his practice uniform quickly and waited for Gabrielle.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle waited outside the boys lockerroom for chase as he requested to meet there. She leaned against the wall and waited for him to pop out

Chase: Chase opened the door and stuck his head out and pulled her in quickly, "Did anyone see you?" he asked with a smile on his face.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle smiled as he pulled her into the boys locker room. "I don't think so...? I didn't think this was a sneaking around type thing." She pointed out, she didn't think she would get pulled into the locker room either. "It kinda smells in here."

Chase: "I mean, it's not like I'm supposed to bring girls in here. Also, just because you don't want people to know" said Chase, "I mean .. yeah. Boy smell, but like ... sneaking around. That's fun?" he said leaning in to give her a kiss.

Gabrielle: "Well we live together, and hang out so people will not be in shock of us walking next to eachother." She pointed out. "But sneaking around makes it a lot more fun." She smiled, pressing her lips to his

Chase: "I completely agree, also I am not waiting until practice is over to kiss you" said Chase moving her hair behind her ear, "You look really pretty today" he added as he kissed her again.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle couldn't help but smile, Chase was always so sweet to her. "I didn 't want to wait either." She said placing her hands on his cheeks and pressing another kiss to his lips. "Thanks baby."

Chase: Chase moved her up against the wall of lockers and started kissing her neck, moving his hand down to her thigh and moving it up so she'd be pressed up against him.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle let out a soft moan as he started nibbling on her neck, that was always a turn on for her. She let her hands slip under his shirt. "I'd hep you change for practice but it looks like you already did."

Devyn: devyn’s eyes were basically glued to her phone, not realizing she’d walked into the wrong locker room to change for cheer practice until it was too late. seeing a blonde pinned to the lockers by chase, she nearly dropped her phone as she jolted to a stop, jaw dropping as she gasped. “oh my god”, pushed out of her lips quickly.

Chase: Chase didn't hear the door, he was just listening to Gabrielle. He heard oh my god and immediately froze, not wanting to know who it was. Relenting, he looked over and stepped back from Gabrielle and straightened out his shirt, "Hey Dev" he said with a thick swallow, "How's it going?" he asked nervously.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle heard the words come out of the girls lips and gave Chase a good shove away from her. She fixed her blonde hair. "Are you just going to stand there?" She replied kinda snippy. She really wanted to know why she hasn't left yet.

Devyn: devyn had no idea what to say, she just slowly started to smile as her attention shifted between the two of them. she looked down briefly, shoving her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. "yeah, sorry to interrupt..." it was then that she realized what locker room they were in, the stench wafting at her. her nose curled as she took a step back. "oh my god, it reeks in here. why are boys so gross?" the brunette took another step back before saying, "maybe consider locking the door..."

Chase: "Gabrielle, play nice" said Chase to his girlfriend. "Yes we are disgusting, it has never smelled good in here" he said talking quickly trying to lead her out of the room, "also do me a huge favor and don't tell coach or any of Gabrielle's brothers and I promise to drop someone this semester on your call" Chase added before he shut the door and exhaled.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle exhaled as she let chase do the rest of the talking. She picked up her purse. "Just don't tell anyone really." Gabrielle said as Chase basically pushed her out the door. "On that note, I think Im going to head home." She said looking at him.

Devyn: devyn didn't even know any of gabrielle's brothers to say anything in the first place but she still nodded, shouting out "you got it," as the door was shut in her face. "why does everyone think i'm going to tell on them for their sexcapades?" she mumbled, now walking over to the correct locker room.

Chase: "She's not going to say anything" said Chase putting his hand on her shoulder. "Really the only better option would be Chanel walking in on us" he reassured her. "Before you go, are we good?" he asked making sure that they were okay. He was just really nervous these days about where they were at. They hadn't been this good for thing long in some time.

Gabrielle: "Chanel has the mouth as big as the pacific ocean, if she found out, the whole school would know." Gabrielle said, knowing Chanel had spread rumors out fast. "Yeah. We are." She said with a weak smile. "I just got to go."

Chase: "I mean ... that's not exactly true.... because I already told Chanel..." said Chase realizing that he probably shouldn't have done that.

Gabrielle: "Oh" Gabrielle responded. "So The whole school probably already knows then. So what is there to worry." She said in a mumble

Chase: "I mean nobody knows, just you and me and chanel and now devyn" said Chase, "she doesn't care enough about happy drama to spread it everywhere" he added putting a hand on her face, "and she's my best friend, and since I can't tell my other best friend ... I made an allowance"

Gabrielle: "As long as you trust her..." Gabrielle trailed off. "I didn't tell anyone." She pointed out. But then again, she didn't really have anyone to tell her secrets too. "Okay."

Chase: "You haven't told Sadie?" said Chase turning his head a little, he was a little surprised. He wanted to yell it from the rooftops. He gave her a little kiss on the forehead, "I'll see you after practice?" he asked.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle shook her head. "No. I thought keeping this between us meant keeping this between us." She pointed out. "Yeah. I'll be at home."

Chase: "Okay, I'll see you soon. I love you!" said Chase with a smile as she headed out. He had to shake off the worry for practice, but he couldn't get the disappointment out of his head.

Gabrielle: "Goodbye, love you." She replied before exiting the locker room and going home

#chasexgabrielle #chasexdevyn #c:gabrielle #c:devyn #devyn:1 #gabrielle:12

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travllingbunny · 5 years

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The 100 6x03 The Children of Gabriel

The last episode was a character-based one focused on our protagonists and the issues simmering below the surface, which came out during the eclipse-induced psychosis. This one was very much focused on world-building, and was such an overload of new information about two new groups of potential antagonists that I had to watch it twice to pick up all of it. But while there was no time for any longer talks about feelings and character stuff, there were quite a few small and/or subtle character moments that were quite meaningful.

We finally get the introduction of Russell Lightbourne (JR Bourne), the leader of the „peaceful“ society of Sanctum, and a few other characters, including his wife Simone, and we get a look at how their society works; and we also meet, for the first time, the mysterious people who are lurking in the woods and appear to be some sort of a rebel/guerrilla group, and who are referred to as „the children of Gabriel“. The first thing I did after seeing the episode was to make a Twitter poll: „Who is creepier?“ with the third option: „Both are super creepy“. At the moment, Russell’s people are presented as pseudo-good guys, but everything about them all but screams that their society is very sinister. The „children of Gabriel“, on the other hand, are presented as pseudo-antagonists, and while I’m more inclined to see them as potential not-so-bad-guys, I would hesitate to call them good, either: they are very grey. And both groups give off cult vibes. It’s possible that there really are no good guys among the people on this planet – or if there is a someone else that may be a good guy, that it’s a third faction that we haven’t met yet – at least not in the present.

The hijackers from 6x02 indeed belonged to Russell’s people, so for a society that’s supposedly „peaceful“, they sure didn’t make a good first impression. Kaylee – that’s apparently the name of the woman who’s the sole survivor of that group of four – was blaming the Earthkru for killing three of them, while saying „we hurt no one“. Err, you came in masked, attacked their ship, tried to hijack it and took people captive. Of course they defended themselves, what the heck did you expect?! New planet, but yet again we have to deal with hypocritical people who attack the protagonists and then blame them for defending themselves.

There’s no way that Russell and his society aren’t bad guys, right? They are elitist, self-righteous, judgmental, hypocritical, they believe in "special bloodlines" and treating some people as "disposable", they give off creepy cult vibes, Russell straight up makes a comparison between his society and Mount Weather after having heard the story about them – and while I don’t think that Sanctum people are too similar to Mountain Men, as I point out here, this is a big hint that this society is very sinister. They are giving me Capitol vibes (minus the actual Hunger Games, because they’re anti-violence). Including the bad kind of pacifism - the “war is terrible, but oppression, classism and treating people as disposable is OK, so anyone taking up arms to rebel against us is evil”. And I'm pretty sure they have been doing some sort of a mind transfer of the Primes (members of the four founding families from the Eligius 3 mission) into the brains of "hosts" (apparently, being a Nightblood makes you a suitable host) in a ceremony they call „Naming“. This may be technically just speculation at this point, but it’s really, really strongly hinted.

My theory on the „Naming“ ceremony however, is different than the popular opinion in the fandom that the Primes fully take over the bodies of the „hosts“ and that the hosts disappear I don't think it's a full replacement, but more like an upgrade, where the host is changed and the Prime is supposed to be in the driving seat. (Maybe it’s because I’m thinking of the skinchanging in A Song of Ice and Fire and some of the storylines in Dollhouse.) For starters, Delilah was not happy about becoming a Prime, but she didn’t seem to think that she would disappear and her body would be simply overtaken by someone else – and I think she would be way more freaked out if that were the case. Similarly, even in a cult, I can’t see parents being happy for their children to become Primes if it meant that their bodies are overtaken and that they basically disappear. And it would also make it a lot more interesting storyline – especially if the fandom speculation about in Clarke becoming a host for Josephine is correct (and it probably is, in some form – there are quite a few hints towards that, and the setup happened in this episode, when Rose, the blonde little girl who was meant to be a host for a Prime, was kidnapped/rescued by the Children of Gabriel). If the hosts were fully overtaken by the Primes, then this takeover is either never going to happen, or will never be full or will last very short, and Clarke will be saved. But if Clarke and Josephine can co-exist in the same brain for some time, this may open new storytelling possibilities – where Clarke is obviously not going to be obliterated by Josephine, but the two may co-exist in the same brain and body, fight for dominance but also possibly even be allies and work together, so to speak, and maybe help each other? This could indeed be the „acting challenge“ for Eliza Taylor that so many of the cast and crew have talked about.

But what kind of technology exactly are they using to transfer minds? The most likely theory is that it is derived from an early, less developed prototype of the chip/Flame, which Becca already worked on before the apocalypse. There are too many ties between Eligius Corporation, Becca and the Second Dawn. Madi will be in real danger if/when Russell and co. find out about the Flame.

The Children of Gabriel are more mysterious of the two group so far. Unlike the Sanctum people, they may end up being more on the (relatively) good side, and they're rebels fighting against the eternal dominance and prolongation of life of the Primes - but they still planned to kill the hosts as the B-plan if they couldn't kidnap/rescue them. So, killing the Primes is more important than protecting/saving people. Their chanting "death is life" and "death to Primes" also sounds cult-like (even though I think the words themselves are less sinister than they first sound, as they probably refer to stopping the endless cycle of Primes replicating themselves), and they are mostly motivated by trying to impress or get back into the good graces of "the Old Man"... Is the Old Man Gabriel? I don’t know how he would still be alive, but I feel he is – but not through the same means as the other Primes are prolonging their lives, because CoG hate the Primes and what they do. In any case, this group seems just to be a group of guerrilla fighters, who have also infiltrated the Sanctum – but we haven’t seen whatever larger group of people they are part of, or what their settlements look like. Have they been cast out by the „Old Man“?

Some big hints about the history of the planet were dropped: Gabriel is considered a "demon" and hated by Russell and his people, who tell the story of how he thought he could walk on water after being bitten by the snake whose poison works as an antidote to the seaweed poison. (The snake that was named by Josie.) Meanwhile, Russell Lightbourne is worshiped as a savior. But it is Russell who has the last name that's very similar to "Lucifer" (which means lightbearer), even though Gabriel seems to be the one who was cast out of this "paradise", or didn't want to be a part of it. And apparently, Russell has the same first name as Sean Maguire’s character we met in the flashback in 6x02, the astronomer and Josie’s father – and is probably his latest incarnation. But Russell was the one who killed many of the original Primes during his eclipse-induced psychosis, shouting „Sanctum is mine“, while Gabriel, the geneticist, Josie’s boyfriend, was the one who got away and survived. So what is going on? False history?

But while the new characters and societies are intriguing, what is more interesting is how it all affects our protagonists. I don't know how long it will be till they start realizing that how sinister this peaceful society is (they don’t have all the info they need as of now), but right now, they are too focused on the fact that they need someone to teach them how to survive on this planet (with not just eclipse-induced psychosis, but also poison seaweed, swarms of bugs, meat-eating trees and so many other weird and dangerous things), which is why trying to convince them to accept them into their society seems to them, understandably, like the best course of action.

At the same time, the fact that Clarke, Bellamy and the others want to find peace and be the „good guys“ as Monty told them, is another reason why they are likely to try to see Russell’s people in a good light. I feel like Sanctum is going to be a temptation to Clarke in particular (based on this episode and trailer hints) for multiple reasons, and they are already trying to suck her in. It feels like a peaceful, happy place, with things that she has only read about and maybe seen on videos but never in real life – such as dogs. (Having an adorable dog come up to you is truly one of the biggest temptations possible.) She gets to wear beautiful dresses, Russell acts nice to her, and kind of looks like her father. But her emotional state is especially making her vulnerable. She feels so much guilt and wants to do better, wants to ensure this better life for her people, while Russell and Simone (playing a good cop/bad cop) are interrogating her about the supposedly terrible past of her and her people. They are sitting there at a table with a huge banquet made just for three people, somewhere in their Renaissance Fair-like castle, and being judgmental about the things they did to survive or protect their loved ones. And now that they know that she is a Nightblood, she is a target – but how far would Clarke go to try to ensure her people stay in Sanctum? Would she even agree to be a host, both for them and because she’s had self-loathing and suicidal thoughts, so losing herself into someone else’s consciousness may be additionally appealing to her in her current state?

Some themes that have always followed Clarke’s character are: privileged background (reflected in her nickname „Princess“, which I think fans tend to romantcize way too much), tendency to take on too much responsibility, to take charge, but also to isolate herself, desire to save people (which may be either saving everyone – or just saving those she loves), ruthlessness in pursuit of that goal, self-sacrifice. One of the repeated situations throughout the show is: other leaders who have been Clarke’s allies/friends/occasional antagonists would tell her that she is "born to lead" just like they are (which may be just about her personal qualities and tendency to take charge and responsibility in tough situations, but also has some other, less pleasant connotations, when said by people who are royalty/„special bloodlines“ – for being born with Nightblood like Lexa, or as a son of a Queen, as Roan), and try to encourage her to treat people as disposable, as a part of making tough decisions. But no one has been so blatant about it to actually use the word „disposable“, as Russell has. And now he also thinks that Clarke literally has „royal blood“. (The funny thing about it is – she doesn’t, she became Nightblood through science. Emori was very close to becoming one instead. But you know what's even funnier? Everyone who is Nightblood /on Earth or on Sanctum/Alpha- became that through science, or their ancestors did. Of course, valuing people for their bloodline is nonsense, period.)

But Clarke had a few great moments in this episode that made me very happy. First she refused to bow to Russell, and then when she made it clear to Russell that she is going to risk herself first, not anyone else, and that „None of us are (disposable)“. But since those were things I expected, I was particularly happy that Clarke refused to be guilt-tripped about Mount Weather and made it clear that she wasn't going to apologize for saving the people she loves from those trying to murder them. YES. People have made Clarke feel guilty about that way too many times. What she, Bellamy and Monty did was the right thing to do, and most of the adults on Mount Weather were not innocent.

Murphy’s clinical death experience opens up a very interesting and completely new storyline. We’ve had characters talking about what they think happens after death, but (outside of characters whose minds are being preserved in the Flame), this is the first time someone has come close to seeing or thinking they had seen what happens after death. But is this really a normal clinical death experience, or did Murphy have hallucinations while still unconscious, caused by the poison or the antidote? It’s the first time anyone on the show has mentioned the concept of people going to hell due to their sins. I can’t wait to see what character development this causes in Murphy.

There wasn’t much talk about what happened during the eclipse-induced psychosis, which makes sense – people are simply aware that they weren’t really to blame and no one is holding it against anyone (not to mention that they have so much urgent stuff to deal with), but the deeper emotional issues are something that we know about and that I expected to be addressed later in the season. Naturally, they addressed what happened to Murphy the most, since they nearly lost him. Emori was as loving and caring to him as she was violent and murderous during the psychosis, and felt guilty over attacking him, while Bellamy comforted her pointing out that Murphy’s condition was not her fault but his. (These two had some very nice friendship moments in season 5, and it’s nice to see that again.) Bellamy and Murphy had a very warm friendship moment, and Raven showed her relief and happiness about him being alive in her usual snarky manner.

On the other hand, while Bellamy and Clarke didn’t talk about what happened during the psychosis, or what happened during season 5 (yet – we know from the trailer that a big conversation is coming, just not when), they confirmed the trust they have in each other through actions, and small moments of exchanging meaningful looks. Bellamy showed that he still trusts in Clarke’s ability to be again a leader and ambassador of their people– although it was, at the same time, a smart decision and quick thinking. Russell got the impression Clarke was the leader, from the way she was the one asking questions (which happened mostly because she was asking about Murphy’s condition, and later in particular when she was showing concern for Madi – these are the things that spur her into action), and, as Bellamy pointed out, Russell seems to like her, so it was a good idea to use that. Raven was rolling her eyes* (this happened shortly after she angrily remarked „I didn’t know you were giving orders again, Clarke“), and I wonder if she again thinks that Bellamy is „taking Clarke’s orders“ or „a knight by his queen’s side“ or whatever she thought in season 3, which wasn’t really true back then either – but that would especially be funny now, since Bellamy wasn’t relinquishing leadership at all: he has been the one telling everyone what to do and did that right after that scene, after Russell left, and no one has a problem with taking his orders. (Except Octavia, who’s not listening to anyone and still does whatever she wants.) In fact, telling Russell „She is. She can speak for us“ was also kind of giving Clarke a role – so he felt he needed to explain his reasons to her, immediately after Russell left. And unlike Raven, he is not threatened by Clarke being perceived as the leader, and her being his co-leader (one whose role is more of an ambassador who gets to interact with the other leader) is a return to a familiar dynamic that works.

Bellamy taking the responsibility to get Madi from the dropship and saying „I promise“, and Clarke silently accepting that and trusting him with her daughter’s safety, was a really important moment and callback to the most painful moments between them in season 5. It shows they are healing from the terrible misunderstandings – and that Clarke is now thinking about everything differently than she did at the time. Back then, she saw Bellamy’s actions, after he had promised her to keep Madi safe, as a deep, awful betrayal, but now she seems to understand that he saw putting the Flame in Madi as a way to protect Madi and Clarke and everyone else. It’s funny that the fandom was expecting a big and long separation between these two, but instead, they were reunited in the same episode – and the show still managed to use the short separation to show Bellamy walking away and looking back, and Clarke looking at him leaving with a sad, longing look (only interrupted by the adorable dog), and then a reunion with „you kept your promise“ heart-eyes.

*At this point, I feel a bit fed up with the constant bitter and angry remarks Raven is constantly throwing at Clarke. She has reasons to feel angry over Clarke’s betrayal in season 5, but it’s time they talk it out, because this is kind of annoying, especially when it’s the only thing Raven gets to do in the episode. Diyoza was amazing

A lot of people have remarked on the awkwardness of the hug between Bellamy and Echo, and there have been lots of comments about actor chemistry etc. – but thinking that acting choices are random or dictated by how actors feel about a fictional relationship is pretty insulting to the actors, and directors and editors, and also doesn’t make much sense: people who make the show are not incompetent, and all the moments of Bellamy showing more emotion and interest for Clarke compared to how he is with Echo, cannot be accidental, just like it can’t be accidental that there are so many times all three are framed within the same shot, with Echo positioned as the third wheel rather than Clarke. Echo herself may be increasingly noticing this, just as she may have noticed that Bellamy is valuing Clarke’s opinions more than hers or at least tends to agree with and side with her more. Echo suggested fighting, Clarke retorted that they should instead try to be friends and be welcomed in that society, and Bellamy said nothing, but obviously supported Clarke’s position later. (In season 5, when they were still on the ship and Clarke-less, Echo and Bellamy also had a big difference in opinion when Echo was suggesting they killed the 300 prisoners in their cryo-sleep, but Bellamy shut that down quickly, and Echo then agreed with him.) This could make her think that psychosis!Emori was right when she called her a spy „serving her master“, once again, which provoked Echo’s hallucination of her past with the Ice Nation and Queen Nia.

One thing that Echo decided and Bellamy wasn’t too happy about, but did not protest, was inviting Octavia to come with them and Raven to help bring Madi and others from the dropship. He probably realized that it was for the best that they take Octavia as far away from people they wanted to convince that they’re good and peaceful. But Echo may have done it as a combination of hoping Octavia and Bellamy reconcile – because she thinks it would be good for him – and because she values the fact that Octavia is a strong fighter. She respects people who are capable and can be ruthless (which is why she doesn’t blame Clarke, either), and the idea that it’s good to use Octavia’s abilities is similar to what Bellamy initially told her at the end of season 4, that she’ll be useful for them because she’s strong and can help them survive.

But Bellamy is not able to be so chill about things when Octavia is concerned. And she went and confirmed all the worst things he thought about her: that she is not trying to change at all, isn’t admitting any mistakes, and is going to use violence and kill people as her first choice, even when it’s not necessary. The fact that even Diyoza angrily pointed out that it wasn’t necessary shows that this was the case. Leaving Octavia behind may seem very harsh from Bellamy, as is his line that his sister died a long time ago, but I like the fact that he’s sticking to his guns and cutting her out of his life and not allowing her to be a part of the group before she shows a will to change, because an insta-forgiveness/ acceptance would prevent her from even trying – and would harm everyone else, too. At the same time, I don’t think he really wants her to die, contrary to what she said – it was obvious on his face how painful the decision was for him - and I don’t think he really thinks she will (Octavia is capable, has a sword, and has survived a lot of things before). He thinks that she needs to have her own soul-searching on her own – which is probably right.

Not that Octavia will be by herself, since she immediately attacked and got captured by the Children of Gabriel, led by a new character Xavier (Chuku Modu). Ironically, she may end up being the first to learn more about and maybe see the perspective of that group of people (after killing three of them for no good reason) – even though the first interactions are less than pleasant.

Another person who may get in touch with them is Diyoza, who got cast out of Sanctum by Russell, in spite of being 6 months pregnant, after he learned who she was. (I guess they don’t practice keeping people in prison for any longer period of time.) According to him, her reputation as an evil terrorist is so bad that her picture is in their history books next to Hitler and Bin Laden. So how come they didn’t recognize her immediately? Unless he is exaggerating. Diyoza’s backstory is something I really, really want to know more about. Diyoza herself claimed in S5 that she was fighting against a „fascist“ government. Somehow I feel that she wasn’t really the evil one, especially when Russell and her people hate her.

Diyoza was amazing in this episode, again, and is quickly rising even more on my list of favorite characters. She was a no-nonsense and capable military person that she always is, and made snarky remarks to Gaia about the whole Madi being a Commander thing, basically that she should leave Madi alone to just be a child. Madi was herself a bit annoyed with Gaia’s lessons and snarky, but then felt just as insulted as Gaia when Diyoza made her comments, because she does take the Flame and her role seriously.

When Madi mentioned the scary, evil „Dark Commander“ (Sheidheda) that she sees in her dreams, Diyoza seemed like she had an idea who it may be. Someone from Second Dawn? It’s been speculated that it was Cadogan, though the figure seen in the trailer is not played by the same actor. (BTW, I know that Sheidheda means „Dark Commander“ (shade –dark, heda = commander), but I can’t be the only one thinking that the writers or the guy creating the Grounder speech had a sense of humor and intentioanlly made it sound like Sh*ithead?)

Jordan was adorable, and his romance with Delilah was as cute as insta-romances between two cute people who have just met can be, when they have nice chemistry - but he’s starting to learn that he shouldn’t trust people so easily and that his naivete can be very harmful to the group. He can’t go on being treated and acting as a child in a body of a man in his mid-20s.

This was a nice setup for the rest of the season.

Rating: 8/10

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bullet-farmer · 5 years

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I got tagged in a “Getting to Know You” meme by @once-a-polecat. ONE: name/alias - Jo, or Bullet Farmer. I answer to both.

TWO: birthday - August.

THREE: zodiac sign - Leo, Gemini rising and Moon. :)

FOUR: height - Five foot five/six ish.

FIVE: hobbies - writing, cats, collecting perfume, making jewelry (trying to do that professionally, though), TV

SIX: favorite colors - greens of any shade; black, white, and red in combinations; dark blue

SEVEN: favorite books - The Neverending Story, most of Alan Moore’s work (Tom Tomorrow bored me, though, and The Killing Joke makes me really uncomfortable, and I don’t like it), Les Miserables, and you know what? I don’t know. I don’t read for pleasure much anymore, unless it’s fanfic.

EIGHT: last song I listened to - The Doomed by A Perfect Circle

NINE: last film I watched - Late Night, on Netflix. A great movie about gender issues, racism, and ageism in the TV industry. Written and directed by two Indian American women!

TEN: inspiration for my muse - Not sure. Right now maybe not dying?

ELEVEN: dream job - My current job, except ADHD and grief didn’t ruin it for me.

TWELVE: meaning behind your url - The Bullet Farmer is one of the antagonists from Mad Max: Fury Road. I sort of got hyperfixated with him and his ride, and now I’m pretty much Bullet Farmer (or KellerProcess) everywhere.

THIRTEEN: top 3 ships: Fuck it, I’m doing more than that: Ebony Maw/Thanos, Beelzebub/Gabriel, Aziraphale/Crowley, Hastur/Ligur/Sandalphon (in any combination of two or more), Beelzebub/Dagon, Michael/one of my OFCs (in an rp a friend and I are doing), Uriel/Dagon, Sandalphon/Gabriel, Proxima Midnight/Corvus Glaive, Cull Obsidian/The Other (based on an RP a friend and I have been doing for ages), the Bullet Farmer/the People Eater/Immortan Joe (in any combination), Loki/Thor, the Doctor/the Master (in any regeneration with any regeneration, yes even Crispy!Master and Goosnake!Master), Martha/Ten (I am so pissed off this didn’t happen), Utena/Anthy, Hux/Poe, Finn/Rose, Kylo/Rey, Amadeus/Salieri (from the movie, not IRL), Javert/Jean Valjean (pretty much any iteration of them, my goodness!), Elena/Rude (Final Fantasy VII), Charlie/Dee (Always Sunny), Newt/Hermann/Hannibal Chau (Pacific Rim, in any combination), Natasha/Loki (MCU), Mantis/Nebula (new to it, but loving it), Grandmaster & Topaz (queerplatonic friendship), Jukrat/Roadhog/Sombra (in any permutation, though I hate the Overwatch fandom so much), Symmetra/Pharah, Junkrat/Roadhog/Queen of Junkertown (in any permutation), Moira/Mercy, Moira/Junkrat...I’m just gonna stop there

FOURTEEN: lipstick or chapstick - Neither. Only if I need chapstick really badly.

FIFTEEN: currently reading - Lots of fanfic.

Tagging @silentfcknhill, @ineffably-human, @bai-xue, @the-beelz, @standardizedbogey, @gallifreytreeflower, @hasturlavista, @bigbeautifulcartoonpeople, @thefeistydragon ,I don’t know, I’m tired and blanking on people I know I want to add here. Please do it if you want to, and please know I don’t love you any less if I fucked up and didn’t include your name.

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guilelcss-blog · 5 years

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hello there -- !

alias: maddie

pronouns: she / her

what do you dig about the western vibe? okay, so, the history of it???? and the pride people take in it -- so long as it’s not the racist way. like, my best friend’s grandma lives in oklahoma, and is like 1/8th cherokee. and this grandma has a whole room devoted to the heritage in their house?! also, that vintage look and sound of music is so lovely and being from a tourist town where that’s celebrated all the time means that it’s kind of ingrained in me to like those things. also, i just love cowboys and history. so, everything’s cool!

what’s your favorite color? yellow. oh my god, yellow. when i was in high school, we did this production of the addams family musical, and my best friend played alice. and her line is “yellow is the color of happiness and fun,” and we say it all the freaking time. so, while the color itself is so pretty -- it’s come out of adoration. (i can’t believe i just wrote that much on a color.)

what are some songs you’ve been loving lately? hAH. so, i have this knack for getting into really famous bands too late. it’s the beatles right now. i’m twenty and i’m just now going through a beatles phase??? like, there was a mini blip in 7th grade, but this is a magnum opus of adoration. somehow, though, i’ve always loved george harrison? like i knew “oh, he’s a beatle” but would listen to his solo music without question. i also am really loving first aid kit right now, and the glenn miller orchestra? writing a book set in the 40′s means it’s like all i can listen to to concentrate.

what meme do you think you use most frequently? i just quote a lot of gabriel gundacker things.....ALL THE TIME. half the time, they don’t make sense in situations. i’ll say “zendaya is meechee” like twice a day.

what characters do you usually like to write, and why? having a pretty boring life has lead me to writing as diversely as i can....but i tend to write female characters. like, my current book is about a war correspondent in the pacific?? but the last one was about a small southern town and the anti-christ??? so, it all changes. role play wise, i don’t have much to base this answer off of.

anything else? so, uhm, i’ve never really done a skeleton rp before (that lasted longer than like a week)?? i’m watching this and trying to learn as quietly as i can. so, if it takes me a second to do something new, i’m very sorry. i learn from watching others and googling a lot. i’m really always open for anything. i just want other people to be happy, and am immensely a people pleaser. there’s a good chance that when you read this, whenever that might be, i’m probably giggling somewhere. for no reason. i giggle and laugh a LOT.

#v. OUT OF BODY #1899talk #i ramble a lot pls forgive me

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cloudwomensquarterly · 5 years

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Zoriada and Marisol from SanTana’s Fairy Tales Written By Sarah Raphael Garcia

The following story appears in SanTana's Fairy Tales and is reprinted with permission from Raspa Magazine.

Zoriada and Marisol

I am an enchanted woman named Zoraida.

But of course you already know my name. You knew me when I was alive.

In this life, I reign from far, far above the castles and queens. I travel by whispers, wishes upon the North Star and hushed weeps. Just like you called upon me in midst of bloody murmurs, wishing for death to ease the pain. Some call me death, others the Godmother of life.

In my last life I too thought it was my fate to die as a woman on a night like tonight. But death came just too soon, leaving me trapped between other’s lives and my own.

I was an unfamiliar name in a city filled with dreamers. I was strong like the palm trees swaying in the Santa Ana winds and lyrical as the parrots living under the green, mama bird-like wings of the Pacific Coast palm trees. My legs, long and silky, danced to their own melody without any awkward stumbling or mispronounced schemes.

Fortunes—I had none.

My purse was of more value than the coins clinking in its deep corners and melancholy was my lover leading me into the bitter sea. Still, I lugged my stitched heart in weary arms— leaving it exposed to everyone I passed on the dark, twisted streets.

I was inspiring, so you kept saying when you spoke of me. But now, I appear in reflections, cupped hands and wishes.

For as long as I could remember, I wanted to twirl my long hair between china-red fingertips and blush when I cupped my breasts in front of the standing mirror. I wanted a man to caress my curves, from my hips to my puckered lips. But to most, my type of love was forbidden—cursed by society like the familiar tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.

Love—I thought I would find it.

But when my limp body was found, winded and pale as the ocean’s spume, it cast a shadow over those close to my heart, leaving only the jagged sounds of shattered dreams and a person by another name—the name I was given at birth, not the real me.

Before I tell you what is to become of you, please keep breathing. As painful as it might be, I plead for you to keep breathing—at the end I will ask for your wish, I promise you that.

When I was at my last breath, I regretted believing someone would actually love me and wished for death. You think you prefer not feeling anything but the truth is your despair has summoned my presence—because we are the same. Like you, I too was first called a boy at birth. A boy who stared at other boys and envied the red ribbons the girls wore in their long wavy hair. It was a girl who helped me see who I really was.

“I like your eyelashes. You would make a pretty girl.” She was ten like me, and wore an eyelet dress with matching socks.

“But I’m a boy.” I was dressed in jeans and plain t-shirt my mother picked out for me.

“Those boys are mean to you. Do you want to pretend to be a girl and play with me?” I still remember her, she was the first to accept me.

Before I could fully see beyond my own skin and feel the moths flutter wildly in my heart.

But really it could have been anyone thereafter: my mother, my only sister, my first lover—all paid me a compliment about my soft skin, perfect lips and almond shaped eyes. It wasn’t until many years later my hair became my true beauty.

Back then my name was Gabriel. My mother said she chose my name because I was her little angel. I wonder what all their birth names were before I helped them die. I learned to never ask. The names they give us do not affect who really are.

Here, let move your hair out of your eyes. Your curls are such a pretty shade of caramel, perfect with your brown skin. It saddens me to see it fading. Doesn’t the lavender oil feel good on your temples? I used to rub it on myself after a “bad” day. I should’ve taught you more when I was alive.

My mother taught me about the healing powers of the oils as a boy. I think my mother knew then it would be the only thing she could pass on to me to heal myself. Lavender is for balancing, soothing, normalizing, calming, relaxing, and healing. Ginger for warming, strengthening, anchoring. And oregano oil is invigorating, purifying and uplifting. But my favorite of all is jasmine—it induces calmness, relaxation, sensuality, and romance. My mother often reminded me of the healing pur- poses of all the oils, even when I jerked away angrily at fifteen because I told her she should’ve taught me to fight instead.

I added some jasmine on your wrists. You will be able to smell it later, should you choose to live.

I remember the first time I was beaten by the neighborhood boys. They never liked me. They called me names my mother would never approve of, “Joto,” “Faggot,” and “Maricón.” I never told my mother why they chased me down the alley. I just told her they were boys from another neighborhood. That’s when my mother started chanting all the remedies. Often, on the day after applying oils on my face and limbs, my mother gave me a cup of ginger and arnica tea with breakfast. She also gave me a lemon lightly covered with honey, in case the tea left a bad taste in my mouth. Lemon is uplifting, refreshing, cheering. I say honey is just as sweet as a rose at your nose tip and solely to indulge. My mother would say it was anti-inflammatory, to help with the bruises. Should you decide to get up, I left some honey and lemon on your table, all you have to do is boil water. I do hope you choose to get up but I will understand if you don’t.

At nineteen, I ran into my mother’s house blubbering tears. When she asked what happened. I spat the words out as if she had always known. I didn’t try to ease her into my real identity or even try to confront her with it. She saw me in pain and did what came natural to her.

“Mijo, who hurt you? Come here, come here, let your mama hold you.”

“Mama, it hurts so much.”

“Where mijo, show me where. I will get my oils.” “No, don’t go. Mama, he used me, he used me. He told me he loved me. And I just gave myself to him.” Instantly, my mother dropped her arms. I looked at her and called for her, “Mama?” She just stared at me without any words. I knew then it would be hard for her to understand. I knew then everything would be harder and I would have to learn to heal myself. And although my mother never asked me to leave her home, I felt it was necessary, out of respect. On my last day, she burnt sage around my body before I walked out the door. But I couldn’t continue with the silence, it was like sucking on a lemon with cracked lips.

I’m sure you have a similar story. We all do. I don’t ever assume mine is the worst. At the time I thought it was best we didn’t share our pasts, but now I wish I could’ve told you more when I was alive. We all feel pain differently, some of us know how to heal ourselves, others don’t know anything else but pain.

Look how they left you, how did you even make it into the apartment? And your beautiful dress, did they really have to rip it in three places? You are such a beautiful woman, skin softer than all I have ever felt.

I see the sewing machine in the corner, a new fabric hanging from the needle. You know, that’s how I managed to pay for my own change.

I see myself now reduced to a skeleton in a hand stitched cloak. I have shed all the layers of flesh, skin and gender. You’ll look like this when you’re dead too. How trivial our differences become, between lives. In my last life, I did succeed in becoming a woman, the only part of me you knew. We are a lot alike. We both hungered to be accepted, I succumbed to the death of it. You want to stop the pain; I now regret wishing it away.

But I didn’t know I was coming to heal you.

I only realized you were calling for death when I entered this apartment.

When I first moved out of my mother’s home I found myself wandering through days in no particular direction. I lived in this same small apartment, making the living room my stage, such as you did too. The man who took me in was not a lover. Sometimes he would say he found me in his own reflection, like a walking mirror reassuring his presence; other times, he’d say I found him, like an abandoned newborn fawn wobbles towards a horse for comfort. Once he claimed he saved me, without saying from what. But now I know, his guidance prolonged my life to be what I am now.

I remember very little of the first year out of my mother’s home. But I do recall the sun rising after I left the apartment, sometimes several hours later. I knew I was on a path, something better than before, and possibly a change, though I can’t remember ever contemplating these things on my way to the warehouse where I worked as a packmule. The man said there would be times when the sunrise would make me smile. Yet, since the day I met him I only showed him the face of an orphaned child. He was rarely home when I returned after night fell. But with time, things did change. My hair grew longer and longer. I kept it just passed my shoulders. On the days I remained home from work the man taught me to sew. While the man dressed himself before leaving for the night, he spent the time lecturing me about drag etiquette and giving a hands-on lesson on how to convert woman’s clothing to compliment our bodies.

“Remember, inhale while you zip-up. Exhale when you tousle your hair. Scream when you need to, because we all need to scream when we do.

“Pat your lips before walking out the door. And shower yourself in the scent you wish to perspire.

“If anyone, and I mean anyone honey—man or woman— even looks at you with disgust, just blow them a kiss as you pass them by. Be who you are, walk tall and mighty like a queen.”

He also gave me my first dress. He said he hoped it brought the same memories as it did him. I can’t say it ever did.

The only clothes I had from the time before my change were the threads my mother provided, the plain white t-shirts she afforded with the labors of her healing. Instead of throwing them out, I used them for lining, to keep the one who taught me to heal close to me. I knew in her own way she showed me love.

The man was my strength, as I hoped to be yours. The man told me he had to let me walk on my own. He gave me his room, with a closet full of beautiful dresses, and colorful accessories. Caddy corner from the sewing machine sat a vanity mirror covered with make-up tips and inspirational quotes— words I heard him tell me time and time again but I was too tired to make them my own.

About a month after the man left, I began to use his things, tailored each piece to cling to my waist. It was in his absence that he taught me how to be a woman. I hoped to pass on my things to someone one day too.

It is odd how you called to me when I first crossed your path. You were the first to compliment my hair, “I like your hair, reminds my of an onyx stone. Is it real?” I laughed, put my arms around you, teased you about your little boy clothes and brought you home the same night. You were my lost child of the night. But of course you probably do not remember your first year either. Or maybe you remember everything, and I’m just a foolish lost soul.

I bet you thought you would never know what happened to me or why I left. I didn’t mean to leave you like this. It was an honor to see you bloom. Unlike me, you listened to my words and teachings like a starving child licking your lips over breadcrumbs. I never gifted you a first dress because you made it when I was gone—in one day. You wore it before your hair grew out and your curves filled it in. You were the fawn born a doe. I never say I found you because I know you saved me from me. You gave me the courage to face my change and to own my new name.

Zoraida. Marisol. Like sisters. I was more like jasmine; you are more like ginger. We both healed each other. Yet, it was I who fell for the wolf disguised in sheep’s coat. My prince promised me an untold fairytale. I wanted to keep him all for myself. I never shared his name or the details of our prelude. I left before you came home. I left wearing a new dress, carrying my finest purse and wearing matching shoes. I hoped to be swept off my feet and carried away in his arms. He did just that.

My prince let me enjoy our shared meal and drink one glass of red wine. He offered me a ride home. The stars were out and my shoes were not made to walk the streets. How could I deny?

I prepared myself for the good night kiss. Pushed my hair behind each ear, dabbed my lips lightly on a tissue to avoid leaving him marked. I would thank my prince shyly while looking up to his eyes.

But before I could tell him where to turn, my prince drove in a different direction. When I joked about getting lost, he said he had been watching me from long ago.

“I saw you first at a bus stop. You applied red lipstick on your lips.” He said the words while his black eyes turned to see me.

“Oh, it must have been a day I was running late.” I responded and giggled while looking away.

“I watched how your hair grew, before it even passed your ears.” This time, he spoke in almost a whisper, staring straight ahead.

“Oh, what do you mean? It has been this length for months.” My voice cracked and my body tensed up.

“I’ve been watching you, pretending, pretending, that’s all you do!” His voice changed its tune, his brutish words echoed as if they bounced off each window in the car.

The car came to a stop and it wasn’t at my home. I immediately went for the door. When I moved away from him, I felt a roughness around my neck. My hands didn’t have the strength to reach the door or window. I tried to scream but the noose got tighter and tighter. My fingers burned from clasping the rope, trying to keep inhaling. I got very tired and let my eyes shut. When I awoke, I was tied at my ankles and wrists, laid in a small space. I was in the trunk of his car. I tasted metallic on the tip of my tongue and was undressed. Pain, pain, every- where—like ten beatings in one day. I could only close my eyes to dream of something better. I awoke to my prince opening the trunk to beat me more. He didn’t speak, nor could I with the gag in my mouth. I could only wish, wish I would have never believed another could love me. I never awoke again.

A young woman found my body, behind a dumpster. I watched her walk out from the nearby building as I floated above my naked self. My scars under my breasts were practically invisible and the ones between my legs were beginning to fade. I covered myself in lavender and tea tree oil every day—it was my daily ritual. The relief brought me happiness. I knew how to heal myself but I couldn’t undo what my prince had done.

I passed the first months after death watching you. I hovered over you when you walked alone at night. I rubbed oils on you during your sleep. I wanted to heal the pain my absence caused. But when I read over your shoulder that they excluded my name, the name I chose for the real me, I wished I could live again. They erased me, replaced me with the helpless boy my mother raised. They convicted my prince for killing a man, even though I grew up to be a woman. It was anger that forced me to listen. I heard the cries from others like me. Some cried to die, others prayed to live. I couldn’t allow for them be alone in such desperation. I left your side to be with them. I applied oils and spoke comforting words as they whispered their wishes. Each time I arrived at a newly bruised body, I feared it might be you.

Today, my worst fear came true. But now I can truly be the wiser woman you need me to be. You have a choice Marisol, you can choose to die today or to live past tomorrow, live to speak aloud our names. Give them a reason to speak yours in the present, let mine be a legend. You must choose between life and death. Only you can choose.

Tell me my dear sister, tell me what you desire, I will help with the pain. Inhale the sage I burn for you now, it will cleanse you of any doubts and give you strength to speak. Is it life or death you seek?

I will make whichever wish you choose come true.

Sarah Rafael García is a writer, arts educator and conceptual artist. Since publishing Las Niñas (Floricanto Press 2008), she founded Barrio Writers, LibroMobile and Crear Studio. In 2015, she completed a M.F.A. in Creative Writing with an emphasis in Fiction and cognate in Media Studies. In 2016, Sarah Rafael was awarded in part by The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, through an Artist-in-Residence initiative at CSUF Grand Central Art Center, to develop the multi-media project titled SanTana’s Fairy Tales (Raspa Magazine 2017). In 2018, she held an artist residency at The Guesthouse, Cork, Ireland and was honored as an Emerging Artist at the 19th Annual Orange County Arts Awards. Most recently, Sarah Rafael García was selected as a 2019 University of Houston Kathrine G. McGovern College of the Arts and Project Row Houses Fellow. She currently splits her time between stacking books at her tiny bookstore in Santa Ana, California and developing her forthcoming sci-fi literary project in Houston, Texas. To read more about the SanTana Fairy Tale collection, see this excellent review at De Colores: The Raza Experience in Books for Children and please look for the book and purchase it online.

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nicholasthompson · 6 years

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seventeen hours . self

→ thursday, november 22 // where: santa monica, california

It takes seventeen hours to drive from Bellevue, Washington, to Gabrielle Welch’s home town of Santa Monica, California, all of which could be compacted into a simple three hour flight over the west coast. Nick and Gabby chose the latter with no debate. For years Nick had dreamed of riding down the Pacific coast on his motorcycle, the wind surrounding him as he immersed himself with the scenery he had grown to love. A car ride, though, even with the person he loved the most in his life, sounded like more than either of them could handle. This was especially so with Gus tagging along, the idea of having to stop every so many hours to let the little dachshund stretch his legs being one of the factors which swayed their choice. What was three hours of sitting in Nick’s lap compared to being in an out of a car? And why not, with Gus’s certification as Nick’s emotional support animal easily allowing him in the plane’s cabin with the couple.

The Welch family had welcomed them into their home on Wednesday afternoon with open arms, Gabby’s parents and siblings happy to see the Washington-based couple for the first time in a few months. The evening was spent catching up with each other, brothers talking to Nick and Gabby gushing about how life had been with her mother and sister, nieces and nephews mixing and mingling with the adults as they conversed with each other. The atmosphere was warm, something Nick had missed so much and found himself anxiously anticipating for the days to come as he and Gabby called it a night and tucked themselves into bed, both exhausted from traveling.

Nick got up earlier than Gabby on Thanksgiving morning, the rising sun reflecting over the view of the Pacific that the Welch residence overlooked a pleasant, silent alarm. Quietly he dressed for the day, visiting the bathroom before exiting and wandering downstairs. Coffee was at the top of his to-do list, though there were more pressing topics on his mind, tasks that he had to check off before the trip was over.

Michael Welch was an early riser, something Nicholas had figured out in past visits to their home or from phone calls he’d made to Gabby on weekends. Once or twice they’d been woken up by them on a lazy Saturday morning, not that either of them minded the sound of his voice coming through the receiver. The beginning of Nick’s relationship with Michael had been rough, Gabby’s father concerned over Nick’s ambitions, his age, the state of his mind while openly confessing how serious he was about his daughter, It was that, though, which changed Michael’s view on Nick - the man’s pure and honest dedication to the girl that had flipped his life upside down in all of the best ways. Nicholas earned a smile from the man, already pouring himself a cup of coffee before grabbing a mug for Nick to have some as well. Several silent moments passed between them in the kitchen, each man sipping on the strong, hot brew, becoming more awake and aware with every second that ticked by.

Nick spoke up first: not a good morning, not a hello, but something that took Michael by surprise.

“Could I talk to you a minute? I...I think right now is a good time.”

Michael glanced around the room, then nodded yes, taking the hint from Nick that this was a private conversation and guiding him into his downstairs office.

“Anything I should be worried about?” the older man asked Nick as he took his time shutting the door, a soft click signifying the separation between them and the rest of the family. “It’s not often I get asked to have a private conference first thing in the morning. Everything alright?”

Nicholas shook his head and took a seat in one of the chairs opposite Michael’s across the stately desk the man used to work from home from time to time. He’d taken Nick in the same room a few times before to show him around, the two bonding over book collections and their taste in whiskey, Nick having a glass of Michael’s prized bourbon he kept under locked in the privacy of this small sanctum. “No, nothing’s wrong,” he spoke up, finally, watching Michael Welch take a seat in front of him. “Everything is great, actually. Better than ever. That’s...that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Michael settled back into his plush, leather chair, hands folding in his lap while he waited attentively for Nick to begin whatever it was that he so desperately needed his attention for.

“When we first met I pulled you to the side and told you exactly what my intentions were when it comes to Gabby. I wanted you to know then how much your daughter means to me, how happy she makes me, how that never in a million years could I so much as imagine hurting her.” He paused, swallowed, and took a slow breath, thinking where he needed to go next. “That was the same day that I first admitted that I love her, and in the months that have passed since then I’ve realized that I have never loved anyone the same way that I love Gabby, and the longer I think about it, and the longer that I spend time with her, I realized that I could never possibly love another person that isn’t her.”

Nicholas watched Michael’s face soften, eyes focused intently on Nick’s face as he spoke so gently about his daughter, the little girl that he’d dedicated his life to giving back to after watching her battle things that no one would expect a child to endure. Gabby was special to the entire family, which was why they had all been so thrilled to see her happy with a person, living out the life she so greatly deserved with someone that was entirely dedicated to her.

“We hadn’t been together long before I knew how much I love her, how special she is, how lucky I am to get to be with her every single day. And, it wasn’t long after that day that I realized that...Michael, she’s it. She’s all there is for me, the one thing that I know I have done right in my life. Everything else could go to hell, and as long as I have her I would still be the happiest man on Earth. I feel like my entire life, every shitty thing that has happened, every happy moment, every step I’ve taken, it’s all been pieces of a puzzle that led me to her when they were all put together. I feel like I’m at home when I’m with her. She is my home, I guess,” he thought aloud, the idea bringing a smile of sincerity to his face. “I really enjoy being home. I never thought I would feel this way. I felt so lost earlier this year and now I feel like I am doing exactly what I need to be doing, waking up every morning with the person that I’m meant to spend every day of my life with. I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“I’ve been thinking about having this talk with you a lot recently. I knew that the next time I got to sit with you in person would be the day that I could finally sit and speak man to man. There have been countless days before today that I could have asked her just because everything about this relationship feels so right that it feels wrong to not be...” He stopped, inhaling a deep breath to slow himself down. “I haven’t pursued these urges because I wanted to do things the right way. I know how much your family means to you and how much it means to Gabby. You’ve been the best father figure to me I’ve had since my own passed away ten years ago, and I would never want to do anything to disrespect either of you. I love Gabby, and I love all of you, every single one of you. If you’d let me, I’d like to use the rest of my days to show you all exactly that. If you would let me, I would love to wake up every morning as a part of your family, beside your daughter, doing everything that I can to make her happy, to provide a good life for her, to give her everything in the world she could possibly need. Michael, if I could have your permission, I would be honored to ask your daughter to marry me.”

A short silence passed between the two men once those words left Nick’s lips, the younger of the two staring intently across the desk at the man he hoped would be his future father-in-law. He was taking it all in, Nick could see that, every word being processed in full while his gaze stayed locked on Nick’s.

“I had a feeling,” he started, leaning forward to prop his elbows on the desktop. “That day during the summer, I had a feeling that this would end up happening one day. I could tell by how you looked at her, how you talked about her. I was there at one point in my life, looking at Gabrielle’s mother the same way, feeling the way that you do. I remember going to her father and asking him the same thing you’re asking me now and how nervous I felt waiting for him to just say yes.” A smile curved his lips, a warm sensation buzzing through Nick’s body while he waited for the one word he so desperately wanted to hear.

“I have faith in you, Nick, that you’re a good man and you’ll continue to be a good man. I expect nothing less of you than to treat my daughter with the utmost respect, that you’ll take care of her, protect her, never hurt her, and make her feel loved and appreciated. If you can promise to do all of that for me - for her - then my answer is yes. I would love nothing more than for you to marry my daughter.”

The answer was a given, Nick never giving Michael a reason to doubt that he’d make a good life partner for Gabby, but Nick still let out a quiet sigh of relief. Those last words resonated in his mind, echoing over and over as he felt his body buzz with joy. I would love nothing more than for you to marry my daughter. And Nick would love nothing more than that, too. He got up from his seat with a new found confidence surging through his bones propelling him to span the small gap between himself and Michael to embrace the man in a grateful hug. “I promise I won’t let you down. I won’t let either of you down. If there’s anything in the world that I know for a fact, it’s that we’re meant to be with each other. She...she’s my person. My other half. I never knew I could feel this way until I met her.”

Tender moments were exchanged between the two men before they both left the office, both of them doing their best to hid the smiles beaming from their faces as to not stir suspicion by anyone else in the household. Gabby’s mom would know later, there was no way Michael could keep any secrets from her, he’d said. Nick would continue to keep his lips sealed until the perfect day in the perfect spot, seventeen hours away from Santa Monica.

#self para #self #p: seventeen hours #long post so under a cut!#also posting early because i'm 1) excited to post it #and 2) i may be cooking all thursday

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