#bi-coloured damsel

[dinoserious]

orange tailed marsh dart

#damselfly #orange-tailed marsh dart #bi-coloured damsel #big #insect #didnt get to do a damsel this invertober so heres a fella. also refreshing my main blog icon i like keeping it my damsel art

[drafthearse]

Ceriagrion cerinorubellum is a species of damselfly in the family Coenagrionidae. It's commonly known as the Bi-coloured damsel or Orange-tailed marsh dart. Here it is eating a Lepidoptera.

#Ceriagrion cerinorubellum #damselfly #insects #predation #bugs #finds #carcass

[thelemonsabbath]

The Damsel steals a kiss

This is a spicy continuation of my last picture https://www.deviantart.com/nk11/art/The-Damsel-isn-t-so-distressed-993027260 So while Miki is unphased by Ryo's previous attempt to threaten her with a knife even as he cuts away at her dress, Ryo himself isn't immune to her charms and easily falls into the kiss she gives him.. >:3

Again this was fun to draw and colour but man that kissing pose was tricky for me! XD 

(btw everyone in this picture are aged up to adults, I hc everyone is bi and ryo is intersex)

Btw if you like what you see and want a commission drop me a direct message on tumblr, instagram, a note on deviantart or artistree https://artistree.io/missn11

#devilman #ryo asuka #miki makimura #ryo/miki #lime art #lime #devilman ova #fanart #my art

[phoeeling]

Gay ships aren’t the only important type of representation. Even if Hunter wasn’t implied bi and Willow wasn’t implied pan & they were both straight, Huntlow still delivers two types of important representation: a plus-size WOC in a loving relationship isn’t something that is seen very often in cartoons. Plus-size characters are usually written off as jokes and don’t get to be in romantic relationships.

Also a m/f couple is still queer if both of them aren’t straight so let’s cool it with calling them “heteronormative”, especially since they aren’t… like at all. Just because Hunter saved her once this episode while she was having a breakdown doesn’t mean she’s suddenly a damsel in distress.

is that really what you got from what I said? That’s completely unreasonable, irrational and shows poor reading comprehension. And oh, my fucking god, “”queer”” couples can still be heteronormative, and M/F couples can still subvert heteronormativity.

I know I’m going to probably get hate for this, but. yeah, hey, as a plus-size woman, can it with calling Willow “plus-size”; she’s chubby. Stop holding her on a pedestal like she’s the Ultimate Fat Representation. this is SPOP and Glimmer all over again.

and omfg with the ‘implied bi/pan’ it’s not implied unless they actually show attraction, otherwise it’s just coincidental colour palettes. Colour design is even, often, a different category of work from designs. People who design things (I.e the sweater Hunter sewed) do not inherently choose the colours.

Edit: and you know what? I’m fucking sick of people acting like something being “important representation” means it doesn’t have to be well-done, and I’m tired of people acting like criticizing something they like is a crime. M/F ships CAN be good! I like a lot of M/F ships! InuKag! Nick/Jess! Cece/Schmidt! Dwight/Angela! Michael/Holly! Micah/Angella! They CAN be good, and well written. It’s a possibility!

#asks #q slur tw #character: (has room for all their essential organs. is curvy. is chubbier than other characters) #everyone: wow what great amazing fat representation. truly this character is the epitome of a fat character. #even though she Doesn’t Have a Stomach #wow this character wears what? a L? an XL?? omg plus size queen 💅 so valid and progressive that we got (1) plus size 😍

[may-shepard]

Supernatural and Me, Painting With What I Hope Will Be Gradually Increasing Skill 1x02: Wendigo

I feel like I didn’t apologise sufficiently in my previous post to anyone associated with petrykivka as an art form. I am but a humble aspirer to painting cute flowers on my cupboards, and may creep back off into the cowardly stencil option if this proves fruitless, har har, that’s a joke because a lot of petrykivka features fruit:

via Unknown Ukraine

2m: Hey there’s Cory Monteith! I didn’t know he was in this episode!

Oh.

Also I have to admit, at this time of posting this I’ve watched ahead to Dead in the Water (1x03) and I know that there is a Bathtub Incident in that episode, and here we have Dude Peeing and Things Not Going Well, I seriously think there’s a theme here.

It’s either Basic Bodily Functions and Self-Care Are Potentially Deadly or Don’t Read Joseph Campbell in the Woods:

Because

I know myself well enough to know that I’m going to end up finding Sam and Dean’s relationship endearing, so I’m giving myself full permission to be all in because Dean asks Sam if he wants to drive the car which means he’s really worried about him. Believe me when I say I’m fully prepared to believe that these are the facial expressions of two dudes who really care about each other:

After last time, I decided to ditch the chalk paint and go direct to the acrylics, because yikes. Tonight’s palette is purple, blue, and pink, with a skootch of yellow, which hahaha I am howling because when I chose them I did not take in the fact that these are the colours of bi pride (plus yellow, idk man, sunshine?). I’m so bi it just leaches out through my aesthetics 24/7, hey, that’s what Dean said amirite?

I’m practicing putting together the techniques I was practicing last time into some kind of vague flower shape which is maybe supposed to look like this, ish (also LOL even this tutorial is bi af, what the hell):

15m Ayyyyy Callum Keith Rennie is in this episode! Nvm Battlestar Galactica have you seen Hard Core Logo?

There are some good thoughts about Callum Keith Rennie here. 

28m okay but I love it as a horror trope when the Thing that’s Out There emulates the voice of a human who’s scared or in pain or is screaming for help, so this is awesome. (If you’re into that trope too, there’s a very good version of it in Annihilation, one of the best horror movies of the past decade, which pairs beautifully with Midsommar for being pastel-coloured but still dreadful in all the best ways.) 

This flower is turning out better than any of my others so far:

How do we feel about native monsters being used in mainstream, non-Native-made horror? It gives me a yikes-y feeling, especially when the interpretation of the monster is essentially a nosferatu crossed with a grizzly bear, but wendigo’s interesting if you dig a bit. The most terrifying read on it I’m aware of is Columbus and Other Cannibals: The Wetiko Disease of Exploitation, Imperialism, and Terrorism by Jack D. Forbes, who wrote:

CANNIBALS is focused upon my use of the Native American concept of the “Wetiko” psychosis, the disease of cannibalism. I believe that the exploitative consumption of the earth, the living creatures of the earth, and, above all, other human beings and their homelands, constitute actual, real, unmitigated cannibalism. Tragically, the cannibalism of which I write has become more and more an acceptable part of modern economic and personal exploitation, with those who do the consuming giving little or no thought to the diminishing or even elimination of the lives of those at the receiving end of their quest for profit and super-sustenance.

More here if you’re interested. 

33m Dean as damsel in distress, I like it! Does this happen a lot?

34m:

Extremely toxic material much like life under imperialist capitalism, yeah? “Do Not Enter” I mean, if only we could exit!

37m “Check it out: flareguns.” 

“Those will work.”

Use the flaregun of your passion for justice and / or literal flareguns, either will do against the cannibalistic impulse that drives capitalism, I guess.

All of a sudden I’m liking this episode. Also make your own joke here about failing to hydrate or w/e.

Potential deep veins for later on: the idea that Sam and Dean’s family is totally screwed, but they can help these orphans have a happy ending, so sweet? I like it as a motivation. Also do all the guest star women kiss Dean on the lips at the end of each episode? Hm.

I didn’t go much further with this flower, since I felt as though some of the detail work was beyond me and the potential to fuck it up was high, but I did use the last of my rapidly drying paint to do a pic of the monster from this episode. I didn’t want to blow him up all over and I wasn’t sure the colours I had to work with would make a good splosion, so I gave him a weird flower instead that magically made him super happy. (Picture him exploding with joy in a moment, if you’d still like him blown up, or idk gleefully embracing a better standard of behaviour than compulsive people-eating.)

For good or for ill this post is part of a series:

1x01

#supernatural #spn 1x02 #petrykivka #bad art #may watches supernatural from the beginning

[six4tyfour]

A Fistful of Copper

Being a tale of magical wonder, chilling courage, despicable cheerfulness, mechanical monstrosities, eldritch engines, the occasional damsel in distress, and, of course, money.

[ I ]

"WHAT in bloody Gaia's name is that thing!?"

From his vantage point in the watchtower, the corporal stared incredulously at the shambling, small mountain of loose metal parts and streaming smoke. His men shook their heads, speechless.

It emitted the most atrocious noise. Even from high up in the tower, he could hear the constant screech - not unlike nails being dragged down a chalkboard - the loud clanking, and the jarring jangle of loose metal. Twin plumes of mustard coloured smoke streamed from cracks in its stramge hide, forming a thick cloud in its wake.

By the corporal's estimation, the damned thing was still about two miles distant. And closing, seemingly faster than it looked.

Being along the wilder stretch of the Frontier, vigilance and paranoia went hand in hand. This was regarded as not only an occupational hazard but as a highly desired trait. With that in mind, the corporal started ringing the alarm bell like his very soul depended on it.

Like an overturned anthill, the once still outpost suddenly sprang to life. Troopers streamed from the barracks built into the very walls of the Gellen Pass.

A hooded figure raised their arms, a warm glow wrapping around them. The very rocks of the pass melted, flowing forward to form a ring of high battlements across the pass' mouth.

As the outposts' soldiery ran to their posts, a thunderous roar echoed down the pass. The stable doors swung open on clockwork arms, revealing a pair of colossal machines. Built like humanoid knights of old, the thickset constructs belched smoke the colour of nightshade from long, single brass stacks. Bull-sized, hammer-like fists were sheathed in crackling arcs of bluish lightning and underslung with short barrelled brass contraptions that reeked of ozone. Their armour was covered in engravings of storm clouds and forked lightning, which emitted an eerie blue glow.

The two machines strode smoothly down the road, gears and hydraulic pistons whirring in a purr. Another figure - begoggled, armoured and wielding a bladed stave - stood between the two as they came to a halt in a cloud of dust and smoke. Dwarfed easily by the machines, he was easily overlooked. He ran a gauntleted hand through his messy mane.

As the troopers piled into fortified bunkers and reinforced trenches, and scrambled up to man the completed battlements, the hooded one floated over them and landed just behind machines' chaperone. Pulling back her hood, long auburn hair flowed in waves across her shoulders and down her back. Her fringe covered the upper half of her face, leaving only her pert little nose, cheeks and full lips visible. She cocked her head slightly.

"Can you hear that, Gavin?"

Just above the cacophonous din of the approaching creature, a high-pitched, shrill whistling was barely audible. The whistling itself seemed cheerful.

In fact, much too cheerful. Despicably so, in Gavin's estimation.

Nodding, he replied, "Indeed. Just about barely, mind."

Glancing at him, she stated, "Sounds rather familiar, doesn't it."

Before he could reply, a loud crack echoed across the pass as both of them felt a sudden distortion as the air in front of them was suddenly displaced, streaming past and carrying a sulphurous odor.

They found themselves staring at the huge bulk of a machine, draped with a large and very filled mesh net of metal bits and pieces, just inches from their very noses. They both took a quick step back as Gavin's machines took a step forward, flexing their fists.

A hearty laugh was heard as something dropped to the ground, with a puff of dust, in front of the pair.

They both blinked at what appeared to be a small child wearing a wide brimmed hat and clad in a leather jacket, grease stained vest and baggy overalls bloused into thick shin-high boots.

She pinched the brim of the hat, tipping it, while bearing an ear to ear grin.

"Top o' the a'ternoon to yur both, Sur Gavin, Mistress Saphira. S'bin a long woile, eh!"

A collective shout, equal parts dismay and relief, rang out.

"THE HALFER?!"

---

Extra notes:

1 Most mages in this world are called Casters. Eg. Warcasters who use their magic with military purposes, Tekcasters (rare outside of foundry/forge cities) who use their magic mostly for the creation of items and technology (such as it is), Hexcasters who cast curses and huck up aggressive spells (think witches and warlocks), and so on.

2 The halfling is a Tekcaster by the name of Magraudlin "Mags" O'Roark, who's an army veteran, trader, tinker and talented machinesmith. She is possessed of endless cheerfulness, which some think is some sort of unbreakable hex, and an incurable curiousity. She is practically infamous along the Frontier and can often prove to be a frustrating character to deal with.

3 Mags' machine is a siege-grade custom ironclad named Wideload, which is powered by a custom-built V-twin stack 'flashcore' eldritch engine powered by coal. It also has the ability to absorb fire & lightning strikes for use as power/fuel. It is armed with Stormhammer fists as well as a pair of recessed large caliber HEAP (High Explosive Armor Piercing) slugthrowers in its shoulders while being protected by thick layers of armour. Due to its sheer weight, its considered to be slower than most other modern ironclads. However, the custom-built engine not only allows for a short boost in speed, but possesses the ability to 'flashstep', which is a form of short-ranged teleportation. There is a small saddle for Mags so she can ride on it. In addition, the Jack is capable of quadrupedal movement using its massive arms as another pair of legs which doubles its ground speed, and allows it to carry up to five times its own tonnage. Like most custom-built ironclads, its armour is adorned with unique adornments. In Wideload's case, they take the form of engraved clockwork mechanisms and embossed dragonscales.

4 All ironclads are powered by Eldritch Engines, usually a single stack of a rugged, robust nature. Eldritch engines use different kinds of fuel, depending on purpose, maker and model, which can vary from enchanted coal to molten lava.

5 Most ironclads require Casters to control them, though rumours persist of ironclads developing personalities and gaining sentience. These rumours are still unproven, however.

#magepunk #steampunk #ironclad #story #original #a fistful of copper #being part of a story that was never finished

[supersleepygoat]

Finding the Something More

Pairing: Sam x Bi!Reader, Gabriel x Bi!Reader (all platonic)

Requested by Anonymous: Hey can I request an angst fix with a fluffy ending with either Sam or Gabe? Either the reader just came out as Bi to her parents who disowned her or she caught her girlfriend cheating on her??

Summary: You are having the worst week of your life. Your girlfriend broke your heart and your parents kicked you out because of it. To top it off, you get attacked by a supernatural creature. However, the men who save you from the monster may be able to save you in more ways than one.

Word Count: 2,599

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Violence. Language.

Masterlist

Submit your REQUEST here

You are sitting cross-legged on a park bench. The wood is wet from when it rained earlier and it’s making a shiver creep into your bones. You look over your shoulder at the twenty-four-hour diner across the street. You open your wallet. Somehow, fifteen dollars will have to last you until… until who knows when.

You grab your bag and walk over to the diner. You must have been too lost in your thoughts. You failed to notice the large stranger reaching for the door at the same time you had. When you accidently collide with him, you both apologize. He holds the door open wider and gestures for you to go through first, ahead of him and his companion. You offer him a shy smile as thanks and move into the dinner.

While you wait for your take out, the bell above the door rings and it catches your attention. The air in your lungs is all but kicked out of you when you hear an all too familiar laugh come in through the door. Against your better judgment, you look toward the sound.

Your ex-girlfriend is arm-in-arm with another woman, probably the other woman.

“Y/N?” your name falls from her well-known lips. Her voice is hesitant. It is as if she is uncomfortable seeing you so soon after everything happened. That makes two of you. “How are you?” your ex questions you with an awkward half smile.

You let out a humourless laugh. She ruined everything and now she wants to make small talk?

“I’m just great,” you finally gain the nerve to look back up at her.

“I heard about – Did you work things out with your parents?” She asks as if she doesn’t want to know the real answer.

“That’s really none of your business anymore,” is your merciful reply.

The woman draped over your ex tightens her grip on your past lover’s arm. She offers you sly smile. She is reminding you of her claim. It’s a subtle gesture that signifies her victory – and your defeat.

You push yourself off your chair and shake your head in frustration. You push past the two women who took everything from you and head for the door. In your haste, you bump into the same tall stranger from before. You look up at him to apologize, but the words are stuck in your throat. All of the rejection you had faced in the past few days, both from the woman you love and even your own parents, cripples your ability to speak. The man can see the unshed tears in your eyes. In empathy, his face falls and mirrors your own. He is about to say something but you slip away and leave the diner.

“Order up!” the waitress calls for you to pick up your much-needed food. But, you’re already gone.

Gabriel groans. “Why are we wasting our time looking for this kid, Sam?”

Sam rolls his eyes in response.  

“It’s one measly bag of fries! I think the kid can survive without it,” Gabriel continues. “She probably ran home and got her mommy and daddy to make her a new batch of fries. Let’s just go back and grab our food. The sooner we get back to the room and feed that brother of yours, the less bitchy he will be!” Gabe says remembering how grumpy Dean was when they left him back at the motel to go pick up dinner.

Sam continues to ignore the archangel as he looks to see which way you would have gone.

“Come on, Sam!” Gabriel whines. “I want you and your brother to finish this damn hunt, so we can move on! We don’t have time to go running after a random angsty teen. I mean, a Rugaru hunt is always a fun pit stop. But, we have bigger fish to fry! Or have you forgotten about my big bro and his plan to storm troop his way into our world and-”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Sam finally exclaims when he’s had enough of Gabriel’s ramblings.

“Nope,” Gabe says with a pop. “Admit it, you missed me. You missed this,” Gabe says as he gestures between him and Sam.

Sam only rolls his eyes, again.

Before Gabriel can start in on Sam again, the men hear scuffling and a short yelp come from behind the diner. Sam hands Gabe the bag of your fries and rushes off toward the sound. Now, it is Gabriel’s turn to roll his eyes. He opens the bag and starts munching on the salty treats as he lazily follows Sam into action.

When the men turn the corner, they expect to see the worst. Rugarus always leave a mess. Instead, they see you holding your own against the creature that was once human. A surprised Sam looks over to Gabe. The archangel merely shrugs with an impressed look on his face before eating more of your fries.

You may be a good fighter, but you are still ill-equipped to handle whatever the hell this thing is. Eventually, your attacker gets the upper hand and tackles you to the ground. Your squeak of surprise as the creature bares its teeth and tries to bite you, brings Sam back to reality. Sam lunges forward and pulls the monster off of you. You scramble backwards. You watch as the monster turns its deadly focus onto the tall stranger.

You are frozen in shock. But, it’s more curiosity than fear. You know you should be scared. That thing just tried to eat you. Yet, fighting with that freak was the first time in the past few days in which you weren’t stuck in your dark thoughts. Kicking that guy’s ass was an oddly satisfying distraction from your crumbling world. You were able to let out the pent-up hurt you hadn’t let yourself feel or even acknowledge. Also, you suddenly realize that there may be more important things in this world to worry about.

Sam is still tussling with the Rugaru. “Oh, for crying out loud!” Gabe exclaims with bored irritation. He throws the precious bag of fries onto the ground. Gabriel finally intervenes when Sam struggles to ignite his lighter. Gabriel effortlessly reaches out a hand and smites the creature. You watch as a bright light shines through the monster’s eyes and mouth. When the light fades, the monster crashes to the ground in a lifeless heap.

“Alrighty then! Now, that beastie boy here is taken care of, hows-about we get a move on. The world ain’t going to save itself from my petulant big brother!” the fair-haired man jabbers as he claps his hands together.

“Dude,” Sam whispers as he gets himself off the ground. Sam motions his eyes in your direction and Gabriel follows his gaze. You are still on the ground, sitting there stunned.

“Oh, right… I forgot about the damsel,” Gabe says with guilty eyes.

“I’m not a damsel!” you inform the men as you are broken out of your trance and get up to stand to your full height.

“My bad, doll face! Nice moves by the way, very Buffy-esque,” Gabriel sings with a wink.

“Um thanks,” you hesitate. How are these guys so calm right now?

Sam moves in front of Gabriel and steps toward you. “I know you probably have a lot of questions. But trust me, you’re better off forgetting this ever happened. I’m sorry this happened to you but it’s safer if you don’t ask too many questions.” Sam’s tone is comforting. Plus, the firm hand he places on your shoulder is more reassuring than you thought possible. Despite everything that has happened to you, you feel safe under his touch.

“That thing wasn’t human, was it?” you ask in fear that you already know the answer.

“Winner winner chicken dinner!” Gabe chimes.

“Dude!” Sam warns his friend to shut his mouth. You simply nod your understanding. Unfortunately, learning monsters are real isn’t even the worst news you’ve gotten this week. “Look kid,” Sam continues in a softer tone as he addresses you directly. “Maybe you should head home. Forget this happened,” Sam pleads. He doesn’t want you to know the full extent of what is really out there. Especially since he assumes you have an apple-pie life waiting for you at home.

You huff out a sad laugh. “Yeah, sure thing.” You offer him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. It’s clear he wants to get rid of you. If these men can so casually kill a real-life monster, then they clearly have bigger things to worry about. They don’t need to know you have no one waiting for you. They don’t need to know that no one would have missed you, had that thing actually killed you. It’s better if you just get out of their hair.

“She doesn’t have a home, Sammy,” Gabe says as he picks up the discarded bag of fries and resumes snacking on its contents.

Your eyes snap up to the shorter man. “How do you-”

“Relax, kiddo. I know all sorts of things,” he winks at you and taps his temple with his forefinger. “I didn’t see it at first… but I hear you loud and clear now, darling,” the man continues. He stares at you as if he is reading you like a book. It is slightly unnerving.

Sam looks at the archangel, then back at you. You meet his gaze for only a moment before casting your eyes to the ground. “Is that true?” Sam asks.

You nod and shrug.

“What happened? Where are you staying?” Sam asks. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounds sincerely interested.

You flop your hands down to your side. “My parents, they like to say they are accepting and ‘progressive’,” you add air quotes to emphasize the ridiculousness of the claim. “But, when they found out their precious daughter is bisexual, their true colours shone through. And, their true colours weren’t in favour of the rainbow.”

You were hoping to leave it at that. But, the men only stare at you expectantly. Their eyes urge you to continue. It is oddly comforting to have someone listen to you, to care about your story. So, you continue.  “I came home a few days ago a total mess. I had just found out my girlfriend had cheated on me. I loved her but… yeah.” You trail off.  The idea of the woman you love wrapped in the arms of someone else, clouds your ability to think straight.  

“Anyway, I was too messed up to care that I hadn’t come out to parents yet. I just wanted them to help me feel better. But, when they found out that my heart was broken over a girl, they stopped trying to comfort me. As if non-heterosexual heartache doesn’t count as real heartache,” you scoff.

“Mommy dearest said this is a phase. She said there is no such thing as being ‘bisexual’. And, that I must be gay but am too chicken shit to admit it. My dad,” you voice breaks for moment. “My dad said that over his dead body is his little girl going to be with another woman. Only, he used much more colourful language. So, they gave me an ultimatum. Either I stay and be who they expected me to be or I leave and don’t come back. So, I left,” you try to shrug but the men can tell you are anything but indifferent. “I couldn’t pretend anymore.”

There is a moment of silence before Gabriel speaks up, “What dick bags!”

You cannot stop a small giggle from escaping your lips. “My sentiments exactly,” you agree. “But as it turns out, I may have made a mistake. They may not accept me or see me as having a legitimate identity. But, I don’t think I’m ready to be on my own yet.” You finally admit to both the strangers and to yourself.

“You never answered my other question,” Sam states with a soft voice. “Where are you staying?”

“Around,” you shrug again. Sam’s eyes bear into you. You can all but feel him pull the truth out of you with his pleading hazels. You sigh in defeat. “I found me a mighty nice park bench across the way. Well lit, not too uncomfortable,” you try to maintain a casual tone but shame slips out with your words. You’ve only been on your own for a few days. You are already out of money, have no friends to crash with, and to top it off, you got attacked by actual monster. This is not how you imagined your life turning out. “I thought about swallowing my pride, crawling back to my parents with my tail between my legs. But, that’s not me. I’d rather be on my own then live with people who can’t acknowledge me for who I really am. I know my heart is legitimate. I know I am worthy of something more than what they have to offer me.”

Sam runs a frustrated hand down his face. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“I’m Sam and this is Gabriel-”

“How do ya do?” Gabe cuts in. He bows with his greeting and it makes you giggle again.

Sam levels Gabe with a look that tells him to keep quiet. “Look, I’m sorry that happened to you. You don’t deserve that. No one does.” Sam places the comforting hand back on your shoulder.

“Yeah, screw them! Some people just act like dicks when they are forced to face something they can’t wrap their narrow little minds around. Remember kid, I know all sorts of things, and you’re the real deal. And, as for your girl? Her loss!” Gabriel interrupts Sam to speak his mind.

You can’t help but smile at his directness. You have been waiting a long time to hear someone reassure you that none of this was your fault.

“That said,” Sam continues once Gabriel finally stops talking. “You need to be somewhere safe. You can’t keep living outside. It’s too dangerous. We may have taken down this monster but there are always more. Not to mention, there are humans that may try to take advantage of you being out here on your own like this,” Sam says with caution.

“I can take care of myself,” you state firmly.

“Oh, we saw that clear as day, sugar,” Gabe chimes in.

“Being a good fighter isn’t everything,” Sam informs you. “You need people to back you up. Do you have any other family you can stay with?”

“I told you, my parents-”

Sam smiles and shakes his head. “Family doesn’t end in blood, but it doesn’t start there either,” Sam says. His smile grows as he thinks of the man who said first said those words.

“There’s no one. It’s only me,” you whisper.

“No,” Sam says in denial. “Look, I know someone who may be able to help you. She has a habit of taking in strays who need to find their way.”  Sam looks to the Rugaru corpse on the ground behind him. You did put up a good fight. He doesn’t want to throw you into the life if you don’t need to be. But, a roof, proper food, and Jody’s maternal instincts may be exactly what you need, what you deserve. No one will force you into hunting. Maybe you can get a job and help in other ways, like Alex. But, any way Sam thinks about it, he cannot leave you here like this. “You ever been to Sioux Falls, kid?”

Forever Tags:

@phonegalhelp @arses21434 @mogaruke @spn-ficfanatic @winchestersister55

#supernatural #spn #spnfamily #fanfic #sam winchester #gabriel #reader insert #sam x reader #gabriel x reader #bisexual #bisexual reader #angst #fluff

[whieldonflyfishing]

How to Fly Fish Stillwater

  STILLWATER TROUT FISHING

One of the amazing places for learners to get introductions is stock Stillwater. The springs are probably the best time to fish in these sort of places and the best time to practice the sport. We are now telling you the Lake fly fishing for trout beginning guidelines.

  No matter if you're new in the business or you're someone who wants to come back from a long break of fly fishing. These are my ultimate list of choices, including how to fish wet flies and how to fish dry flies both.

  Find out the best location.

It will never be your time wasted when you give your moments to the research about your next purpose. The best sources you can use our social media and the available online reports about fishing games. To be very honest, I have found out that the better the services of games and consistency in sport, the better you'll find them engaging on social platforms. Also, you have to look even deeper and look at the positive vibes from visiting people.

  When you are fishing in the best-stocked venues and places, you'll be having a better experience of fishing every time. Most popular venues are likely to have more fish turnover and will be restocked regularly.

  Also, the more fishermen there on the site, you can see them doing their experiments, asking your related questions and learning from them. Most of the fishermen love to share their methods of fishing with their hearts. Also, you can spot a tackle shop to buy a killer fly they suggested to you.

  Our most favourite fly is Ar orange Head woolly starter with which we recommend to use it with manly built commercial puddles with rainbow and brook trout alternatively. We use this pattern because it's a larger size. A very amazing attraction bigger (contrasts of orange head) and a smaller (black woolly bugger). It seems a universal fly pattern that especially adores rainbow trout at the start of the cold spring season(start of the season on the commercial reservoir of trout).

  Also, at the start of autumn seasons until the surface of the stream freezes. (Half time of the trout, fishing seasons on still water.) As the names say it all (starter), we prefer to follow this sequence of fishing to locate the occurrence and activities of the fishes on water locality.

  Prefer Clearwater puddle

It will be boasting much confidence of the fisherman when they notice the pattern of fishes on every cast. That's why we always recommend a clear water puddle. It also gives this choice to play willingly with different flies to tie and depth without having the worry of Fish watching the fly.  The clear pool will be making you the visible closeness of fishes to the bank and depth of the water.

  You are also able to see the contours, weed beds, etc. And obviously, all will be helping you locate the fish colonies. When you finally get some practice to work, then you fish smaller flies such as buzzers, which can be attentive to fishes and any worm.

  Our other very favourite and amazing for Stillwater rainbow fishing is AR HOT HEAD YELLOW KILLER, especially at the start of this season. This pattern is amazing for the first time chase, just after the water surfaces freeze on the dams. When in clean and cold water, hypnotizes the trout to strike over. Great fly, and when you're hunting for freshly stocked fishes, they always pay a serious responsibility to simple extraordinary flies of the same kind. In the big size, we utilize the hot yellow lure as the point flies.

  But just because we don't like fishing with the large and bright shaded lure, we reduce the size and move this fly to the position of excellent Dropper fly. It stimulates the Fish, which is a low attentive natural fly on the point. Schedules like gold head lure with a black marabou tail and a body of peacock spectra dubbing (spring months) or a white gold head ambush with chartreuse thorax in the cat's whiskers style ( cold months of autumn ) the whole pattern is revised by the slow to medium paced figure to eight utilizing slow and intermediate or subsurface hoverfly line.

  Want to know about the complete killer of big trout who, it's no one, then AR FISH FRY BOOBY STREAMER. They roam around the bottom of the coast, looking for more meat. This fly is comparatively bigger and light coloured small fish patterns made for targeted fishing for fry feeders (An English term for the large trout fly fishing from reservoirs who take fry Fish in fall).

  The pattern of big trout focusing on the flocks of smaller fishes in the other natural areas works well on still water in the planned wishing on large rainbow trout. We used this pattern around four or five months ago, but time was responsible for the many very big Rainbow and their surroundings Rainbow for fly fishing for trout which are reserving a very long time very inactive but in most of the time occurrence in Dams tends to stick to the bank fairly better than to open water.

  Rods

No matter if you want to lay down the dry flies with finesse or sending pennants to the far places, the family of sonic products are always here to comfort you with the best uncompromising versatility with a balancing of power and feel.Happily crisp And very light weighted.

  The sonic products always stand out with powerful performances and taper designs to give you the fishing application of dry fly, streamers, nymphing and floating the lines of sinking. Built on kinetic technology blanks, they have excellent tracking qualities because they're naturally responsive in hands. It's ready to be used for any purpose the day has in store.

  We coloured it in a juniper shaft colours with hardwood insert (anodized aluminum matte slate on the but t model warriors.) The threads of charcoal wrap around that mix with the black spaces. The elegant design by sonic sports can look perfect in most of the flying fish atmosphere. It is made in the USA and made in the premium rod bag and tube. We have seen every stop to create a family of rods suitable for any kind of angler in any location.

  Features to look for

Connecticut technology

Black coloured like juniper

Wrapped with Charcoal primary thread with gunmetal trims wraps

Fuji ceramic stripper guides

Tiptop hard chromed snake guides

  Benefits

helps in many application

Componentry and black premium

Lighter weight and more efficient.

  Recommendation

Sage igniter single-handed fly rods.

 There are conditions that demand different tools or things to handle the stress right. Head wing strong? Is Fish far? Weighted rigs? Are sink tips heavy? The igniters have been tuned to tackle the most technicals of conditions. Not a single rod for daily fishers, the igniters are well equipped with very high line velocity tapers to carry the massive amount of distances with wind cutting achievements. Very suitable for streamer fishing and heavy sink tips or turnover the low conditions covering the big water. If you are bringing your will, you will be served by,

  features

Connecticut Technology

Chipotle blank colour

Cayenne wrapping of threads with trim wraps gunmetals.

Stripper guide of Fuji ceramic.

Tiptop and hard-chromed snake guide

Freshwater 4-6 kilograms

Cocobolo wood insert with gunmetal anodized aluminum up-locking reel seat

Floor grade snub-nosed half wells handle of corks.

Saltwater around 6-10 kilogram

Incorporated hidden hook keeper in reel seat

Flor grade full wells cork handle with EVA fighting butt

Laser-etched line weight on slide band

Dark rod bag with Titanium logo and chipotle colour model tag

Black powder-coated aluminum rod tube with a medallion of sage

  Orvis fly fishing videos for new clear water series.

Single and duo hand rods. The new collection of Orvis new clear water rod series is not a cosmetic facelift but a detailed overhaul from the bottom up by their rod designer.

But they can't change our values. It is the best fly rod you can ever have for the fortune.

  The consequence of up-gradation is performance and glances in a detailed series that is suitable to every fisher from small addiction to Skagit tossing two handlers. Each and every road has been designed by the purpose-built profile and action to deal with the kind of fishing the rod has been used for.

From the medium litigations action small stream rods to medium-fast freshwater rods and fast action big game rods.

  The blanks have white accents with black chrome

A very fast identifier on the blank

A ceramic insert with a full chrome snake and a stripping guide.

Seats of full black nickel aluminum

Rods with butts for fighting to have composite tips for vitality

Rods are bi-handed, having blended on the tip of the foregrip

Having a grey rod tube

Guarantee of silver Jubilee

formulated in Vermont.

  Floaters

Versatility is the main reason why we become so devoted to the floating line. We can cover up to 25 inches to the five feet shallowness or less than it..During the end of springs and starting of hot weather when the parklands trout focus on the rising chironomid pupa, these happen most of the time daily. Another significant reason for ensuring is that a floating line is in your kit bag and very crucial for the strike indicator presentations. 

  Strike indicators have been seen massively on the lakes. The domain of those imitating chironomid pupa and larva once utilized strike indicator method whenever fly fishing for trout is targeting the other sources of food like leeches, baitfish, damsel nymph, acids, and nymphs of a dragonfly. The strike pointer facilities for controlling two keys exhibition elements(depths and revived speed) fly representation any Stillwater forage item can be prosperously cancelled below the pointer.

   These floating lines are to be the truly amazing choice of casting and reviving weighted techniques. By analyzing the leader inches, the time of the sink weighed off pattern and retrieval speed. This is now possible and in access to reach 20 feet deep. If you want to do this, do with standard 9-15 foot leaders with fluorocarbon tippet. The density is varying up to tapered leader causes it to worsen in an arc.

  Accordingly, leaders have to be 25% longer than the depth of the water. For instance, if you want to reach 16 feet down, that will be requiring a 19-foot leader. Retrieve speeds should be comparatively slow to moderate any fast-paced and will fly climb up out of the 1-3 foot zone, from the forage from where the bottom of the trout.

  In the months of autumn, the best Lake flies for trout actively roam the shallow stocks up for the long winter season coming. A couple of floating lines with a 12-foot leader and very proportional leech or minnow pattern works magic.

  Clear  intermediate

Clear intermediate lines are crucial for still water. Many of the still water fly fishers fly fishing on the Lake are too stuck to the direct or indirect nature as it gives it the elements of stealth. Benefits are seen when paired up with cleared water conditions. Very obvious moderate lines are very favourable, showing equipment for parklands trout, which is foraging shoreline margins and weed perimeters in search of a pontoon boat or float tube. A clear intermediate is most favourite to search equal to the shore or to have weed pockets and openings.

  Fast sinker

The very last and very important type V density compensated line in my parklands fly lines trifecta. The type V lines allow you to explore deeper into a clear intermediate line that would take longer to hit. If the trout is active and much aggressive with more efficiency to catch minnow or leech patterns moved at a very slow-paced or predator such as bobby, fast sinking cords are best proved.  Time is never wasted waiting for the lines to plunge before the commencement of the retriever.

  A type called V is also a very good choice for those who are interested in searching as it will not be paddling along shoreline structure or over the beds of expensive weeds.

  Conclusion

Hopefully, these tricks and tips will make you understand more about fly fishing in lakes, and if any of you are reading, this will be up in the dry fly fish method. It would be a treat for us and for the sport.

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[swanqueenweek]

THEME VOTING & SQW DATES ANNOUNCEMENT

Event date voting has closed, and our 9th Bi-Annual Swan Queen Week will take place from July 9th - July 15th

Additionally, theme suggestions are officially closed, and theme voting has begun! Please use the link provided to vote; do not send your votes via ask/submission box/IM as those votes will not count.

Theme voting will be open from May 21st until May 31st. Below the cut is a list of the themes to choose from and important information about voting.

Voting is open to everyone, but please only vote once. Like the previous events, you can vote for your top three themes, but keep in mind that only one can win; you are voting for theme, not prompt. This means we will need to break the winning theme down into 7 smaller prompts. Once our theme is chosen, we  will open the ask and submission boxes for prompt suggestions, and any prompts fitting the chosen theme can be submitted.

Please note, you may not see your suggestion exactly as you sent it; there were a number of very similar suggestions or very specific suggestions that we combined to make the most simple and clean list possible. As always, the themes from the previous SQWs are up excluding the last one. There were also a few suggestions that were excluded as they they were too specific, were triggering or hateful or we were unsure about them. We will get better at responding to some of the suggestions that we weren’t sure about in the future. Please keep in mind that we are still learning, but we try our best to give you the best experience.

When voting, be sure to look at the options carefully as there are several prompts that can fit different themes, so if there is one prompt you really, really want, be strategic in your voting!

Suggested themes:

Bookworm; Emma and Regina in different book plots and genres, both established and new ideas. (e.g., Crime, Horror, Romance, etc.)

Butterfly effect; What if prompts where a minor change in circumstances cause a large change in outcome. (e.g., What if Emma didn’t up Henry up for adoption? What if Emma didn’t absorb the Dark Curse?, etc.)

Canon Divergence; prompts were the episodes/seasons has alternative endings. (e.g., Some people die and stay dead, It was a dream, Back to the beginning, And they lived happily ever after, etc.)

Cliches; prompts focusing on some of our favorite cliches. (e.g., Opposites attract, Time heals all wounds, etc.)

Couch Potato; Emma and Regina in different TV plots and genres, both established and new ideas. (e.g., procedurals, reality TV, sitcoms, Emmy awards, etc.)

Damsel in Distress; prompts were one lady helps the other one (e.g., Regina + flat tire, Emma + magic problems, etc.)

Day in a Year; prompts about a day in a year (e.g., Snow Day, Playing Hooky, etc.)     * I’m quite proud of my puns.

“Double Trouble”; prompts about our ladies dealing with two times the drama. (e.g., Clones, Split persons, SQ AU Version Meetup, etc.)

Emotions; prompts that focus on a different emotion. (e.g., Love, Hate, Fear, Lust, Acceptance, etc.)

Events; focusing on parties, balls, birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, traveling. (e.g., Graduations, Mom’s Day, Masquerade Ball, etc.)

Fairytales; prompts having to do with fairytales. (e.g., fairytale swap, FTL AU, fairytale tropes, new fairytale characters, Disney songs, etc.)

Fairytale Swap; Emma and Regina as the focal relationship of an established fairytale besides their own. (e.g., Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, the Swan Princess, etc.)

Family; prompts focusing on Emma and Regina and their family. (e.g., Adoption, Giving birth, Family trips, etc.)

Game Changers; prompts where something happens and alternates Emma’s and/or Regina’s plan. (e.g., death, pregnancy, natural disasters, coming of age, winning the lottery, etc.)

Goddesses; each day focuses on a different set of traits/virtues     associated with a specific goddess. (e.g., Isis - marriage and wisdom,     Aphrodite - love and beauty, Eris - chaos, etc.)

Life in Storybrooke; prompts focusing on Regina and Emma simply living in Storybrooke, both with or without magic. (e.g., Secretly dating, Henry going to college, events like 4th of July or Miners day, etc.)

Magical Mishaps; prompts focusing on what can go wrong when our ladies try to do a little magic. (e.g., spells gone wrong, True serums, Accidental time travel, etc.)

Matchmaker; prompts focusing on one or more characters playing matchmaker with Emma and/or Regina. (e.g., Cora ships it, Ruby sets them up with other people, Snow pushes them together, Henry parent traps them, etc.)

Moviephile; Emma and Regina in different movie plots and genres, both established and new ideas. (e.g., Disney, Harry Potter, rom-com, horror, etc.)

Myths and Legends; prompts focusing on aspects or stories of mythology or famous legends. (e.g., Greek Mythology, Egyptian Mythology, Viking Mythology, etc.)

No Magic; prompts where Emma and Regina are ordinary people living ordinary lives or where they lose/give up their magic. (e.g., different professions, meet cute, giving up magic to protect someone, etc.)

Over the Rainbow: Prompts where colours have meanings. (e.g.; Red - Passion, Blue - Trust, Gold - success, etc. )

Reincarnation; prompts where a person’s essence continues to live after their body dies. (e.g., past life associations, karmic ties, soul mates, etc.)

Role reversal; prompts focusing on Emma and Regina swapping roles somehow, AU or not. (e.g., sheriff/mayor, boss/employee, saviour/evil queen, etc.).

Romance + Firsts; Prompts about important milestones between Regina and Emma. (e.g., First date, First kiss, First dance as a married couple, First fight, etc.)

Space: The Final Frontier; Emma and Regina and the vast empty space. (e.g., aliens landing on earth, discovering extraterrestrial life, Lesbians in NASA, etc.)

Superheroes; prompts focusing on superheroes and villains. (e.g.,     buying Henry comic books, super powers, etc.)

Supernatural; prompts (e.g., mystical creatures, parallel universes, reincarnation, weather control, etc.)

#TeamMOM; prompts focusing on Emma and Regina being a mom (e.g., MILF, Mommy!Regina or Mommy!Emma, Mommy Kink, etc.)

The Queen and her Knight; prompts focusing on their roles as Queen and Knight. (e.g., Emma meeting the Evil Queen, Emma as Regina’s knight, etc.)

Time-turner; prompts focusing on Emma and/or Regina as a child/teen/young adult. (e.g., Baby!SQ, Childhood friends, High School Rivals, etc.)

Trouble-Trouble:  prompts focusing on Emma and/or Regina and troublesome situations (e.g., Getting Caught, Relationship troubles, Henry in trouble, etc.)

Wicked Situations; prompts focusing on Zelena + Swan Queen. (e.g., Double dates, Zelena makes Regina jealous, Zelena helps, etc.)     * Proposed as a farewell to the wonderful Zelena Mills.  

You can vote for your favourite three themes here. If you have any questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to let us know.

#swan queen #swan queen week #mod post #Regina Mills #emma swan #Regina x Emma #swanqueen #swanqueenweek #theme voting

[waypathfinder]

Crimson Lane - Chapter 26 - Pieces

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Winter changed into spring and with it small bundles of hope that made each day pass a little easier than the last. Within a month of Ben returning to jail, the knights of Ren were rounded up, arrested and placed in a different jail across the other side of town.

And through good behaviour, Ben had finally earned the privilege of receiving phone calls from the outside world, up to three times a week for 15 minutes each.

At 3 pm, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, Rey slipped away to the grass area in front of her apartment and paced barefoot, waiting for the call to connect.

"Hello?" Rey spoke quickly. "Yes, connect me to prisoner 5831, please. That's right, Ben Solo. It's his girlfriend. Yes—I'll hold."

She was getting used to the stern woman on the other end, having called her twice this week. She was abrupt and gave the never-ending sense that everything was far too much effort. But she'd deal with the devil himself if it meant she could talk to Ben.

It was a surprisingly humid day for Spring and with every step, Rey could feel the trickle of sweat beading down her back. She waited for him, heart pounding in her chest and the roar of waves playing in the background. She stared into the horizon where a storm was brewing, a high anvil cloud looming overhead, flashing dully above a cast-iron sea. She loved days like these, they had their own life about them.

The phone clicked, and Rey beamed at the familiar voice on the other end.

"Rey," Ben dragged out her name. "What did you do?"

She smirked. "Did something happen?"

"You know exactly what happened. Armitage Hux was dragged in here both kicking and screaming this morning."

Rey couldn't hold back her smile. "Oh, you got yourself a little friend?"

"I wouldn't go that far," he scoffed, and Rey pictured him smiling into the phone, that crooked eyetooth winking at her. "How did you guys manage to find that slippery eel anyway? The cops said it was a tip-off."

Rey sat on a faded yellow deck chair, one leg crossed over the other, the cool ocean breeze making her hair whip around her face.

"Can you believe it wasn't even me? Rose found him." Rey forced back a chuckle, thinking back to Rose's manic call. "Hux's cat went viral."

"What!?" She heard a cross between a grunt and a laugh, and her heart pulled at the sound of it.

"I'm serious. She was watching Funniest Cat Home Videos on YouTube and there was a clip of this fat ginger cat falling onto a sail shade from a third-story apartment and Armitage Hux screaming at the bottom trying to catch him."

Ben's laughter rang out like he couldn't get a breath in and Rey started giggling herself.

"Was he okay?" Ben asked.

"The cat? Yes. Armitage, not so much. The cat was so terrified he clawed his face."

"Now I know what caused the scratch marks."

"You can tell him he's famous now. Poe recognised the street from the video and from there it wasn't long before we were able to tip the cops off as to his whereabouts."

In the background, Rey heard the low growl of one of the guards, giving them a 30-second warning.

"Did you get your— " he struggled to say the word.

"I got it yesterday." Rey adjusted her underwear, the second day was always her heaviest. " I told you it would be okay."

"Thank God for that."

"I have no regrets, do you?"

He chuckled. "None at all."

In the background, the correctional officer ordered them to finish.

Ben went quiet. He always did at this point. The moment where they crashed back to reality.

"It makes my day, you know, hearing your voice," he said, words soft, almost like he was hiding them behind his hand.

"Mine too." A gust of wind rushed in from the ocean and the bi-fold doors slapped open and closed. She rushed to fasten them, aware that every second of silence was a second wasted.

"Say something."

She hesitated, searching for words. "I love you."

There was a quick exhale on the other end of the line and she hung on in silence, waiting.

And at last: "I know."

"Say it back, you dick!"

He laughed again and Rey's eyes began to pool. She wished she could see him laughing, it would never be enough just to hear it.

"Love you back, sweetheart."

Over the next three months, Rey worked diligently on the Snoke story, along with Poe and Finn. With some off-the-books help from Dom, they managed to create a pretty clear picture of Snoke's operations, including his brutal recruitment strategy, where he blackmailed his employees to stay until they were no longer needed. Before Ben, the only other Knights that left the order seem to have disappeared from existence or were forcibly removed, which also coincided with some career-destroying scandal.

In the summer, a new visitor arrived at the Island. Rey had watched the seaplane land with a few skips on the ocean before it taxied to the wharf and a tall and slender woman stepped onto the dock, dressed entirely in white, with black shoes and a large-brim black hat and glasses. She exuded class and sophistication, and Rey was fascinated by the sight of her. She approached the resort, dragging a pair of rose-gold designer suitcases and Rey balked at the colour of her hair, brilliant lavender styled in a 1920s faux bob.

"Ah, she's here!" Leia exclaimed at the breakfast table. "Amilyn, over here!"

At the sight of Leia waving, Amilyn tore her hat off and waved it back.

Rey would soon learn this powerhouse of grace, was one Amilyn Holdo, the most sought after criminal lawyer in Coruscant, and Leia's oldest friend.

"This is Ben's girlfriend, Rey," Leia said and Amilyn extended her hand.

She stared at it briefly; so this is the woman who could change their future.

Rey met her handshake enthusiastically and was surprised to find Amilyn's hold was loose and warm. It shouldn't have made her panic, but it did. Ben needed someone strong enough not to take his shit, to fight the devil and his demons for him. Would this woman be up for the challenge?

"My client speaks a lot about you," Amilyn told her with a smile that came through equally to her eyes. Rey noted the refined lilt of her accent, it sounded like she'd spent her young adult life bouncing between the world's most prestigious universities, which, she later learnt, wasn't far from the truth.

Rey blushed. She always did, when it came to Ben.

"Did Leia tell you we go to trial next month?"

"Already?" Rey's heart skipped a beat. She'd spoken to Ben every day this week and not once had he mentioned a trial date, or even that he'd gotten a lawyer.

"Yes, with the Knights of Ren arrested and the State vs the Estate of Alaistair Snoke trial, it was pushed forward. I thought he might have told you though."

"I— no, he hadn't mentioned it."

Amilyn's eyes narrowed and Rey had never felt so naked. She shrunk back in her chair, aware that the lawyer was scrutinising her every move.

"I mean, it hasn't come up yet. I'm sure he was planning on—" Amilyn quirked her head to the side, appearing keenly interested in Rey's body language.

You know, don't you? Rey thought. You know everything.

"Leia, I think it would be a good idea if Rey and I had a quick chat." Amilyn held her hand out expectantly. "Come for a walk with me?"

Rey glanced at Leia, and the older woman nodded, slowly. "We'll have lunch ready for when you get back."

"Excellent," Amalyn clapped her hands together and Rey stood to go with her

"She's very stubborn," Leia called out as they left.

The women paused, glancing at each other.

"Is she talking about me or you?" Rey asked.

"Both, I imagine."

On the beach, they kicked off their shoes and made their way to the waterfront where the sand was firmer. Amilyn hiked her dress pants above her knees and Rey tied her sheer black skirt by her thigh. The ocean was quiet today, lapping at their toes, the only noise was the swish of waves upon the sand and the blow-fly buzz of jet ski engines somewhere far in the distance.

Rey dawdled, staring at the shifting line between the water and sand, very aware that Amilyn continued to study her.

"I imagine this has been hard for you," she said at last.

"Of course." Rey shrugged her shoulders, still staring ahead. She'd never met a lawyer before, nevermind one of the country's most respected criminal lawyers. Everything she'd seen on television had made her believe they were cunning and only after the big paychecks that came with cases like this. But perhaps, being Leah's friend, this one was different.

"You miss him." Amilyn's lips pressed in a warm smile. "But I imagine that's not why it's hard."

"I'm not sure what you mean." Rey pushed down the nauseous feeling in her stomach. The one that swelled whenever she thought about the reason why Ben was in prison.

"It's not fair of Ben to expect you to wait here." Amilyn put her sunglasses on, they were purple-rimmed, just like her hair, dotted with tiny diamonds.

"I'm not planning on waiting here. When Leia and Han go to the mainland for the trial, I'll be going with them."

"He won't like it."

Rey kicked sand into an oncoming wave with a little more force than intended.

"Then he shouldn't have told the world he was Kylo Ren. Let's keep walking, shall we?"

Amilyn gave her a sly smile. "Ben's underestimated you. But that's typical for a man. They can never shake off that whole damsel in distress idea. Little do they realise, their damsel probably has her own ideas of how things are going to play out. Wouldn't you say?"

Rey stared ahead. "Is there much hope for him to get out of this?"

Amilyn's face pulled into that sympathetic expression, brows knitted together and a soft smile. "It will depend on many things. The judge, witnesses, how the Snoke case is progressing. It wasn't long ago that the bastard was winning awards for being a good citizen."

Rey mulled all of this over. They still had time. Another month and every day new information came out about Snoke and the First Order. But what if it still wasn't enough?

She hesitated. "If things go badly, I'm not going to just sit by."

"Rey," Amilyn stretched out her name, but once again there was gentleness and empathy to her voice.

"No. I won't have this on my conscience!" Rey snapped, Surprisingly, Amilyn didn't look put out at all by her outburst. If anything, she looked pleased.

"I won't do it unless I need to. I know it would destroy him after everything he's done to keep me safe but if they're going to put him away for years and years. I can't—"

"We'll avoid that if we can. Meanwhile, there is something you could do to help."

Rey paused. "Anything!"

"What do you know about Phasma Christie?"

The next month dragged. Tourist season was coming into its autumn lull and Rey was reaching the limit of digging she could do into Snoke and the First Order from Bespin. She still spoke to Ben every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, but as the trial came closer their conversations were getting difficult. Ben was quiet and moody, even snapping at her on occasion, and each time she'd bite her tongue knowing the pressure he was facing. He never once mentioned the trial, and Rey suspected that he hoped she didn't know about it. To this, she played along, knowing anything else would have stressed him out.

Two days before the trial, Lando pulled up in his luxury yacht, the Lady Luck, and they packed their bags for the mainland.

The journey was an eight-hour boat ride across choppy, pewter seas. Once they arrived, Rey stepped onto the mainland, feeling like she was still walking on waves and clinging to the railing.

"What time is it?"

"Almost twelve," Leia replied.

Three more hours until she could call him.

Leia and Han taxied to the office of the Hosnian Herald. It should have been thrilling walking through those doors and showing her press pass, but all she could think about was Ben and the trial.

Poe gave her a quick hug and told her she looked like shit before he took her on a tour of the building. Rey nodded and smiled, and said pleased to meet you on cue, but inwardly was counting everything second until she could excuse herself and call Ben.

Finally, in the middle of a tour of the graphic's department, Rey gasped when she checked her phone and Poe rolled his eyes.

"Go call him."

"Thank you!" she said, excitedly. "I won't be long."

"Use the roof. It should be quiet up there."

Rey took the old elevator to the top of the fourth floor, from there she travelled up a dimly lit staircase leading to a large fire door. She pushed it with a sharp shove. It screeched, metal against metal, putting her nerves right on edge. The exposed roof was a tired and weathered area; cigarette butts lined the floor, a couple of pot plants were parched dry — most of them doubling as an ashtray.

But it would do.

Rey looked out over the city. The Hosnian Herald building was five stories high, so while she was still dwarfed by skyscrapers, the building was elevated enough that she could still see much of the city. Down below the streets were busy, and in the distance, she recognised the roof and courtyard of the Taco Dana Restaurant.

Shit, she'd forgotten about that place. She hadn't even said goodbye to Jess or handed Kennedy a letter of resignation. Images flashed in her mind, Ben and Snoke at the table, Rey's horror at seeing them there and suggesting Ben order a crab taco. He'd given her such an irritated smile at the time. How she'd hated him so much at that moment. Looking back they seemed like two other people, strangers from a lifetime ago.

Towards the east, there was a collection of low-rise buildings and terrace houses. Mustafar. She squinted, trying to make out the brothel, but the grey rooves all blended into one from here.

That shady part of the city would always fill her with contradiction. It was like she'd walked through hell and found herself a soul mate — speaking of which, she dialled the number of the jail, waiting as the phone rang.

The receiver picked up and she immediately recognised the low no-nonsense tone of the female officer on the other end.

"This is Rey, calling for Ben Solo, 5831."

"Hold." The phone line went dead and Rey waited. This was always the moment she dreaded most; when her body began to betray her: heartbeat racing and pulse throbbing. It was taking a long time. Rey watched the seconds pass on her watch with a growing sense of unease.

She paced, running her hand along the cement barrier, avoiding pigeon poo dotted along the top. Someone had scribbled Fuck You, Capitalism! and Rey traced the letters as she waited, wishing to hell that he'd pick up already.

There was a click.

"Hello." The voice was gravelly and low.

"Ben, is that you?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah."

In the distance, Rey spotted a grey shape swooping down from the sky, her eyes darted to it, watching the falcon circle on the hunt for a fresh kill that wouldn't even know it was coming.

"Luke said you were sick."

There was a grunt. "Yeah."

"Is that why you couldn't speak last week?"

Rey watched the bird again, swooping at something she couldn't see, waiting for Ben to answer.

"Yes."

She rubbed her elbow. "You sound … are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Liar. In the months that had passed, she'd come to find Ben's moods pretty erratic, which wasn't surprising considering. Some days he would be cold and aloof, others ecstatic and romantic and then like this, depressed and quiet.

She tried to change the subject.

"You won't guess where I am?"

"No idea." Her chest tightened. She tried to ignore it. "I'm on the roof of the Hosnian Herald! Can you believe it?"

She waited, the horn from a commuter bus bleated from below as it pulled into traffic, cutting off a number of cars. The metal of the fire door screeched against the trim again as another employee came out for a break, bundled up in a grey trench coat and lighting a cigarette. Smoke swirled around her and she wrinkled her nose, trying to move away.

He released a long, strained breath. "What are you doing there?"

Cold. How could he be so cold?

"I'm here for the trial."

"Fuck, Rey!" he spat. "I told you not to come."

Her cheeks burned and she covered her hand over her mouth to keep their conversation private. "I want to support you. We all do. Your mum and dad are here too."

"Why didn't you stay where you were?"

"I—" Tears pricked at her eyes and the cityscape blurred below. "I wanted to see you. I thought I could come for visiting hour tomorrow."

Silence.

"If you wanted me to that is."

"One minute left," the guard's voice echoed in the background.

She pushed away her growing panic. "Do you want me to come?"

"I wanted you to stay on Bespin. I didn't want to you to—fuck!" He shouted the last word, and she heard the guard growl his name in warning.

"I'm sorry," Rey murmured, blindsided by his reaction. She tried not to let out the weak little sob that was harbouring in her chest, but it came anyway.

"Are you crying?"

"No," she said, sniffing.

"Look, Rey, I don't know what you're hoping for but the trial isn't going to go well."

"How do you know—"

"And I don't want you to hear about all the shit I've done. Are you prepared for that? To hear about every bone I've broken, every person's face I've smashed? Do you want to hear in detail about how I blew Lor San Tekka's fucking brains out," he was talking quickly and quietly now. "Do you think you can really hear all that and still want to be with me?"

"Time!" the guard's voice came in the background.

"I gotta go," he said, despondent. "Amilyn didn't ask you to testify, did she?"

"No, of course not." The door slammed again and the smoker was gone, although the smoke still lingered in a hazy cloud, burning her throat.

"Good," Ben said. "And promise me you won't come."

"Time!" the guard repeated, and this time she heard the sound of something hard smacking on metal.

"Rey?"

"Time!"

"Would you just fucking wait!?" He had that tone in his voice, the one that came before everything was eclipsed by his anger. "Promise me, damn it!"

The door screeched again, this time it was Finn popping his head out to look for her.

Rey quickly wiped her eyes.

"Rey?" Ben asked, and her heart broke at the panic in his voice.

"I—" The line went dead and Rey stared at the blank phone in her hand, trembling.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, quickly, blinking away the tears. "Is it time for our meeting?"

Finn nodded and she breathed.

Push it down, push it all away.

It was something she knew how to do: compartmentalise, conceal and continue.

"Sure you're okay, peanut?"

She turned back to Finn, eyes dry, and a smile beaming. "I'm great. Let's go."

"This case is going to go terribly unless we have someone who was there the night Snoke died." Poe raked his fingers through his thick, curly hair, twisting a cold cup of coffee in his hands.

"I was there."

"Someone other than you."

Rey sunk in her chair. Here she was at the Hosnian Herald, sitting opposite the editor chair, while dozens of reporters tapped away on their keyboards, and conducted phone interviews. It should have been the best day of her life but the pain of her interaction with Ben was still there.

The glass door to Poe's office was in constant motion as a steady stream of people bustled in and out.

"Poe, what do you think of one of these as the front-page photo?" A young photographer with bangs and a polka-dot dress leaned over his desk as she flicked through a dozen images on her camera and Poe narrowed his eyes at them all, mumbling to himself.

"Can you try and find a photo of him not looking like a dementor?"

Rey raised an eyebrow.

"Your boy's trial is big news and we're going to lead with it tomorrow."

"You can't do that!"

"I know he's your boyfriend and all, but we gotta run with it. Every other news outlet will be doing the same thing. It's fair and unbiased reporting, Rey. I shouldn't need to remind you about that."

He leant forward, glasses slipping down his nose as he flicked through his emails.

"Fair and unbiased," she scoffed. "You really think the Ilum Times is going to do that?"

"We will. And who knows, perhaps an exclusive with his girlfriend might help. You could tell them how he cries when he makes love to you—"

"Forget it!" she snapped, and Poe started laughing.

Finn bustled in then, carrying lots of folders and a laptop. As he went to sit, he took one look at Rey and dumped them on Poe's desk crossly. "You didn't."

Poe sipped his coffee with a shrug, only to realise it was stone-cold and spat it out in the trash can.

"Ex-hooker teams up with Snoke's personal hit guy and falls in love. It's gold."

"Ignore him."

"I usually do," Rey said, trying to smirk but the corners of her lips fell.

"Why am I still paying you both?"

"Because no one else can stand you?" Rey snapped back and Poe laughed.

They'd been working together for six months now, but today was the first time they'd done it in the same space. Usually, their morning meetings were held over Zoom. In those days, the witty banter and excitement of what they were trying to achieve gave Rey enough fuel to face the rest of the day alone knowing that every second of it she spent fighting for Ben.

Finn pulled his chair closer and leaned over Poe's desk, looking through the many papers he'd dumped over the top of it.

"So final tally, what do we have?" Poe asked.

"Ordering the terror bombing on Resistance HQ, blackmail and bribery, specifically related to the government security contract, attempted murder by car bombing, assault, rape, grooming minors to work with him … to be honest, we could be here all day," Finn said.

"And what do we have specifically on Ben?"

"Our biggest issue is the San Tekka murder, and Snoke, obviously."

Rey opened her mouth to speak at that one, but Poe held his finger up. "Save it."

Poe continued: "there were a few misdemeanours that were still on the USB. That's since been turned over to the police. Word from Holdo's is Enric Pryde's prosecuting."

"What does that mean?" Finn asked.

"It means we're up shit creek without a paddle. Pryde plays dirty and he hates to lose. Plus, he's an Imperial supporter. He's not about to go easy because he's Leia Organa's son."

Rey sighed. "We need something else, something that could sway all of this." Poe tapped his index finger on the table.

"You guys anything?" Finn sat with his arms folded, legs stretched out, gazing out to the left as though he was trying to catch a thought and then to Rey, who was chewing on her lip.

"Amilyn and I talked about trying to get Phasma on the stand. She saw the whole thing," Rey said.

"From past conversations, I seem to recall she was no friend of yours," Poe answered, taping his pen in frantic beats on his table.

"She isn't." Rey thought back to her interactions with the imposing woman. "But she's all we have."

"Are you okay?" Amilyn asked, clearly noticing the way Rey gripped her hands on the car seat.

Rey nodded.

"I didn't realise she lived in Mustafar."

"We're not far now. Close your eyes if it's easier."

It wasn't easier because Rey knew these streets like the back of her hand. She knew the sounds and the smells. The waft of the kebab shop, the soundtrack of sirens and horns. She would always know these streets, from their graffitied boarded up shop windows and trendy open-air cafes, to the women in platform shoes and glitter skirts strolling along the pavement with their cappuccinos and lattes.

And she would know it by the turn off to the small lane ahead on their left.

"Can we drive past? it" Rey asked.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, please. I want to see it."

Amilyn put her blinker on and they turned onto Crimson Lane. They approached the brothel, charcoal-coloured in the evening sun. The curtains were drawn, and the door was still blood red. The light was off. Closed for business. For good, she hoped.

The biggest difference was a line of tape around the perimeter, bright yellow and blue, warning people to stay away: unsafe structure.

"Someone set fire to it about a month and a half ago. It's pretty much just a shell now."

Rey nodded slowly, expecting to feel something, but it was like every emotion had drained away. Her gaze travelled to the top floor: their room.

There was evidence of the fire now, the glass smashed and frame black and broken.

She wondered how it had come to burn.

"Do they know who did it?" Amilyn shook her head. "Probably just an opportunistic arsonist."

The longer Rey stared at Number 12, the more it seemed to suck her in, like she was watching the heart of a fire, twisting and burning with red flame and ash. She couldn't look away.

"Rey—" Amilyn said from some distant part of her mind.

How could one find peace looking at the place that had infiltrated her mind at night with the most horrific nightmares, playing over and over and over again in her mind?

And yet, such beauty she had found there, healing, forgiveness.

Amilyn placed a hand on her knee and Rey turned to face her, surprised to feel her face was wet with tears.

"Are you ready to go?"

Rey sniffed and nodded. "Yes, I'm done."

They continued their drive, away from the red-light district to a narrow street dotted with parking metres and Jacaranda trees.

"So, you think she lives there?" Amilyn asked, peering out at the two-story terrace house.

"I hope so."

It was nothing special, rusty-coloured bricks and terracotta tiles. It was a modern re-creation of the original terrace designs, with their ornate ironwork and cement walls. Along the street, there were bars on the windows of the lower floors, and some on the doors. But Phasma had none of those, as if to say to the world she could take on anyone.

They waited. The street was quiet, apart from the gentle twit of swallows flitting in and out of the eaves.

Rey tapped her fingers on the window frame nervously. "I spoke to Ben today."

Amilyn sipped her coffee, leaving a line of bright red lipstick on the rim of the paper cup. "I imagine that was pleasant."

Rey turned in time to catch Amilyn's smirk, disappearing as she sipped her drink. "He's been a snarky prat for the past month. Trust me, when I say you get him on his best behaviour."

Rey thought back to the conversation, to the tone of his voice: distant, defensive … caged.

"He's scared." She picked some twigs and grime out of the window slit. "I don't—"

The door of the townhouse opened and they froze as a tall, slender woman with short blonde hair and a silver, velvetine tracksuit came out the door and over to the mailbox.

"Go, go, go!" Amilyn hissed.

Rey jumped out of the car and made a beeline to meet her.

"Phasma!" The woman stopped, blinking once, twice, before turning on her heels to go back to the house.

Rey darted behind her, shadowing her so when they got to the front door, Rey slipped in too.

Phasma didn't pay her any attention, busying herself around the interior: boiling the chrome silver kettle, unpacking a half-empty dishwasher and opening the blinds, as a ginger-coloured cat rubbed up against her calf.

Hux's celebrity cat, Rey thought with a smile.

The terrace house was surprisingly domestic, there were placemats on the table, and a collection of abstract art in deep purple and orange dotted around the room. As she entered the kitchen, she smelt an audacious eau de toilette mixed with the subtle hint of marijuana.

Rey waited, backed up against the wall as the kettle boiled as Phasma poured the hot water into a rose-coloured glass teacup, sitting at the table and watching Rey with oculus sky-blue eyes.

Even now, in this small kitchen, the woman ruled her space like a goddess. Rey was determined not to let this game of silence intimidate her and with a shrug of her shoulders, she sat down and waited.

Phasma sipped the tea, gaze fixed out the window. Rey watched her unblinking, her fingers twitching to move, to play with the strip of fabric of her shirt, to pick at her nails or tap on the table.

But no, she kept them folded, legs crossed, shoulders straight. She would not be intimidated, not anymore.

Phasma placed the teacup on the table, dabbing at her lipstick with a small tissue she had stowed away in her pocket, and when she glimpsed at Rey again it was with an exasperated sigh.

"Fine. I'll bite. How's Kylo?"

Rey stiffened, she'd almost forgotten that name and everything it represented.

"Oh, like that, is it?" Phasma chuckled, taking another sip. "You don't need to tell me, I saw him last week. He looked like shit, but then you would know."

Rey looked down into her lap. "I haven't seen him."

Phasma smirked. "Hmm. Well, that's interesting."

"The reason I haven't seen him—" Rey snapped back, her voice a little too high and peevish— "is because I came to see you instead."

"How sweet!"

Phasma flashed her a quick smile, fixing those cold blue eyes on her once more, like a predator waiting to strike.

"You know, I slept with him once."

Rey blinked. Trying not to move, or breathe, or do anything that would show weakness. But Phasma seemed to find something, because she smiled contentedly, her long ring-clad fingers caressing the skin behind her neck.

"He's a brutal lover, like an animal."

Rey's jaw clamped shut, every breath she took whistled through her nose. Is that why Phasma saw him last week, why she warned him to stay away from the brothel, why she'd always seemed to hate Rey and lastly, why she'd let Rey go — to save him?

"You—" Rey reconsidered her words, she needed to be careful. All this time, when Phasma was playing Snoke's pet, had she really just wanted Ben to save her?

Phasma smirked again. "Actually, I don't think I've ever been fucked so hard."

"He's always gentle with me." She met her gaze. It wasn't entirely true, she'd seen that side of Ben too, the part of him that brimmed with fire and passion, an unquenchable urge to hold on, but fuck that there was no way she would share that.

"That's funny. Some nights, I could have sworn he wasn't gentle at all. But you still seemed to like it. I mean, the night he trashed the room—"

The air was growing warm or at least it seemed to, heat licked at Rey's neck and she felt her chest getting blotchy as her temper boiled over.

"Yes, he fucks me hard and I like it. And, other times he's gentle, and I like that too. And every time we talk he tells me how much he loves me, and I tell him the same."

Phasma smiled again, but this time it was tighter, smaller.

"I am sorry for whatever horrible things Snoke did to you, but from what I can see you got your revenge for both of us — 37 times."

Phasma stiffened.

"So, did Hux help you kill him in the end?"

She froze; teacup in hand, the rippling surface the only thing giving away how much she was trembling.

"You have no proof."

"I'm not looking for proof."

Phasma's body relaxed. "Well, there wasn't much to do after you finished with him — before you let Kylo take the fall for you that is."

"We can throw barbs at each other all day. But the fact is you were the only one there that night who can prove this was self-defence."

"And what about you?" Rey looked down at her hands, scratching at each other like something was clawing under her skin.

"He—" Rey blinked quickly. "He doesn't want me at the trial."

Phasma laughed, shrill like a banshee, it made Rey's skin crawl.

"You want me to lie on the stand? To say that Kylo knifed Snoke in the neck when you're just letting him take the fall for something you did. I'm not protecting you."

"I'm not asking you to, I'm asking you to help him," Rey shouted back. "And I'm sure in your whole fucked up existence working with Snoke he has helped you."

Phasma stared at her, face unreadable.

"Please, Phasma. He needs your help. You know what kind of charges he's up against … along with everything else."

Time slowed as Rey waited for an answer, outside she could make out Amilyn's mauve hair in the car, she must have been listening to music as her head bobbed side to side in time with the tap of her fingers.

"Is that his lawyer?" Rey jumped, she hadn't realised Phasma had been watching her also.

"Amilyn Holdo. She's supposed to be very good."

Phasma stared at the woman with a blank expression.

"According to her, we should have a good case for justified homicide, in both cases, considering all the evidence against Snoke and what he has done to Ben-I mean, Kylo, considering Snoke blackmailed him as a minor and what he did to him after he tried to leave the First Order."

Phasma tucked a curl behind her ear, eyes closing.

"I remember that night. Snoke was barbaric. Kylo's lucky he got away with just the scars that he did. Others have suffered much more for much less."

Rey nodded. "Funny; that was another time he suffered for you. He never would have asked to leave Snoke had he not met you."

"I—" Rey's face turned a deep shade of beetroot, the sting of Phasma's words striking her just where she meant them, in the heart, filling her with guilt and shame.

"He was so fucking shaken up by the pathetic girl who slept on a dog bed. The thought of you being forced into sex work ..." Phasma rolled her eyes. "And here you are." She gestured to Rey in a grand motion. "Kylo's little whore, getting away with murder."

Rey stiffened, her jaw locked so tight she felt like she'd crack her teeth. "You might want to reconsider that statement."

They glared at each other. In the distance, the bell of an ice cream truck rang out along with the tinny chimes of Greensleeves. Children would be rushing out to buy soft-serve cones. It was such a contrast to the cold standoff taking place in this dimly-lit kitchen.

Rey had hoped not to find an enemy here. In some warped, idealistic way, she might have found an ally, someone who understood the pain of being held captive within Snoke's cruel grip, to have been enslaved in the most undignified way.

She had not expected to find a jealous lover, rotting in her own bitterness.

Rey stood, scraping her chair along the kitchen tiles. "This is useless."

Phasma was on her feet almost instantly, but Rey didn't wait. Storming to the front door, she'd just opened it when Phasma called out to her.

"I'll do it. Not for you, but for him."

Rey didn't look back.

"Tell your lawyer, I'll play her game, but if Kylo goes down for this—"

"He won't."

"But if he does," Phasma gave her something between a smile and a sneer. "I'm throwing you under the bus, Desert Flower."

Rey gave her a lopsided smirk. "I'll see you in court, madam."

#reylo #reylo fan fiction #crimson lane #angst with a happy ending #cryber

[omgsatisshroffme]

Zeitgeistlyrik II

1. Das Ritual (Satis Shroff)

Eine betagte Dame sitzt auf dem Boden

und spielt ein Tamborin. Die anderen sitzen im Kreis. Plötzlich legt sie das Tamborin beiseite, Steht auf und verläßt den Raum. Sie lebt in einem Altersheim. Sie öffnet ihre Zimmertür, Schaut das Van Gogh Bild an Und fragt sich: ‘Hängt das Bild gerade oder schief? Habe ich das Licht ausgemacht? Sie bedient den Lichtschalter viermal. Sie geht ins Badezimmer: Tropft der Hahn? Dreht den Hahn auf und zu. Habe ich die Tür geschlossen? Sie macht die Tür auf und zu. O, habe ich die Kochplatten ausgemacht? Oder glühen sie? Ich habe solche Angst. Wo ist das Bügeleisen? Habe ich vergessen, den Stecker heraus zu ziehen? O Jemine! So eine Schande. Ich muß das gesamte Ritual nochmal wiederholen, Sonst hat meine Seele keine Ruhe. * * *

       THE RITUAL (Satis Shroff)

 An elderly lady ,

Sits on the floor,

And plays a tamborine.

Others sit in chairs in a circle.

Suddenly she puts her tambourine aside,

Gets up and goes to her room.

She lives in a home for elderly people.

She opens the door and looks

At the van Gogh picture,

And asks herself:

Is this picture .straight?

Did I put out the light?

She tries the switch four times.

Goes to the bathroom:

Is the tap trickling?

Turns it on and off.

Did I close the door?

She opens and shuts it.

Oh, did I put off the ceran plates?

Or are they red hot?

 I’m so scared.

Where’s the iron?

Did I forget to pull out the plug?

Phew! It’s such a shame;

I have to carry out the ritual again.

 * * *

2. Erinnerungen (Satis Shroff) Ich ging in ein Altersheim Verkleidet als ein Hase, Mit einer roten Nase. Ich spielte mit meiner Mundharmonika Alte Deutsche Lieder für die Mitbewohner. Manche lächelten,starrten Und andere applaudierten, Wie der Jubel kleiner Kinder. Die alten Melodien riefen Erinnerungen, Von glücklichen Tagen hervor. Besonders bei Gästen mit Demenz. ‘Dank’schön!’ sagte eine betagte Dame, Mit Tränen in den Augen. Ihre Augen sagten: ‘Sie haben mir meine Erinnerungen zurückgebracht.’ O, es war so eine Bereicherung, Den anderen helfen sich zu erinnern, Den Altersheim-Blues zu vergessen, Auch wenn es nur für einen Abend war. * * *

MEMORIES (Satis Shroff)

I went to a home for elderly people

Dressed as a hare with a big red nose,

Wore a bathing gown like the Weihnachtsmann.

I played old German folk tunes,

For the delight of those present,

With my mouth-harmonica.

Some smiled, others stared

And still others applauded,

Like small children with glee.

 The olde melodies brought memories

Of happier days to those with dementia.

‘Dankeschön!’ said an elderly lady,

Tears running down her cheeks.

Her eyes said:

‘Thank you for the precious memories.’

 Oh, it was such a rich experience,

To help others to remember,

And forget the Care-Home-Blues,

Even for an evening.

I packed my props and went home,

With a joyous heart.

I’ll never forget the tears of the lady.

* * *

 3. Ein kleines Kind (Satis Shroff) Es war Fasnetzeit, Der Winter wurde vertrieben. Die Leute trugen bunte Kleider Um den Karneval zu feiern. Isolde war gekleidet als ein Harlekin, Mit farbenfrohem Kostüm und einer Blume Auf ihrem Kopf. Sie sah ein kleines Kind vorbei laufen, Hob das Kind hoch und umarmte es. Sie schloß ihre Augen und summte ein Lied. Ihre innerster Wunsch war, eine Mutter zu werden. Jetzt hatte sie ein Kind im Arm. Wie süß es doch war, die Wärme des Kindes zu verspüren. Das Kind schien es zu gefallen, Es wurde ruhig und mochte ihre Wärme. Isolde träumte oft sie wäre Schwanger. Jeden Morgen erzählte sie die anderen Patienten, Und dem Psychiatriepersonal: ‘Ich habe gestern Abend ein Kind zur Welt gebracht.’ * * *

A SMALL CHILD (Satis Shroff)

It was Fasnettime:

The banishment of winter,

When the people are motley dressed,

To celebrate carnival.

 Sandra was painted like a harlequin,

Wore a colourful costume

And flowers on her head.

She’d seen a child walking around,

Held it up the child and embraced it.

She closed her eyes and hummed a tune.

She’d always wanted to be a mother.

Now she had a small child in her arms.

What a delight to feel the warmth of the child.

The child seemed to love it.

It became quiet and liked her warmth.

 Sandra dreamt she was pregnant every night.

Every morning she’d tell other patients,

And the psychiatric staff:

‘I gave birth to a child,’

With a happy smile.

 * * *

4. KINDERSEELE (Satis Shroff)

Sie nannten mich Hasenscharte in der Schule. Als ich die Treppe herunter ging, Haben sie mich getreten. Ich kam öfters mit Schürfwunden nach Hause. Kinder in meinem Alter Nannten mich:’Lakhe, Das Monster mit dem roten Gesicht.’ Manche nannten mich sogar ’Narbengesicht.’ Wir waren Arm und Mutti betete für mich, Aber das half mir nicht. Ich wurde sehr traurig. Ich konnte nicht mehr in mein Spiegelbild schauen. Hasenscharte: Ich hatte Angst vor mir selbst. Warum mußte ich so geboren sein? Hatte ich in meinem früheren Leben gesündigt? Warum wurde ich so bestraft? Was habe ich getan um mit so einem Karma Bestraft zu werden? Ich betete die buddhistischen und hinduistischen Götter an. Ich machte Opfergaben, Aber sie blieben stumm. Ich war ein Tharu und lebte in Chitwan. Manchmal kamen wilde Elefanten auf die Felder, Um das zu fressen, Was sie finden konnten. Sogar Leoparden und Tiger Kamen Nachts schleichend an, Und nahmen Ziegen Oder ein Kleinkind mit. Während der Nacht Hatte ich Angst vor den Dschungeltieren, Tagsüber hatten die Schulkinder Angst vor mir. Ich haßte es, in die Schule zu gehen, Haßte jede Begegnung mit meiner Mitmenschen: Alle starrten mich nur an. Manchmal schaute ich ein Bollywoodfilm an. Ich identifizierte mich mit Shah Rukh Khan. Was für ein großartiger Held. Ich wünschte mir ich könnte sein wie er; gegen die Bösewichte kämpfen Und die Herzen von schönen Frauen zu erobern. Ein Blick in den Dorfteich oder eine Reflektion im Fenster Und ich wurde in die Realität zurückgeholt. Ein Lehrer sagte zu meiner Mutter, Sie sollte mit mir nach Sankhu gehen, dort helfen ausländische Chirurgen armen Nepalesen Für ein paar Rupien. Meine Mutter gab mir Hoffnung. Dennoch hatte ich Angst vor der Operation. Ich erwähnte es zu niemandem in der Schule. Eines Tages sind meine Mutti und ich nach Sankhu gefahren, Es befand sich neben der Hauptstadt. Die Busreise war lange und sehr mühsam, Aber ich dachte die ganze Zeit an mein Gesicht. Als wir dort ankamen, sah ich weiß gekleidete Menschen, Die aussahen wie britische Sahibs. Mir wurde erzählt, dass sie aus dem Kontinent kamen, Wo auch immer das sein mag. Eine nette weiße Frau gab mir eine Puppe Mit blonden Haaren. In Nepali wir nennen das ‘Sunpat.’ Mein Herz schlug laut und schnell. Ich fing an schneller zu atmen. ‘Du wirst gleich einschlafen,’ Sagte eine Nepali Krankenschwester. O, Wunder! Als ich aufwachte, Spürte ich eine Bandage auf meinem Oberkiefer. Mein Mund fühlte sich wie zusammengenäht an. Als die Bandage entfernt wurde, gaben sie mir einen Spiegel. Ich hatte Nähte von den Nasenlöchern Bis zu meiner Oberlippe. Die sogenannte ‘Fissure’ Lücke war endlich zu. Eine Flut von Tränen liefen über meine Wangen: Ich schämte mich und weinte vor Freude. O, Danke Interplast Deutschland, Du hast mir ein neues Leben geschenkt. Ich habe jetzt einen Schnurbart Und eine hübsche Frau.

* * *

THE SOUL OF A CHILD (Satis Shroff)

They called me the ‘harelip monster’ at school,

And the schoolkids kicked me down the stairs.

I’d often come home bruised;

The children of my age called me:

‘Lakhe, the red-faced monster,’

Some even called me ‘Scareface.’

We were poor and my mother prayed for me.

But that didn’t help me.

I became very sad and depressed.

I couldn’t look at a mirror,

Harelip: I became scared of myself.

Why did I have to be born with a harelip?

Did I sin in my previous life?

Why was I punished ?

What had I done to get such a karma?

I prayed to the Hindu and Buddhist Gods,

But they remained silent.

I was a Tharu boy and lived near Chitwan.

Sometimes the wild elephants would come to the fields,

To eat what they could find.

Even tigers and leopards came stealthily at night,

Took away goats or a child.

During the night we were scared of wild animals,

At daytime children were scared of me.

I hated school,

Hated contacts with humans:

Anyone who stared at me.

 Sometimes I’d watch a Bollywood film,

Identify myself with Shah Rukh Khan:

What a great emotional hero.

I wished I could be like him,

Fight against evil gangsters and goondas,

And win the hearts of lovely damsels.

 A look at the pond or a window pane,

And I’d be dragged to reality.

One day a teacher told my mother to go to Sankhu,

Where foreign surgeons helped poor Nepalese,

And performed plastic surgery for a song.

My mother gave me hope.

I was scared of the operation,

So I didn’t tell anyone at school.

 One day my mom and I went to Sankhu,

Near the capital.

The bus journey was long and tiresome,

But I was thinking of my face all the while.

At the hospital there was a team of people in white coats,

They looked like British sahibs.

But I was told that they were from the Continent,

Wherever that was.

I was given a doll with blonde hair

By a kind white lady.

In Nepali we call it ‘sunpat.’

My heart was beating loudly.

I started breathing fast.

‘You’ll fall asleep’ said a Nepali nurse.

I did.

Oh, wonder, when I woke up I had a bandage

On my upper jaw.

When the bandage was taken off,

I was given a mirror.

I had stitches from my nostrils

To my upper lip.

The gap was closed.

I had a new face.

A flood of tears rolled down my cheeks.

Thank you Interplast Germany:

You have given me a new life.

I now have a moustache

And a pretty wife.

 * * * 5. APRIL 1945 (Satis Shroff)

Sie trug einen roten Wintermantel Und hielt einen Gehstock in der Hand. Gabriela Klein überquerte den Zebrastreifen, Neben der neue schwarzen Unibibliothek. Eine Kompanie von Soldaten im Kampfanzug Kamen von der anderen Straßenseite. Ihre Schritte verlangsamten und ihr Körper zitterte. In ihrem Geist, ist sie im April 1945: Die Franzosen haben Freiburg in den Besitz genommen. Die Werwolf Hitlerjugend wollte das Schwabentor sprengen. Freiburgs tapfere Männer haben’s verhindert. Wie werden die Franzosen uns behandeln? Sie hatte damals keine Ahnung, Daß der Krieg schon vorbei war. Kein Radio, Keine Zeitungen. Ausgangssperre von 19 Uhr bis 7 Uhr. Obwohl die Deutschen und die Franzosen Einst Erzfeinde waren, Benahmen sich die französische Soldaten diszipliniert. Tagsüber suchten die Leute nach Nahrung. Die rückkehrenden und verletzten Soldaten Verursachten die Nahrungsknappheit. Sie erinnerte sich, daß sie Nachts

 Felder durchsuchte um Kartoffeln zu stehlen. Damals verwalteten die Franzosen die Stadt. Als die Soldaten vorbei marschieren, schlägt Gabriela’s Herz wieder normal. Sie hört auf zu hyperventilieren Und schafft es auf die andere Straßenseite. ‘Huch!’ nuschelt Gabriela: ‘Ich bin mal wieder am Tagträumen.’ * * *

EINSAMKEIT (Satis Shroff)

Die Dame mit den silbernen Haaren sitzt vor ihrem Wohnungseingang Und denkt über ihr Leben nach. Ihre Tochter Androula ist wohlauf in Deutschland, Ihr Sohn Janis lebt mit seiner Frau in Athen. Und sie? Sie lebt in Einsamkeit und Gebet, Eine Witwe in Schwarz Tag ein und aus. Ihre Beine sind schwach und ihr Gang instabil. Ihr wird es häufig schwindelig. Aber das schlimmste Ist ihre fehlende Erinnerung: Ich kann an meine ferne Vergangenheit erinnern, Aber ich weiß nicht mehr, Ob ich meine Kapseln eingenommen habe, Oder nicht. Wie lange kann ich noch auf mich aufpassen?

* * *

LIFE IS A COSMIC DANCE (Satis Shroff)

My soul is a passionate dancer. I hear music where ever I am, Whatever I do. I hear the lively rhythm Beckoning me to dance.

Sometimes it violins and Vienna waltz. At other times a fiery salsa. A Punjabi bhangra or a slow fox. Life is a cosmic dance. With its kampfmuster And its own choreography.

We have people around us. We look at each other, Oblivious of the others. Mesmerised, Drawn together by an invisible force.

The Flamenco guitarist wails, ‘Life is an apple: Pluck it, Relish it, And throw it away.’