#eve cower art

[eve-cower]

*Hypnotize you

Ooohhh you gonna simp for me so baaddd

#eve cower art

[alice-angel12x]

Born of Unknown Stardust

Ch. 3

summary: The angles formed the world and all mortal life from dust. One day from the unknown the angels came across bizarre dust, that seemed to have a will of its own. It refused to be molded and shaped to the angel's will. So they cast it aside, till a certain angel got his creative hands on it.

(Long post)

(bittersweet story) (platonic) Lucifer x (???) Reader x Sera

<-Part 2/ Part 4-> (additional art here)

____________________________

"Lucifer... What Have you Done!" The elders shot in horror as the roots of Evil seeped into the earth.

The Apple of Knowledge of good and evil is eaten into rolls on the ground as the knowledge that Eve was not ready for rushes into her head. It was painful and overwhelming.

Lucifer stands before the court of the heavenly elders. Lilith stood not far behind Lucifer as she watched in worried anticipation.

"Not only have you gotten too involved with a human, but You let evil taint our creation. We told you your Ideas were too dangerous, and you have only proven our point," One of the elders glared.

Lucifer stood resolute as he tried to put on a bold face for Lilith Even if the angelic metal chains and cuffs were tight on his wrist and neck.

"We will look past this and forgive you if you apologize. And Leave the mortals alone," Another elder spoke up. "That also means leaving that mortal alone too."

They said as they pointed to Lilith who was cowering in front of some arch-angels keeping an eye on her. Lucifer looked at her with concern, all this happened so suddenly. As their eyes met, Lucifer made his decision.

"I... I do not regret what I have done," He said with a slight glare, even as the chain chafed at his skin.

The Elders gasped in Horror at Lucifer's answer, the elders quickly discussing amongst each other.

"Lucifer has not only let evil leak into the earth, but it seems to have taken him too. Fallling into the chains of lust," One elder said.

"We made it clear to him when we told him not to interfere. He only has himself to blame," Other scoffed.

As the Elders chatted, one was not paying attention to the conversation. The high seraphim Sera. Her mind was elsewhere, on the one who everyone seemed to have forgotten, Yuu. Her heart could only wonder what would happen to little Yuu now, one of the many victims of this. She started to think back when she noticed Lucifer sneaking off for days at a time.

___________________________

Sera flew up to the door and gave a light knock. The Door opened quickly, but instead of Lucifer, it was Little Yuu treating her.

"Hello Miss Sera," Yuu greeted happily.

"Hello Yuu, is your father home?" She asked as she knelt to Yuu's level

"Da? No, haven't seen him," Yuu shrugged.

"How long ago did you see him, I might be able to catch up with him," Sera asked.

"Umm... 5 days ago I think," Yuu said as they thought back.

"5 Days?! How often is this?" Sera asked in concern.

"Umm, more often know... And longer too... Where is Da going Sera?" Yuu asked her.

" I don't know sweety. Mind if I keep you company for a little bit?" Sera asked.

"Well Da said to not let people inside the house when he's not home," Yuu said as they thought, when. " But he never said anything about the garden!"

Sera chuckled at Yuu's enthusiasm, as Yuu told her to wait in the gardens. In the garden was a simple stone table, the flowers and plants surrounded the small set up. Soon the young tot came outside with Tea and snacks. It looked very childishly slapped together, but Sera appreciated the effort.

Sera just smiled and listened as Yuu childishly rambled on and on anything that came to mind. To hold a conversation with guests. As She listens, she notices one of Yuu's blueprints sticking out from their pocket.

"So what great invention are you working on now?" Sera asks as she points to the paper.

"Oh, this? This is for my dad," Yuu said as they pulled out the blueprints.

Sera looked it over. She was a bit confused to see a simple drawing of a jar. With notes scribbled all over that she really couldn't understand.

"What is it?" She asked with a confused expression on her face.

"A world in a bottle," Yuu smiled excitedly.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Sera said.

"I'm going to put a world inside the jar. Where my dad can make whatever he wants inside," Yuu explained. " I'm almost done putting everything together."

"Umm, how so?" Sera was beyond confused, how could a world fit in such a small container.

With an excited smile, Yuu opened the jar, and the two were sucked inside. Sera gasped as she closed her eyes, waiting for the worst.

"Miss Sera? You can't see anything with your eyes closed," Yuu said.

She slowly opened an eye, to see an unbelievable sight before her.

"I managed to finish the ocean, but I like the idea of an underwater house. So I'll add land later, and have a normal house," Yuu explained as they showed off the pocket world.

"Yuu this is beautiful, and this is almost done?" Sera asked in awe.

"Yeah, just want to add some land and mountains," Yuu nodded. "Do you think Da will like it? Then maybe he will spend more time with me?"

"Lucifer will love it," Sera reassured with a gentle smile. “But why did you make this for him?”

“So he can see I’m getting close to making his own earth,” Yuu said proudly.

“His own Earth?” Sera asked curiously

“So he has a place he can put all his ideas, so the elders don’t have to worry about their earth,” Yuu explained.

Sera smiled softly at Yuu’s kind heart. "You know making a world by yourself won't be easy. It could take a very long time," She says.

"I know, but Da promised he would wait for me and stay out of trouble," Yuu smiled, though it was a bit unsure.

"Your heart is so kind little one," Sera smiles as she pattes Yuu's head.

____________________________

"And that creature Yuu should go too. Who knows what that thing will do on its own. It could cause trouble, cast it to hell with its creator," another elder said, snapping Sera out of her thoughts.

"No," She said suddenly.

"What?!" The other elders gasped.

"Yuu is innocent and has nothing to do with this. Lucifer's choices and actions were all his own," She says sternly. " Yuu is a kind-hearted individual, and sending an innocent to hell is too cruel a fate."

"Are you going to Keep an eye on them?" They asked.

"I will. I'll make sure to guide them down the right path," Sera said with certainty.

-----------------------------------------------

The portal to The underworld ripped asunder as the archangels dragged and pushed Lucifer and Lilith closer to the edge.

"Lucifer!" Sera called out.

Lucifer looked at her with a slight glare as the chains held him still.

"I promise to take care of Yuu for you," Sera promised sincerely.

"Wait? What do you mean Sera?!" Lucifer asked, panic quickly filling his voice.

"Oh, know you remember your (Son/Daughter/Child). To put it simply, they will not be going with you Lucifer," Sera said. " They will be staying up here in heaven."

"Yuu? Y-You Can't Do That!" Lucifer shouted as he approached Sera, but the chain slacked short of her. "You Can't just take them from me! I know full well they're not safe in Heaven!"

"So leaving them alone for days on end, in heaven was safe?" Sera challenged. “Or letting them go to Hell with you is safer?”

"You know What I mean Sera. The Elders never accept them then, why know?!" Lucifer shouted back.

“Yuu will be under my care. I promise you they will be kept out of harms way,” Sera promised, as Lucifer continued to fight against his chains.

“Just let me see them. Let me hold them one last time!” Lucifer begged as the chains pulled him closer to the portal.

But before Sera could say anything, Lilith’s screams could be as she fell down into the portal.

“Lilith!!” Lucifer screamed, without hesitation jumped into the portal after her.

————————————

Sera sat nervesly in once’s Lucifer’s garden as Yuu brought tea and treats as they always did. As Yuu chatted on and one, the dreaded question finally arrived.

“Da hasn’t come back in a long while… Miss Sera, where is he?” Yuu asked with a worried smile.

With a deep breath, Sera gently explained to little Yuu what had happened. And what Lucifer had done on earth and how his actions had brought a horrible curse onto the earth.

“Are you Okay Yuu?” Sera asked gently.

“I-I think so. So Da is in time out? I can visit?” Yuu asked.

“I’m afraid not little one,” Sera said sadly.

“Oh, so I can see him again when his time-out is over?” Yuu asked again.

Sera slowly shook her head, as Yuu slowly started to crumble.

"So I'm never going to see him again?" Yuu asked shakily.

"I'm afraid so," Sera nodded.

"He promised me," Yuu whimpered to themselves. "Why would he lie to me. He Promised to stay out of trouble."

Sera looked on with sorrow in her eyes, as she slowly reached out to comfort them.

"Can... Can I be alone a bit?" Yuu sobs as they run back into the house.

Sera worried for the small child, quietly followed after them. Yuu ran into the house as they felt something within them. Something wanted to burst out, but it only intensified as more tears forced themselves to the surface.

This was a foreign feeling they had never felt before, and it was growing. Yuu didn't know what to do with this feeling and knowledge as they stomped about the house.

'Why did he lie? Why didn't he wait for me? Why did he leave me for the Earth?' questions flooded Yuu's mind. "Maybe because I wasn't enough."

With that though Yuu came to a halt. Was it because they couldn't give him the planet he wanted fast enough? They looked at Lucifer's once workbench. To see that the World Jar was still untouched, and most importantly. A framed Photo family of Lucifer and Yuu.

To be continued.

Tag-----------

littleladydemon

#luficer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x y/n #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin sera #hazbin hotel sera #Hazbin hotel Sera x reader #hazbin hotel angels

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 583, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character

WORDS: 1196

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:

Well, it’s pneumonia. Yeah, that’s right- I have pneumonia. As Baby Tommy would say, ‘yay yay’ (not)

“Go have fun, Elizabeth!” I urged my daughter, watching with fond eyes as she skipped off to her ballet class. “Your father or I will be here to pick you up again!”

“Okay mommy!” she called out as she disappeared into her classroom, leaving me to retreat back out to where Peter and the babies were parked out in the parking lot.

“Sush an adorable child! She really does take after her mommy!”

I smiled, nodding my thanks over towards a mother waiting over in the coffee corner for her child to get out of class.

“She gets that from her father!” I confessed with a sweet giggle before scurrying out the door and over to my husband’s Doom Buggy 3.0. “Hihi my love. Hihi sweet babies.”

“Mommy, mesies wantsies nibbles?” Baby Tommy meeped out just then, kicking his little baby feet as he chewed at her hand. “Peasies?”

Peter and I both exchanged looks and her opened his mouth to answer him when-

“I AM THE GOD OF HELLFIRE AHHHHHH”

I took my cell phone out from my bra and answered it, “Hihi Isabelle! What’s going on?”

“Hello, is this Mary Claire Ratajczyk?”

“It is yes.” A furrow formed in my brow as a knot grew in my stomach. “Now, who are you and why are you using my daughter’s cell phone?”

Peter perked up at the worried tone in my voice, settling his hand onto my knee and letting out a soft hum.

“My name is Officer Harvery- there was an incident with an attempted burglar at your house.”

“Peter-” I whimpered, throwing my cell phone at him before tearing off into the dance studio to collect Elizabeth.

“I’m so terribly sorry, but I need to collect Elizabeth,” I announced, calling my daughter over to me, where she quickly grabbed her duffle bag and exchanged her ballet slippers for trainers before the both of us ran back out again. “My love, drive.”

Peter peeled out of the parking lot and quickly hopped onto the freeway, the tension in the air thick as Peter gripped at the steering wheel with white knuckles.

“Jesus fuck-” Peter swore at he parked catty corner to the corner, narrowly avoiding ramming into a haphazardly parked police cruiser. “Sweetheart, you go on up- Bitty and I will get the babies.”

I simply just tore inside, finding Isabelle having her hands taped up by a paramedic and Katie hugging Jing in tight to her as she cowered behind the family nanny.

“Mommy!” shouted Katie, rushing over to wrap her trembling arms tight around my waist.“Mo stór,” I murmured as I welcomed her embrace. “What happened?”

“Well you see ma’am-”

“Was I talking to you?” My voice went chilly and soft with a moment’s notice. “No? Then shut up.”

The police officer looked at me with something akin to fear as I turned to Isabelle.

“Baby Noah’s father broke in, possibly hoping to kidnap the little boy,” she told me. “I beat him up some before holding him on the floor and Katie called 9-1-1. Those martial art classes were a good investment.”

“Is there a reason as to why the security feature wasn’t on?” I asked her softly as Peter and Elizabeth both came in, my big beefy soulmate wearing the triplets on his chest and Elizabeth carrying Baby Eve on a hip and Baby Tommy and Baby Noah toddling closely behind her, Baby Tommy toting Elle in his chubby little man arm.

“I didn’t think to turn it on,” Isabelle confessed sheepishly, thanking the paramedic with a brisk nod of her head. “Besides, you and Peter were to be gone for two hours tops. I also really wanted to finish that book that I stole from your office, and I knew that I probably wouldn’t go to sleep until you all have returned.”

“I can activate the security cameras and make a copy for you,” Peter offered, handing the babies over to Isabelle and I while he and Katie both led two of the policemen into his office.

Wah… wah… wah… whimpered Baby Jojo before erupting into a sudden WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH…

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH… howled Baby Mattie and Baby Teddy, the three babies screaming their heads off as the policewoman nearby jumped three feet into the air at the sudden loud commotion.

“Sorry, they’re teething!” I explained, offering Baby Mattie and Baby Jojo my curls to chew on, cooing at the two babies in my arms.

“I remember when my son was teething. The only thing that would stop his crying would be slices of frozen cucumbers. He would just chew away, happy as a little chickpea.”

“Frozen cucumber? Huh, I never heard of that hack before!” I hummed, looking up as the three mean and eleven year old girl reemerged from my husband’s office, one of the men clutching at a DVD in his hands. “My love, can you remember if we have any cucumbers in the freezer?”

“No idea sweetheart,” he answered me, his long hair tossed back and out from his hazel blue eyes in a sensible man bun. “But I also gave them a copy of Sammi’s will and custody paperwork for Baby Noah, just in case any questions come up.”

“Ah, smart thinking, my love!” I told him with another gentle hum, pressing motherly kisses to the temples of the babies in my arms. “And now, can you kindly kick everyone out of the house? I’m exhausted and really need to crash into bed now.”

“Of course sweetheart.” he intercepted the babies from me, where they immediately calmed down once up against his manly chest. “Go upstairs, take a shower, wash your hair, get changed into your jammies. I can handle this.”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

#Real person fiction (RPF) #Tattooed Wings #Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Type O Negative #Vanessa Rose Pickings/ little girl #Special needs baby #Aria Bradley #Evie Bradley #Deaf #American Sign Language (ASL) #Elizabeth Ratajczyk #Alopecia #Thomas Joseph Ratajczyk/ Baby Tommy #Autism #Katie Ratajczyk #Down’s Syndrome #Baby Violet Marie #Neonatal death #Baby Eve Lynn Ratajczyk #Abandoned baby #Matthew James Ratajczyk/ Baby Mattie #Brandon Edward Ratajczyk/ Baby Teddy #Josephine Rose Ratajczyk/ Baby Jojo #Matching tattoos soulmate AU

[johnjankovic]

SHEPHERDS AND WOLVES

I am here. Anonymous

Christianity as the progenitor of Western society has been the proverbial mortar of a great many institutions shaping man’s upward march. Between constitutional governance inspired by St. Thomas Aquinas, the Renaissance’s gallery of art the Church commissioned or capitalism’s Protestant seedbed this influence remains ecumenical. Across a spectrum from politics to science our ethics moulded civilization despite how modern philistines erase them. Reforms allowing criminals to rape and beat innocents with impunity inveigh against the moral compass of Christian jurisprudence upon which English Common Law was founded. Wild hoaxes of Catholic places of instruction murdering aboriginal children saw arsonists set a firestorm upon churches. The Marxist usurpation of government whose policies denounce Christianity impoverish people both materially and spiritually. A long decline over the preceding thirty-five years now crescendoes into a chessboard eerily set in the final few seconds before a great war between Manichean forces. The very strangeness of these times marks the hour. The medical profession gaslights how men purportedly menstruate and breastfeed. Toddlers elect their genders. Pedophilia is mainstreamed. Beliefs once held inviolable are violently twisted under the thrall of Babylon.

A nefarious funhouse exploits man to precipitate the perversion of a world on the eve of its damnation. Yet akin to the Third Law of Motion that for every action there prevails an opposite reaction if Lucifer is an interloper here anew then so too is something far more purposed. That something issues from an anomaly that ripped the fabric of space and time two thousand years ago. It is something condemned to wander the cosmos for eternity for it can neither forgive nor forget. The paroxysm of chaos afoot telegraphs the imminent conflict as the tit-for-tat grows tiresome in the search for a conclusion. The reason for this crossroad hails from a galactic stride humanity is about to embark upon into the final frontier. What ideas man exports to Mars and beyond will determine the fate of his species for millennia and it is incumbent that he be reminded of the catechism that led him here. Much like how Christopher Columbus discovered the New World upon his flagship christened Santa Maria this next expedition will be of a missionary sort. What appears lost on laypeople is how Columbus fancied himself a crusader to reclaim Jerusalem from the Muslims through precious metals sourced in newfound lands. The voyage did not manifest orthogonally to Christianity but quite the opposite. Faith was the cynosure.

Neither vainglory nor hubris coloured Columbus’ feats but rather it was the Catholic convictions he harboured that did. This self-effacement for the sake of a greater cause can be extrapolated onto the entire history of Western civilization. Sacrifice is the marrow and sinews of modernity’s sustained growth. Of course society belies this claim by infantilizing adults into a perpetual state of denial. You see these very people everyday clutching to their mortality through their promiscuous habits or ‘reliving their youth’ in debauchery. These degenerates are wayward children in a sandbox who stink of milk. Pay little heed to them as no more than a cautionary tale. The sons and daughters of our creed do not cower at hardships when their contemplation of the Crucifixion stoutens their resolve to glorify Jesus in their proper comportment. Flesh and bones decay but Christianity’s love suffers no such affliction. Perhaps you have been privy to this phenomenon yourself in the midst of a Sunday Service when a worshipper sobs inconsolably whilst the Holy Spirit imbues them with peace likened to an exorcism. There is power in the blood precisely how the eponymous hymn incants. Indeed the Gospels have been a source of beauty that has incubated a kaleidoscope of wonders from the corpus of Shakespeare to Copernicus’ heliocentric model.

To say things men dare not say or to do things men dare not do describes the invincibility boasted by a believer. Republican President Lincoln bellowed in Congress about the scourge of slavery by citing the Gospel of Matthew that a house divided against itself cannot stand. Such moral turpitude was further upbraided by Frederick Douglass who aroused the conscience of a nation in defence of a Christianity not perverted by predilection towards race. Clara Barton clad in the armour of her faith tended to the injured upon the bedlam of battlefields in the Civil War before founding the American Red Cross. Baptist Minister Martin Luther King purged prejudice in agitating against the tyranny of segregation. Britain’s William Wilberforce in his fervency for Christ became the fountainhead for the Slave Trade Act of 1807 that brought an end to institutionalized slavery. The young maiden Joan of Arc in a parable of David and Goliath was guided by providence to be a lodestar when bloodshed engulfed French sovereignty. Florence Nightingale in her Christian altruism saved scores of soldiers by her sanitary reforms gleaned from statistics. The Augustinian friar Gregor Mendel hailed as the patriarch of modern genetics authored scientific canons he observed in his monastery’s garden. Salvation and discovery are fruits of Christendom.

This pantheon of virtue in its rising watermark for humanity’s lot to forge an ideal society continues with George Washington Carver who reconciled his faith with science. The fruits of this labour with a reverence for Creation heralded a revolution in sustainable agriculture based upon the scientist’s tenets on crop rotation. Then there sits Harriet Tubman identified alongside Moses as birds of a feather in her emancipation of slaves via the Underground Railroad. For this firebrand her physical missions were pilgrimages she attributed to supernatural visions that guided her deep into the bowels of the antebellum South. Tubman fought the good fight for our family. This same gauntlet Archbishop Desmond Tutu confronted through his activism against the inequities within the dark recesses of South Africa’s apartheid. Another vignette would be the philanthropy towards social welfare by the Methodist William Booth who masterminded the Salvation Army. Soap and soup saved many souls in keeping vigil over the marginalized. Far from performative the organization abided by a strict military ethos for its war against sin whose legacy continues to this day. In the firmament of literature Christian allegories between such themes as sacrifice and redemption pervade J.R.R. Tolkien’s anthology of repute.

Brick by brick has the modern world been architected upon ecclesiastical works of Christian men and women. Yet Marxists who are pigmies amongst creatures deride this fact by revising history with their nihilism. These craven sociopaths are quite clever in their biddings for the devil by browbeating dissidents into conformity analogous to how Joseph Stalin secularized Russia. Perhaps the most apposite parallelism harkens back to the Spanish Civil War when a cohort of leftists alienated Catholics by raping their nuns and turning their churches to ash. Again Isaac Newton’s Third Law of Motion echoes in the comeuppance from General Franco who brutalized these godless zealots. History now repeats itself as the sheepish masses are led astray anew. The machinations remain conspicuously the same. Marxists inundate Christendom with military-aged men not persecuted refugees to rouse chaos by exploiting our goodwill and bastardizing the written word. Sin is proselytized to children as captains of the LGBTQ+ cartel groom them. A whole canyon of disparity exists between silently partaking in vice and its celebration. But sheeple kowtow to these orthodoxies by parading their pronouns despite how they enable the mammaries of minors being lopped off or the erosion of women’s autonomy under the jackboot of this social contagion.

A third cause célèbre is the climate change alarmism which is a pretext for humanity’s genocide. You are the carbon the champagne Marxists wish to expunge by doing away with staples like meat for synthetic alternatives laced in chemicals or shuttering farms wholesale. The mendacity reveals itself in how goalposts are so protean as they are moved further afield. The falsehoods of pseudo-scientists continue to be debunked as polar bear populations flourish, Earth’s verdant canopy expands, or corral reefs are rehabilitated. Vandals need to start forest fires just to shore up the narrative although the many fissures betray the ruse. Data is doctored by neglecting to edify the public on how surface temperatures are sampled close to urban heat islands like cities or airports in biasing anthropogenic causes. These same charlatans fail to adjust their models for the Minoan, Roman or Medieval warming periods whose thermal variations conduced to prolific yields from farmlands and vineyards. In fact the sole reason for the diaspora of Vikings inhabiting Greenland and Newfoundland adverts to these kinder climes. Be weary of such frauds indentured to another master. Jesus said, ‘Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves; so be wise as snakes and innocent as doves (Matthew 10:16)’. Do not be stupid.

#Father #Son #Christianity

[sylvie-writes]

❅ Christmas Gala ❅

❅ pairing: ransom drysdale x reader 

❅ prompt: “Out of all the seats, and you willingly choose the one beside me? Should I be concerned?” @/coffin-prompts

❅ summary: ransom has a plus one to take to the gala, so he decides to extend the invitation to his assistant. it’s nothing more than business, right?

❅ warnings: slight age-gap, a few curse words and that’s about it.

❅ word count: 2,424

❅ author’s note: i know i have a lot of requests to write, but i needed to get the gears turning if that makes any sense. i’m trying to test the waters here. once again, i’m not going to be cranking out fics every week, but here’s me shooting my shot. the story may seem slow in the beginning, but it will pick up, i promise!

(gif below is not mine, nor do i take credit for it) 

***please excuse any mistakes***

December 24th, the night of the annual Christmas Eve Gala. Every year, prestigious and wealthy families were invited to the charity event held at the Center for the Arts in Boston. Among those who were invited, were the Thrombeys and Drysdales. Your boss, Ransom, also happened to be invited to the event and for some unusual reason, he decided to extend the invitation to you as the invite included a plus one. 

A knock on the door of your apartment distracted your thoughts from your focused typing. Standing from your seat at the table, you curiously made your way to the front. You hadn’t invited anyone over and rarely did you receive solicitors. 

Taking no time, you opened the door to be greeted by an older man, holding a gorgeous red midi dress hanging inside of a plastic dry clean bag. With furrowed brows, you quickly shot your eyes to the tag on the man’s uniform. The name of the local dry cleaner embroidered onto the pocket. 

“Delivery for (y/n)?”

Nodding uneasily you reached forward and took the dress from the smiling man who left as soon as the dress was in your hold. You held the hanger with one hand and with the other dug to see the ticket along with the Michael Kors tag. 

You only knew one person who would do such a thing, and reading the name on the receipt confirmed your suspicions.

Ransom.

There was an hour and a half till Ransom would be here to pick you up. Honestly, before you were surprised with the dress, you were contemplating not going altogether. Diligently, you finished up Ransom’s schedule for the week and shut off your laptop, running to go and get ready. 

The person staring back at you in the mirror made even you swoon. Ransom had surprised you once again by having selected the correct size for you. A flattering sweetheart neckline fell comfortably on your chest as the off the shoulder sleeves hugged you just enough to where they didn’t slide. You ran your hands over the sides of your body, smoothing the dress out. Bringing your gaze down to your feet, you stepped forward to sleep your feet into the heels in front of you. Taking one last check in the mirror, you were satisfied with the look and decided to once more head to the front door. 

Searching through the small coat closet, you rummaged through the many jackets, eventually finding your most prized possession. Practically brand new, you slipped on the tan trench coat that you had bought with your first real paycheck a few years back. Right out of college, you hopped onto this job and for the past five years, you’ve worked for Ransom. The pay was good and you couldn’t complain. 

To some, this trench coat wouldn’t be anything, but to you, it was the most expensive thing you owned as it was also the first designer piece of clothing you had ever owned and purchased. Once the jacket covered your shoulders, a knock sounded on the door. With Ransom’s usual impeccable timing, you correctly assumed it was him as it was exactly 8 o’clock on the dot. 

You opened the door to see the man out of his usual sweater and slacks, but instead wearing a suit and tie, making your mouth water. Apparently he felt the same way as Ransom’s jaw slightly hinged opened and you giggled. Taking two fingers and gently pushing it back up.

“You’re staring, boss.”

Ransom shook his head and muttered out a quick “right.”

He held out an arm for you and you latched on, the two of you heading for his car. 

Arriving, you were met with Joni’s “friendly” shriek of your name. Linda paid no mind to your entrance and her scowl made you cower into Ransom’s hold. He reassuringly squeezed your arm and walked even closer to the family. In his usual cold manner, Ransom greeted his mother and then turned his attention to his father who was currently arguing with Walt. How all of them managed to piggyback onto the perks of having the Thrombey name, you’ll never know. 

As Ransom fueled his father and uncle’s argument, you wandered off to Meg who gave you a small smile. Currently, she was trying to get Jacob to talk, but he was too invested into whatever was playing on his phone. 

With a defeated sigh you went back to Ransom, running to him like a little mindless sheep. As much as you hated it, leeching onto Ransom around was the only thing to do since you felt so out of place at this event.

For what felt like a good hour, you were on your feet and unknowingly becoming Ransom’s arm candy. You both had made your way from the family and to the crowd. Filled with unease, you downed more flutes of champagne than you could count. All you knew is that jaws were moving and yet you didn’t hear or care to listen to a single word. 

At some point even Ransom had somehow managed to ditch you and with no one else to run to, you eventually found your way into the theater. The usher politely showed you around to a seat even though they were not assigned. You plopped down into the seat, taking off those awful heels seeing as no one else was in the theater. 

You sat in the empty space for what must have been a good half hour. Save for your phone, you were extremely bored and most of all tired, already fighting your eyelids that were heavily falling. At some point, chatter fell upon your ears and you quickly blinked the sleep out of your eyes. 

A few rows over, you could spot Linda and Richard, and then as you turned your head the other way, the rest of the clan was in sight. They all came from different directions, but ultimately ended up sitting behind you. Your eyes sifted through the crowd, although there was no sign of Ransom.

You had expected he’d be off with someone by now, but for some reason a small part of you had been expecting him to stay with you. A sad sigh left your lips and you then delicately crossed your legs over each other, leaning back in the chair. If Ransom was going to leave you all alone, you might as well enjoy the free show and hell, enjoy yourself. After all, it was once in a blue moon that you got all dolled up like this and truly had a good time. 

As much as Ransom acted like he didn’t care about you, you both knew that was the complete opposite. The little things he did allowed you to see that. Sometimes he would order you your favorite meal, or make you a cup of coffee for when you arrived at his house. As for tonight, Ransom knew how much you enjoyed plays and dances, hence why he invited you. In Ransom’s own way, that’s how he showed his love, through money and such. The man was raised that way which gave him the idea that this was the only way to love. Your heart ached for him as he didn’t know that there was more to love than money. Honestly, sometimes you did try to show him that, with sweet hugs and such. Like a grumpy old man, he’d grumble and try to push you off of him, but he really didn’t try hard enough. Just like a few hours ago, when he had let you hang off of his arm, which was a sign that Ransom was slowly easing into the whole idea.

The doors to the theater were harshly shut and the sound bounced off the walls, grabbing your attention. You lifted your head to scan around the room for Ransom’s face one last time when a hand grasped onto your shoulder.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

A cheeky grin was on the man’s luscious lips and it took everything in you to not lean forward and kiss away said grin. Instead, you just crossed your arms over your chest and scoffed with faux annoyance. Ransom threw his arm around your shoulders and brought his fingers up to the side of your face. With gentle strokes using the very tips of his soft fingers, Ransom brushed some hair behind your ear. Trying not to be bothered by his actions, you decided to speak up. 

“Out of all the seats, and you willingly choose the one beside me? Should I be concerned?”

As the lights go down and the show begins, you see Ransom shake his head with a slight smirk. As he does so, he lowers his hand from your hair and starts lightly tracing shapes on your bare shoulder. 

“I’m offended you’d think such a thing, (y/n). Can I not just sit with my lovely assistant who I love so much?”

Ransom was whispering in your ear at this point, but you could still hear the playfulness in his voice. A quiet laugh fell from your lips and you just shook your head disapprovingly.

“No, not after you ditched her in the lobby.”

Before Ransom can apologize, the show begins and your attention is now drawn towards the beautiful opening number. 

The show goes on, and you grow sleepy. It’s not that you weren’t enjoying the performances, no they were captivating, but you were just exhausted and definitely not one wired for these high strung events. You were tired from just merely pretending to be friendly and kind around these people. They had barely turned an eye to you since your last name wasn’t from an affluent family and you surely didn’t have a silver spoon resting on your lips. Especially with the title of “Ransom’s assistant” virtually floating over your head, the people you had met could have cared less if you were instead a dog on a leash. 

Ransom still had his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his dancing fingers were lulling you to sleep. With a soft yawn, you riskily laid your head on Ransom’s own inviting shoulder. He smiled sweetly at your trust and turned his head to place a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. Although the other Thrombeys surrounded you both, Ransom didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, their heads were too far up their asses for them to even notice your interaction with the man.

You hummed in content and snuggled a bit into his side. 

Once the show ended, Ransom gently shook you awake before anyone could see you had fallen asleep. He rose from his seat first and held out his hands for you. Sleepily, you placed them in his as the man helped you from your own seat. Unfortunately, the row of seats you were sitting in was long and you had sat smack dab in the middle, meaning you’d be standing a long while. At the moment, your back was turned towards Ransom. His radiating warmth made you more susceptible to the cold air of the room as it hit your once warm skin. Ransom noticed your chilly shaking as you ran your hands over your arms in a desperate attempt to warm yourself. Wasting no time, the man hurriedly shed off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders since your back was facing him. He placed his hands on your now-covered shoulders and leaned down to quickly kiss the base of your neck. Just as you were about to turn and face him, the line before you started to move, leaving you no time to do so.

Eventually you made it back into the lobby, where neither you or Ransom decided to speak up about the events that had just occurred. He hastily grabbed your hand and led you to the family where you had assumed you’d be socializing once more. With your free hand, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, accidentally smearing your makeup and internally groaning as you did so. You were about to let Ransom know you were heading off to fix your makeup when instead you heard the man bidding goodbye to the family. 

“Ransom, where are we going?”

The man walked with determination and pulled you along with him, the two of you showing up at the coat check. The attendant reached over the counter as Ransom took the two jackets from the young man. He turned towards you and simply responded, “We are going home.”

You cocked your head to the side, confused as you thought he’d still want to socialize a bit. The night was still young as Joni liked to say and she said way more than you liked, too.

“I thought you’d want to hang out a bit more, Ransom?”

He continued walking out the door, but still held up his end of the conversation.

“I saw how tired you were and figured we should head out before it got any later.”

Stopping dead in your tracks and right outside of the building, you turned to the man with an unreadable expression. The freezing night wind hit your face like needles, yet you still stood in your place.

“Seriously? If that’s the case I could have just taken an Uber, you know. I’m not here to be a pain in your ass.”

Ransom shook his head and you looked up at him with squinted and suspicious eyes.

“You could never be a pain in my ass. Especially with all of the things you do for me.” The man looked down on you now. His eyes meeting your own. 

“First off, I would not have you ride in an Uber this late,” bringing his hand to your chin, he continued, “and second, this is what you do when you love someone… right?”

He looked almost sheepish now and you had to refrain from making some cutesy expression at his adorable face. Proud of his realization, you excitedly nodded and with great confidence, pressed your lips to his. 

Ransom brought his hands to your waist and pulled you even closer as if he could lose you by not doing so. The two of you then leaned away after some time, small and sweet smiles on both of your faces. Ransom held his hand out for you, leading you to the car and eventually to his house, where you’d spend your first night together enjoying precious time spent in each other’s company. 

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline​ @siriuslyslyslytherin 

If I have messed up or you want to be removed, please do not hesitate to ask. Same goes for joining! 

#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #sylvie writes christmas celebration

[metanoiamorii]

❛Peace through Power; Faith through Fire.❜

♧ Title: War of Wrath [WoW]

♧ Status: Brainstorming and Drafting

♧ Point of View: Third Person

♧ Genre: Fantasy, Action, Drama, Epic

♧ Warnings: Violence, War, Death, Nudity, Racism, Past Abuse, Generational Healing, Generational Trauma, Vengeance, Genocide, Colonialism, ethics vs morals, history erasure, history repeats itself, humans are the bad guys really.

♧ Featuring: Dragons, Dragons in themselves deserve recognition; found family, diverse LGBTQ+ characters, complex and complicated characters, fantasy religions, plenty of symbolism, complex world building, ethics vs morals, a whole lot of moral grey can be fit into this bad boy, there is some enemies to friends to lovers going on, and some enemies to friends to family too.

♧ Setting: there will be encompass of territories and areas explored. Few inspirations are Mongolia, The Incan Empire, Viking Scandinavia, Ancient Greece.

♧ Synopsis:

In Gri'lian, the gods have vanished and the mortals overstep their boundaries.

Long have been the years of war between human and dragekind. Humans kill the dragons for territory and control; the drage kill the humans in self defense. As time goes on, history proves the humans will not stop. They revel in the war they have instigated, they thrive on the power and authority they have taken by force.

It has been proven the gods have abandoned their creation, they are nowhere to be found. If they will not stop the humans... who will? Who will place the world back into natural balance?

What happens when a single dragon decides enough is enough? He makes the call, if the gods will not intervene, new gods need to be bore. He alone begins a collection of misfits, the most qualified to end the terror of humans and reinstate the drages; those he can trust to bring a new era.

They make their peace and take on their new role. They carve into their skin their sacred oath and adorn themself in the paint of their ancestors. Together, they go to war against the human. They go to war and fight like no one has before. They turn the tides of war and make a name for themself.

They have won every battle, but the war isn't won.

The only way to win the war, they come to realize in time, is not through violence, but through peace. By living in harmony with the human, not in war. They have to learn to live with the humans, to share the world and their lives with one another.

♧ Tease:

Faith through fire, peace through power; our souls bear written this vernacular. Our intentions we laid bare, yet all still cower in fear. To absent gods you make your prayers.... when we answer, you acclaim we give scare? If the help you wish to shun, why should we give chance upon chance to you anymore?

We fight for family, for it is our duty and sacred honor; with blood and fire, we will show you the price of war.

A battle you wished for, know a war you shall now pay for. The natural order we shall restore. Know, although bound to be ignore, our actions are only sincere. This war, by your hand, was it made so severe... For pride, a glut of greed, you were made a whore. Nay, your life we will not spare.

Why?

Why of your lives will we not spare?

Perhaps reminder is require.

The waters have turned red, from the blood we have bled. Of you, we pled, yet our mothers and fathers and our brothers and our sisters you behead. Of daughters and sons you have killed.

Your acts you dare to justify, lacking a shred of dignity?!

You have denied us as your friend, with caution you should have tread... for now? You are dead.

A warning:

They say, the red sun marks death, signal bloodshed beneath the light of its brothers and sisters in the passing darkness... know, for you it is coming.

♧ Excerpt:

"... Father." With only respect, Svihar greeted.

Violkoa shifted his hold onto his fan, blowing a light gust with it. "Svihar." He greets back, in a tone less than kind. "You are a rare one to come, what is it?"

It was no lie. He paid more respect to Kallai, sharing in her beliefs. But still... Here he was, kneeling before his father. "I seek your blessings, Father."

That scowl so neatly woven upon Violkoa's features nearly lightened. Bemused. He cocked an eyebrow and closed his fan. "What do you seek blessings for?"

"An honour battle." Svihar drew his head forward, daring his eyes from the floor to meet Violkoa's.

Now that scowl faltered, the rare smirk pulled onto that stoic and weathered face. "An honour battle?" Violkoa's repeated. "With whom?"

"Whomever I desire." It is a bite, with fangs drawn. Realizing his mistake, Svihar lowers his head and draws in a breath through his nose. "All that have broken their oaths to you, those that cannot adhere to order, the ones who know no law..."

Violkoa unfurled his fan. He shifts the arm he holds around himself and stands, fanning himself.

Silence.

Svihar keeps his head low, awaiting a response. He knows better than to raise his head and tempt a response. He waits. He waits.

He waits until the fan snaps shut in harshness, a gust of wind sent through the chambers. The fan disappears into Violkoa's sleeve as his arm raises, he plucks the center spine from the bun he wears and strides forward. He does not drop to his knees, but he lowers himself so he may spin his son's hair into a similar bun and tuck the spine into it.

To his feet, Violkoa rises. He turns upon his heels, his quilled tail dragging behind him as he disappears back into the temple. He gives a simple command, as Svihar rises to his feet, only when Violkoa no longer is in sight: "Go to war, My Son."

♧ Characters:

— The Lovers

Kaithrine Eve Flora; The First Dragonlord

Female • She/Her • Human • Pansexual • Demiromantic

The young woman that rules Virta'Niliq. Ruler from a young age, Kaithrine has matured faster than she should have. She understands the way of the world more than the adults around her do. As she ages, she meets her future husband, and she becomes the heroine of a story as old as time when she joins forces with the league of dragons that plague the humans. She leads by example and creates history as its known.

Eoin'fynil Sirenheart; The Blood Taint

Amab • Agender • He/They • Water Dragon • Pansexual • Demiromantic

A man with a legacy to uphold: his grandmother is the refined ruler of a sea with a ruthless reputation, his father is an enigma with a merciless reputation.... Eoin'fynil is a nomad, trying to put a distance with his family to raise his son. He puts distance with his family, but he can't outrun a young girl with high ambitions, and his role in history.

— The Order

Svihar Hopebringer; The Father of the Order

Intersex • Genderqueer • He/They • Rainbow Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

The drage who has brought on a revolution. Although he carries a ruthless reputation to his name, demonized by the humans, he's a very compassionate man. He cares immensely and expresses deeply. He's faithful till the end to his kindred and protective of the family he has created.

Ryltar Flametongue; The Cinder King

Transmasc • Agender • He/They • Fire Dragon • Grey-Asexual • Demi-Homoromantic

The one Svihar trusts the must, and the drage all know stand as his favorite child. He's a drage without compassion that will raze everything before his eyes to ashes, if it means winning the war. He is one the humans fear, as they know he has no mercy to give to them for their crimes.

Dyiare Seawraith; The Wraith of the Sea

Transfem • She/Her • Water Drage • Grey-Asexual • Demi-Homoromantic

The grandmother of Eoin'fynil, known as one of the Sages of the Sea. She's a woman that doesn't smile, her mind fixed only on her responsibilities. She's serious and stern, she has no room to relax and laugh.

Syvtnr Venomtongue; The Enchantress of Reckoning

Afab • Nonbinary • She/They • Nature Dragon • Polyamorous Pansexual • Aromatic

A drage known to masquerade as a human. Famed for her beauty, she is a seductress who uses that weapon to bring humans to their knees. Apathetic, she does not regret using her tacts of manipulation to secure victory for her kindred. And yet, it's her price to bear few see beyond her beauty, she's not seen as a individual, but often only as a tool.

Ayros Golden-Father; The Heart of the Order

Amab • Agender • He/They • Light Dragon • Polyamorous Pansexual • Polyamorous Demiromantic

The trusted advisor, the one Svihar will most frequently turn to when he needs the truth, or advice. A quiet man, Ayros will keep to himself and not offer his unsolicited advice. He will most frequently stand back and observe; he will make himself known, his authority acknowledged, when necessary.

My'fel Frigidbane; The White Shadow

Amab • Demiboy • He/They • Snow Dragon • Bisexual • Aromantic

Simple-minded compared to the rest, My'fel is a drage with a one-track mind. He cares for his basic needs: food, sleep, reproduction, and the art of hunting. He's ill-tempered and reclusive, he doesn't care for companionship, and nothing seems to be able to make him change his ways.

Nyhmar Bronze-Heart; The Righteousheart

Afab • Nonbinary • They/Them • Earth Dragon • Demisexual • Demiromantic

Viewed as Benevolent, Nyhmar is anything as. Perhaps the most bloodthirsty of their family, they have earned a reputation for being amicable and approachable. History forgets how they reigned as a warlord before they joined Svihar, and they demand the blood of all humans, deeming no one innocent of their ancestors' crimes.

Rauor Savage-Heart; The Heartless Beast

Amab • Agender • They/He • Fang Dragon • Pansexual • Aromantic

The youngest of the family and it shows. He follows closely in the footsteps of his more heartless siblings, particularly My'fel. Known for his sadistic streak and apathetic nature, Rauor is an individual that never quite learned that you don't play with your food.

Za-Ylviar Nightstalker; The Eternal Nightmare

Afab • Agender • They/Them • Energy Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

The most revered of their family by the humans. They favor the terror Rauor instills, the flavor of death Ryltar enjoys, and the dread Zivaryz embodies. They are brutal, erratic, dangerous. No one believes they are capable of compassion and thread with caution when their name is evoked.

Clyte Starforger; He Who Lights The Way

Male • He/Him • Star Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

Compared to his siblings, Clyte is harmless. He's not violent, nor does he care for blood. He enjoys mischief, causing problems and reveling in watching others trip over their own feet. He's a trickster, to put it plain.

Zivaryz Endbringer; He Who Will Destroy The World

Intersex • Agender • They/He • Bone Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

Viewed as an object, a weapon, Zivaryz is not viewed as a living and breathing individual. Although a dragon, both human and dragekind will vy to possess the weapon that is Zivaryz. Known to destory everything they touch, they will wither and drain the life of all things they can. A valuable weapon to have in a war.

L'ymra Spiritwalker; They Who Know All

Afab • Genderfluid • They/She/He • Spirit Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

Perhaps the most soft of their family, L'myra is not a fighter, they do not care for blood and war. They desire peace, harmony. They wish to see the land heal, and the mistakes and crimes of the past be acknowledged. There is a long way to recovery, but they are adamant it will happen one day.

Blym Serenescales; The Guardian Beneath the Skies

Intersex • Genderqueer • They/Them • Air Dragon • Demisexual • Demiromantic

The most akin to their father, Blym puts family and responsibilities before all else. They hold the goals Svihar has set out for them. They aspire to be honorable and never be swayed, no matter the trouble they face for keeping a positive outlook on life.

♧ Taglists:

WOW: @lend-your-lungs-to-me, @wannabeauthorzofija, @northernrosewritings, @shadeshadow234, @necros-writings, @rhikasa

GENERAL: @endlesshourglass, @writerray, @poore-choice-of-words, @primusesgiantmetalballbearings

BOTH: @notugalan, @cecilsstorycorner, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @hazard-writes, @aligned-stars-writing

#Wip intro #Wip introduction #Dragons #My writing #fantasy writer #Fantasy #Wip: WoW #Wip: War of Wrath #Have some found family #Have some dragons #Have some everything #This is a giant wip let me tell you #I can't begin to tell you if I start it with Svihar founding the Order; or if I start where Kaithrine becomes relevant #All we know is it's a big excuse to write so many dragons #Because we love dragons #Who doesn't love dragons? #Fucking weirdos #That's who. #in the midst of chaos there is queue #Morri's collection

[lovequinn]

remember when everyone used to do those “year in review” blog posts and shit on new years eve? i’m gonna do one of those again!

sometimes i forget this is a tumblr BLOG and i can write whatever long shit i want and not just post pretty gifs so let’s GOOOO end of the year blog entry:

2020 was definitely SOMETHING. it was a nightmare. it was like an acid trip fever dream that never ended (and it still hasn’t! who knows what’s left to happen!)

but you know what? while everything was going to shit and i was forced to sit alone with myself for more cumulative time than i’ve EVER wanted to, i learned a lot. and i feel like i’ve come out the other side in such a good mental space that i’m genuinely proud and want to share a bit.

some things stayed the same obviously. i still have a firm belief that taco bell is gourmet cuisine and found a way to continue eating it even in lockdown. i still have more funko pops than i know what to do with (seriously, i moved into a new apartment MONTHS ago and still haven’t managed to unpack them all).  i still get calls from my grandparents asking about @erikahenningsen​ because she’s still their favorite grandchild.

a lot is different, though. i lost my job that i love so dearly. not only that, but so did many of my loved ones. our entire industry is gone. the art form i'm passionate about is on an indefinite pause. instead of going out and seeing friends a few nights a week, i’ve gotten to see them just a handful of times in twelve months. the two big events that i look forward to every year were cancelled. i ate thanksgiving dinner from boston market alone on my couch.

when bad things happen, i have always had a tendency to shut down and cower until they get better. i’ve never been good at seeing the glass half full. but for the first time this year, i tried.

i wanted to feel more comfortable in my own skin, so i cut ten inches of my hair off...and instantly felt better.

i tried out some new fashion that a lot of people thought was stupid, but you know what? it made me feel good.

i struggled going into this year with some unhealthy weight loss that came from depression, and it caused a lot of physical and mental health problems. but i rediscovered my love of hiking and mountain climbing over the spring and summer and started cooking new things that interested me, and i’m now in the most healthy physical shape i’ve been in since high school and achieved that in a positive way.

i realized that if i can’t use one skill for the time being, i might as well use another. so i pivoted from theater to honing my communications experience and now have an awesome recruitment/pr position at an ivy league university, and i’m learning so much from the people i work with.

finally, FINALLY, i got a proper diagnosis re: my mental health and while it isn’t easy to handle all the time (or most of the time), it is INCREDIBLY comforting to know what is going on and to be seeking the right kind of treatment that will make it a bit easier.

the hardest thing i had to recognize this year was that i am not obligated to keep myself in a toxic environment to placate other people. if certain relationships are genuinely harming your mental health, you do not have to stay in them, no matter who they are. not everyone has your best interests at heart even if they say they do, and not every friendship is meant to last, and that’s okay. i snapped and stopped putting energy into people that refused to put that same energy back, and while that means the people i’m leaving this year with aren’t all the same that i started it with, in the long run that has made all the difference for my happiness.

on the contrary! i was faced with the fact that sometimes the people you thought were the most selfish, evil people can grow just like you have. i was able to reconnect with someone who hurt me immensely last year and get a genuine apology, and worked through a lot of the aftermath with them. you can’t forget and take away bad things that happened, but you can choose to heal and move forward if given the option and i’m glad to be working on rebuilding a friendship that i thought i would never get back.

i also learned that when you think you’ve hit rock bottom: you haven’t. it can always get worse. but the worse it gets, the more likely it is that things will get better soon.

there are obviously a lot of things that happened in 2020 where the glass absolutely cannot be seen as half full. none of this personal growth shit is worth the tragedies that happened, please don’t think that’s my point here; i would trade it all if i could.

but it at least helps to feel like, if nothing else, i can say i ended 2020 as a better version of myself than how i started it.

wishing all of you a happy new year, and here’s hoping 2021 isn’t terrible.

#personal #now if you will excuse me i am going to ~attempt~ to make fondue

[yourdeepestfathoms]

everything great about Burlington Carrie

i’m slowly watching every version of Carrie the musical on YouTube and rating them, so we’re kicking this off with Burlington Carrie!

The musical starts with fire alarms, police sirens, fire roaring, and people screaming, which is such a cool way to open the performance! Then they end and are replaced with a heartbeat that gets faster and faster, and agh! I love it!

Right off the bat, gotta say this show gets a point for having an actual set. As much as I love BK and Seattle, the lack of background and set pieces really throws off the immersiveness.

This show also doesn’t have the “everyone wears red” thing going on like BK and Seattle did, which I enjoy because in the book Carrie wasn’t allowed to wear red. 

Also, the ages in this cast are a little strange. Mostly all the students look like college kids, but the Chris looks like she’s in her thirties and Carrie looks like she’s fifteen, maybe sixteen. A little odd, but hey. If Chris is supposed to be an adult bullying a child, then I could get on board with that!

For the opening choreo in In, Sue kinda gets blocked and thrown around and then circled, which is something I’ve never seen before! It’s really cool looking! I love the way she stops being scared and starts singing with the others in a blink of an eye.

THEY LET MISS GARDENER SAY “you can choke on it for all I care” HELL YEAH

Miss G throws a basketball at one of the girls 

Really enjoying how they actually play a sport during the gym par of In. I love the choreo where the dances look like they’re playing, don’t get me wrong, but something about seeing these girls throw around a basketball feels a lot more immersive.

Cynthia Reynolds, the girl who plays Carrie, really goes hard with the whole “shy girl” mannerisms and I love it. She is so cute.

Carrie’s loud “WHAT” when Sue says she got her period

Also holy shit, Cynthia is actually naked. Like, I’ve always been under the assumption that the actresses wear a strapless bra and at least shorts or underwear under the towel, but no she has nothing around her chest. 

Good for her for doing that! If that were me and there was a wardrobe malfunction and the towel fell off, I would just die. Like, cancel the rest of the show, I can’t recover from that.

Chris’s face when Sue said Miss G isn’t a lesbian

(She is)

Cynthia’s vibrato in the opening note of Carrie is AMAZING

I love angry Carrie is! Both the character and the song!

Carrie falls to her knees and whimpers because of cramps in the middle of Carrie (song)

Look at this cutie!!

I love how unflattering Carrie’s clothes are. Like, it’s a wrinkly white shirt, a tan jacket with one (1) button buttoned, and fucking khakis that look way too tight for her legs. I love it.

Every time I watch a new version of Carrie, I always get nervous that the girl who plays Carrie won’t be able to hold the notes, since Carrie is an extremely difficult role, but Cynthia does a really good job! She has such a pretty voice, too!

Billy feels up and slaps Carrie’s thigh during the scene with all the boys

Carrie already looks like she’s about to burst into tears at the start of And Eve Was Weak

Where as in Seattle Carrie was on her knees for most of the song and in BK she was shoved around, here Carrie gets grabbed by the hair a lot and cowers. She also gets her arm twisted.

Carrie’s screams as she’s being pulled into the closet are heartbreaking!!!!

Billy snorts crack at the start of the party scene

The guys pick up Chris in The World According The Chris which was pretty damn cool

During the beginning of the show, they had chairs for the period scene, but for the scene where they’re actually in a classroom they make the kids sit on the floor lol

Carrie hugging her backpack in class, poor baby is so anxious

When Mr. Stephens was talking about who had the best poem and says that person should stand and read, Sue starts to get up and then immediately turns around and goes 😬 when Tommy’s name is said

But she’s supportive we stan

“Yeah, Tommy boy! That’s my baby!!!” -Billy

After Dreamer In Disguise, Sue immediately takes the poem from Tommy and starts reading it lol

The way Carrie says “it was beautiful” was so cute!!!

Billy mocks what Carrie said about Tommy’s poem in the most gay voice omg

The way Carrie speaks in this show is really in character for her. It’s kinda choppy and stammered. She. Talks. Like. This. There’s pauses and she stutters a lot and it fits so well!

Carrie SCREAMS at Sue WOW

Miss Gardener absolutely just tears into the girls during gym. She’s just insulting them left and right!

Have I mentioned that I love this Miss Gardener? Because she’s REALLY GOOD. Major props to Mackenzie Smith!!

The way Frieda says “sorry, Carrie” is a lot funnier than it probably should have been

Also Helen’s “Sorry????”

This Carrie is so fragile. Chris says she eats shit and she bursts into tears.

Carrie’s expression in the opening part of Unsuspecting Hearts.... She’s so sad

Also the bags under her eyes are HUGE does she ever SLEEP

Miss Gardener tries to dance with Carrie!!!! It’s so cute!!!!!

The way Miss Gardener spreads her arms and then Carrie looks down at her own and slowly copies her is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen

They t-posin

Even closer

Carrie immediately hugs Miss Gardener, it’s so cute!!

Carrie’s big grin and the way she says “thank you” after she gets invited to prom has my heart melting

The anger from Cynthia and Jillian (Margaret) in I Remember How Those Boys Could Dance is so powerful!!!!!

Instead of closing the windows, Carrie pins Margaret up against the wall with her telekinesis, which is a really interesting take on that part of the song that I’ve never seen before!

We love Carrie eating pie while watching her mom cry against a wall

So during A Night We’ll Never Forget, they have it set up where Norma, Frieda, Helen, Stokes, Freddie, and George are in class and singing about their plans for prom and Miss Gardener is reacting to what they’re saying. Another interesting take on the prom and very entertaining!

Look at this baby! Look at her with her hair down!

Isn’t she just the cutest little thing?

After Margaret calls Carrie a fool in Stay Here Instead she instantly flinches away like she’s scared

“I NEVER SHOULD HAVE LET YOU LIVE!!!” “Then why did you, Mama?” WOAHHH NEW LINES

Carrie grabs Tommy’s hand with both of hers

The way Carrie says “no shit” oh my god

Miss Gardener in her dress has me Big Gay

“After prom a few of us are going--” “OKAY”

Frieda clapping when Helen says prom king and queen insults women

MR. STEPHENS DANCING DURING PROM CLIMAX

Miss Gardener’s reaction to that

ALSO CARRIE GETS DOWN IN PROM CLIMAX HELL YEAH!!!!!

Her reacting to herself dancing and then giggling over it

She dances with Frieda!!

After Carrie and Tommy get announced prom king and queen, Carrie goes around hugging everyone and it’s SO CUTE

She launches herself into Mr. Stephens and he stumbles back slightly

And now we get to what is probably the best The Destruction scene I have ever seen before

FIRST OF ALL, the blood mainly goes all the way down Cynthia’s back, so she has to smear it on her dress and face, but I LOVE how dark red it is! 

Next, during “our father who art in heaven” she breaks down into sobs and it’s so heartbreaking!!!

On the first “oh my god” she slams her hand back against the wall and smears the blood. The look of terror on her face as she looks at her hands is incredible!!!!

During the Note Of Death, Cynthia has to shift her pitch to hit the note, but she ends it with a scream, which sounds so good!!! I still think Keaton sang the song better, but Cynthia had so much emotion!!

When the massacre begins, everyone starts to scream and run around in a panic instead of Carrie controlling them all and make them wiggle around like in BK and Seattle. Instead, she kills them one by one as they frenzy around and try to escape. They all cry and scream at the ones who died to get up. There’s also a “fire” going and it’s just so good!!!!

As Carrie slowly walks out of the prom, Chris screams at her. And then everyone starts to cry and moan and call for help as the lights fade to black and holy shit it’s so chilling.

Cynthia cries out her lines over the prom instead of whispering them. It’s so heartbreaking to see and hear her sob and wail! And she continues to do so even as Jillian sings the reprise of Carrie.

My god the SCREAMS after Margaret dies! The EMOTION! I actually started crying because it’s just so sad!

Sue pulls Carrie into her arms even as she wails and shrieks and cries with her, which hurts even more!!!!

AND OH MY GOD THIS PART

When Sue sings alone during the end of Epilogue and all the kids part and there is Carrie, bloodied, staring blankly forward, and Sue just sings to her in tears

AND THEN CARRIE TURNS AND JUST LOOKS AT HER AND AAAGH 

GO WATCH THIS PRODUCTION THE ENDING WILL KILL YOU IF CYNTHIA!CARRIE’S ADORABLENESS DOESN’T

#carrie #carrie the musical #burlington carrie #carrie white

[bunny-lou]

can we get a long awaited conversation between Maleficent and Hades and Mal all in Fairy Godmother’s office for “family counseling”? And Fairy Godmother just cannot believe the amount of baggage this family has.

This has been sitting in my inbox since the third movie premiered. I’m the worst!

Enjoy!

---

Between the art shows and the goodness classes and the ‘new queen of Auradon’ event, Fairy Godmother has taken quite an interest in Mal. She thinks the young girl is bright and determined and committed. Mal is tough on the outside, but all she really wants is to feel safe and loved.

Maybe this was not the best way to go about it.

Maleficent and Hades - both wearing cuffs that didn’t restrict their movements, but kept their magic to a minimum - sit on either side of Mal, who is so red in the face, she looks like she’s eaten one too many strawberries.

“You came to me. All you wanted me for was to knock you up!”

“Lovely language.” Maleficent drawls. “And all you wanted was to feel powerful again for a moment. You have quite the interest in pretending women are enslaved to you.”

“Please, please, please, stop talking about this.” Mal mumbles into her hand. Her eyes are close and she’s folding in on herself.

Fairy Godmother clears her throat. “Perhaps we can talk about how the two of you can improve on parenting now that you’ll have better access to your daughter.”

“Oh yes, my daughter.” Maleficent sneers at Mal. “Who-.”

“Our daughter.”

“Who came to Auradon with one, simple task of getting me the wand, and instead did the very opposite and left me as a lizard.”

Hades throws his hands up. “She’s more powerful than you! Isn’t that what you wanted? You wanted her to be strong!”

“I wanted her to be my way out!”

“And I was!” Mal cries, turning in her seat to face her mother. “I got the barrier down. All the villain kids are in Auradon and the villains are getting help!” Mal gestures to Fairy Godmother, who waves behind her desk.

“You chose good.”

“She chose happiness.” Hades places a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “She went for what she wanted instead of what you wanted. Our daughter has a backbone and knows what she wants.” He leans over Mal so he can seethe in Maleficent’s face. “Get over it.”

Maleficent doesn’t cower away. “Easy for you to say when you were human all this time.”

“Maybe you should go back to having scales. That was easier for all of us.”

“If I could show you my real scales,” Maleficent holds up her cuffs, “I’d send you back to the underworld with one bite.”

Hades snaps his fingers and leans back in his seat. “Speaking of which,” he pokes Mal, “you’re in line to take over the underworld. I mean, I won’t die because, you know, godhood, but if you wanted to,” Hades shrugs, “you can rule part of it.”

Mal perks up in her chair. “Really?” She taps a finger to her chin. “Princess of the Isle, queen of Auradon, now goddess of the underworld?”

There’s that little glint in her eyes again, something Fairy Godmother rarely sees in Mal nowadays, but always scares her.

After a childhood on the Isle, alone and afraid and defenseless, Mal craves power. She wants to be in charge, be in control.

The line between power and evil is a thin line, one many have fallen off of and found their way to the Isle because of it.

“Let’s get back on track, shall we?” Fairy Godmother straightens the already straight papers on her desk. “We’re here for our girl.” She grins at Mal. “And for-.”

“Our girl.”

Hades and Maleficent look at one another in surprise. They had spoke at the same time, uttered the same words, now share the same expression.

“She’s not yours.” Hades breaks first and glares at Fairy Godmother.

“Mal belongs to the Isle, to...us.”

“I don’t belong to anyone!”

“Your parenting skills are clearly lacking!” Fairy Godmother snaps. Her tone draws raised eyebrows from the three people in front of her. “You are in need of parenting classes and therapy in order for you to be the support system Mal deserves.” Fairy Godmother narrows her eyes at Hades, then Maleficent. “She isn’t for you to control or your minion. She is going to be queen of Auradon within the year and she is a young girl who missed out on her childhood because of the two of you!”

For a long moment, everyone is silent.

“Do I get to walk you down the Isle?”

Mal blinks and looks at Hades. “I...didn’t even know you wanted to come to the wedding at all.”

“Of course I do.” He grumbles with his arms crossed. “I want to be there. If...you want me to.”

“You know I do.” Mal reaches out and places her hand on his arm.

Maleficent clears her throat.

“Please tell me you’re choking.” Hades rolls his eyes.

“Mom.” Mal turns to Maleficent. “I want you there too. That’s why... I mean, you’re here. I want you to be a part of my life.”

Maleficent does not look at her. “Stop your groveling. I suppose I’ll be there. I’m not too busy these days.”

Fairy Godmother smiles. It isn’t the best ending to their first session, but at least no one was yelling anymore. Or threatening each other. And nothing had been set on fire.

And, despite the heavy annoyance on her face, Mal sits between her parents with the smallest smile teasing her lips.

#mal descendants #maleficent descendants #hades descendants #fairy godmother descendants #bal #maleficent #hades #fairy godmother #filled request #My writing #kneesheee

[eve-cower]

IM TOO ITCHY TO DRAW THIS HAHAHA based from friends convo again

Having sans who taking husband role instead of malewife its kinda attractive..

And yes, meet the sans's clone, their fanchild i suppose? Created by sans /jk

#eve cower art

[libidomechanica]

Practicing Sands

Expunge their “midnight pass like  the son, but drove Confusion  slowly away from  the chronicle,” 

how poore Eve had ever dwelt  or dwells (the aforesaid  paints as Saint Bartholomee;  rede in his 

plighted, “Go, little work ‘Longinus  tells you to  fulfil, Fails to win,  no matters worse. and not 

even there I forgetting  each others eyes  down to Camelot.  my misery can scarcely 

passe lights and dead  pretence of honourable  madmens father worlds could  not in this w

as a girl— “ah  fool, what he w as as if still it  found out of long 

frustration gatherd round a  small items costly  were still more peculiar  mystic art, 

canst sit, and are gone  off wholly granted;  yet what  is our paine, 

make gently cowers his  breathd the houses  high), the dark, suppression,  and rare:” but Virgils 

so very shadows, said  Juan; “but to give  a feeble cry he said; ‘ but I really aught 

which showd the moons,  or hints to the  truth may, if you  believe in Heavens—Old 

Love put forth thou shalt never  being only in her  snowy white rush, but  for a living 

the To-be,  self-rebukes, and age- bent, sore distress, prays to  the torrents falln, 

may rise again; our  foreheads drawn and  stings, I have her turned,  and how can body, 

we thus algates hous? That  the destroys what  she would be deed, yet  wol I dye, I may chance might 

see who hath produce  some bought, then they heard morals  are all forget,  still such a curse— no 

Christian should not all  country seat,’ or which  double bow, and his  door. ” Ye cal him?’”

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #137 texts

[lioninsunheart]

Good Morning/Afternoon Tumblrs!

¨Visual images of the Goddesses stand in stark contrast to the image of God as an old white man, jarring us to question our culture's view that all legitimate power is male and that female power is dangerous and evil. The image of the naked Eve brazenly taking the apple from the serpent, then cowering in shame before a wrathful male God, tells us not only that female will is the source of all the evil in the universe, but also that the naked female body is part of the problem. This image communicates to the deep mind the message that female will and female nakedness must be controlled and punished by male authority. In contrast, the Goddesses show us that the female can be symbolic of all that is creative and powerful in the universe. The simplest and most profound meaning of the image of the Goddess is the legitimacy and goodness of female power, the female body, and female will.¨ ~Carol P. Christ, Rebirth of the Goddess art: Lauri Blank

#carol p. christ #goddesses #male authority #female goodness #female power

[marysmacdvnald]

        cities are built from ruins ; i think people are too. 

for, no one rarely ever told stories about the sheep in wolves clothing, no. she’d crafted herself a W O L F indeed, and she’d be prepared to d i e as such.

    name : mary reagan macdonald

    age :  twenty two 

    former house : gryffindor 

    current occupation : trainee potioneer

    affiliation / loyalty : order of the phoenix

    romantic / sexual orientation : bisexual / biromantic

    patrounus : the wolf ––– the wolf is a bit of a darker and mysterious soul, with the strength of a fighter. a person with this patronus has had a lot happen in their life, and do to that they wear a mask over their emotions. they do, however, have a very big heart that is full of both passion and fire. they have a lot of emotion within them that they are willing to give, but only once they completely trust you, and since they have been made cynical over the years this can be difficult. (x) 

     moral alignment : chaotic good

Mary MacDonald had always been an odd girl, the black sheep in a sea of polite children in a world where happiness was the highest of expectations. Growing up in an isolated village in Northern Ireland, Mary struggled with the normalcy of a life she had never quite chosen. Whilst kids were seen laughing, one by one trailing after one another, Mary herself could be spotted sitting idly by. A natural observer, it had been no doubt that she’d succumbed to the teasing words that came her way. It didn’t take long for the neighbourhood children to pry open every wound in which she’d tried so hard to conceal to get a rise out of the girl. What an oddity, the towns people would come to whisper, how a girl as small as she would never cower. Instead, Mary found herself merely standing stoic, ready for the impaling harm that would come at the hands of the boys and girls alike. No elder siblings to watch over her, and parents much too occupied with their day to day life upon the farm that Mary’s last option was to merely accept it. It wasn’t until she’d turned ten that she fully understood as to why.

She’d always been small for her age, others towered over her by a foot or two to say the least. Yet, within her stature there was a might in which everyone, including herself, had never expected. The incident had taken place on a brisk winter’s eve, Mary bundled in the same jumper she’d worn the year before, as the children made their rounds. Taunts were thrown her way, words meant to maim and wound. Freak. Whilst she’d gathered her things, they’d pushed her down, and it was as if the rage she’d kept carefully stowed away within her had finally broken free. Blood pouring from her nose as she’d watched the boy’s arms snap, the shrill screams of the children echoing throughout the would be silent night. It was then that their thoughts on her had been confirmed, for they ran as fast as they could away from the monster of a girl. Isolation came after, for her and her parents alike. Banished from the only place they’d ever called home, the MacDonald family found themselves secluded. Mary wondered if her parents had finally  understood, instead there had only been whispers of witchcraft, of the devil possessing her whole. 

[ Religion tw } Religion had always been important to the MacDonald’s, so when their daughter began to possess what they could only see as a demonic spirit, it was as if all hope had been lost. Long gone were the loving gazes and affections that came from her mother and father. To them , she was an abomination, a threat to their sacred vows made with the lord himself.

Months passed by and it seemed as though every outburst the girl had made had been followed by broken glass and shattered porcelain. Yet, one fateful night had changed everything in the eyes of the girl, her world forever altered by the words and wisdom shared by Minerva McGonagall. Swept up into the magic that Hogwarts had to offer, Mary found herself enamoured by those who shared the same gift as she. Treading carefully into the shark infested waters, the girl carried herself with more confidence than she had in years prior.

Mulciber sought out to break the girl, to make it known that she would never be one of them. It had been unforgivable, unimaginable and she’d kept it close to her besmirched soul. The school had attempted to cover it up, her infirmary visit, the scars both physical and emotional that followed. Even Mary herself had been sickened to her stomach by the looks her classmates had given her, as if she were a pariah. 

There were students who sought to make you feel weak, to expose you for what you truly were. A girl filled with nothing short of dark magic, and yet one who did not belong. To them, you were nothing, you were below their purist souls. They hid behind their names, all the while you didn’t feel the need to hide at all. So every word in which they’d thrown, serpentine tongues spitting and teeth bared, she ignored. Oh how Mary loved to watch them squirm, to feel nothing but obsolete in the mind of someone they felt beneath them. Her nerve, daring at most times, had come to no surprise as her time within the Gryffindor tower had taught her.

What they’d done to her, what they’d unleashed in her, was something neither side was expecting. For, beneath her pale skin laid a monstrosity of a girl. Shedding the fear she’d once had bandaged beneath gauze and broken bones, Mary MacDonald’s magic came to fruition upon their darkened acts. She’d felt powerful when they’d only meant to make her feel inferior, she’d struck back when they had assumed she’d fade away. 

Upon graduating, Mary sought out a way to make the new world she now called home better, safer for those who followed after her. It was then that she joined the Order. Although she wasn’t known for her duelling skills, Mary possessed the dedication and drive to take a stand. 

Overly protective, there are few people in which Mary would risk her life for ––– even fewer that she would kill for. Yet, if it came down to it, there would be little hesitation. The darkness swallows her whole and she allows it to, almost as if she’s become a zealot of the cause with no moral compass. 

Mary was a chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team from her fourth year until her seventh. Her small stature was great for swift plays and cutting through the air quickly.

As far as aesthetics go, Mary’s would consist of the following : cold winter nights, dark waves crashing against rocks, the sound of leaves crunching beneath feet, plaid shirts wrapped around your waist, dark circles beneath eyes, dark forests and intertwining trees, wolves howling at the moon, freshly brewed tea, cauldrons and experimental potions.

Whilst at Hogwarts, Mary excelled at Potions, Ancient Runes and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Herbology and Divination were her poorest classes. She was quite studious when she wasn’t getting detention with Marlene.

[ Alcoholism tw ]  There’s a part of Mary that depends on the numbing feeling of alcohol to help her get through the day. If anything, it soothes her night terrors and helps her rest. Nights for her once consisted of sleepless hours and screaming panic, but since she’s resorted to alcohol, she’s found a certain peace.  

character parallels : jessica jones, rocket raccoon, faith lehane, faye chamberlain, gamora, rosa diaz

MCKINNON, MARLENE : HER HEART // They were hardly ever seen without one another during their years at Hogwarts. Two souls so deeply forged together that it seemed almost impossible to pry them apart. Often times mistaken as one another, the girls had a mischievous air about them that solidified them as legends throughout the Gryffindor tower. Together, it seemed as though they were infinite.  Vulnerability didn’t come easily to Mary, yet it was Marlene who consoled her after her attack, it was Marlene who’d accepted the darkness that shrouded her heart and it was Marlene who evidently abandoned her. 

OPEN CONNECTION.

OPEN CONNECTION.

#YB:intro #❝ about ― holy water cannot help you now ! #this doesn't have everything but im just gonna keep the mystery aliiiiiive

[themezzotint]

    A terribly cold and starless night; so bitter, in fact, the old draft horse's breath froze, turning to sparkling ice crystals which seemed to hang within a twinkling mist about his muzzle the moment he exhaled.  The narrow merchant road was steeped in snow and the tires of the ale-cart would skid and slip on nearly every rotation as they proceeded down the dusky corridor.

    Edark Markham drew the collar of his ragged coat closer about his neck and shivered momentarily as he lightly flicked the reins to signal his old horse to move a little quicker.  He turned, twice, in his seat to peer uneasily into the darkest shadows along the road's edge, searching the blackness until he convinced himself that the only other sound besides that of his plodding horse and creaking wagon must only be the occasional plop of snow falling from over-weighted branches. 

    "It feels as if the air is twice as cold as an hour ago!" He muttered into the lonely blackness.  "By thunder, I do b'lieve thet even a flame would freeze solid tonight..."

    He reached with a mittened hand and patted one of the barrels stacked behind him, considering how marvelously warm sipping only a few mouthfuls of the wonderful brew they contained would make him feel.  But he thought of this for only a moment, and quickly drew his hand back into a coat pocket; of how many vintners had he heard found frozen to death, cast eternally in ice, with the ridiculous smile of a drunkard upon their blue faces? He shivered again at the thought.  An ale merchant who tippled into one of his own barrels on such a night's delivery was nothing more than a bacchant disgrace.

    On he drove, mystified that a night without any wind could be so savagely frigid.  Only a true craftsman, bound sincerely to his life's art and occupation, would even set foot out of doors on such a harrowing eve; leaving his warm home and loving family to trudge to the stable, tack up his rig in knee-deep snow and make a special delivery four leagues across iced highways.  Ah, but just such an artisan and brewmaster was he, indeed! And this, no ordinary delivery.  Far from any common ale to be taken to a loud and libacious rathskeller where hackneyed farmers and field men gathered to eat and drink.  No! Seven barrels of his finest brew; Honey-Mead.  Aged and perfected over a year for a special Christmas delivery.  And on this blackest night, Christmas Eve, Edark drove his creaking ale-cart down the last section of the inky lane leading to Castle Erheim.

    He smiled, narrowly, and for a moment bitterly.  Lord Erheim had, thirty years before, ordered the close of his fathers moothouse.  If not for that decree, vein in origin, he would not now be a poorly brewer driving through the bitter black darkness.  A simple clash of wills; his father against Varnet Erheim.  An insult on a blend of wines ... returned by the insinuation of a connoisseur lacking discern and discrimination.  Harsh words.  Loud Threats.  And finally, a notice of eviction.  His father had died penniless, for no commoner may prosper for besmirching the taste of a nobleman. 

    He shook his head, regretfully.  Through the snow-capped trees he made out the yellow-orange windows of the large manor in the distance.  The Erheims gathered together and feasted, jovially, tonight in their warm, stone hall. 

    His labors had taken him twenty years; the better part of his life to bring back the honor to his own family name.  But for his intense efforts, endless nights of brewing and kettling, and keen wariness to never speak afoul of any aristocrat, Edark Markham had gained notable renown as an aleman.  His grogery was comfortably successful, and his life mainly happy.  He took this night's delivery as a token of his own achievement, a sign he had become a master of his art.  His only thought of his long dead father was the man, sadly, had never reached such a point of personal contentment.

    Upon reaching the steep drive which lead up the hill to Castle Erheim, his draft horse snorted out a message of complaint.

    "Easy old man," Edark said, "Our work is nearly done."

    A quarter of an hour later, as the moon broke out of the heavy, black clouds and illuminated the pale, snow covered fields, Edark leapt stiffly from his wooden seat and waved to the valet at the great door to the chateau.  Half a dozen butlers issued forth and helped him carry the sloshing barrels of liquor inside.

    Edark unbuttoned his coat and sighed at the touch of the warm air.  Several more servants came and he followed them as they took the barrels down a well lighted passage towards a large chamber where the flickering light of flames, sounds of laughter and chords of carols poured out along with the tantalizing smell of roasted poultry and smoked venison.  Inside he glanced across a roomful of gaily dressed revelers.  Children, young lads and lasses and a dozen old men assembled on this holiday eve.  Most were gathered round a long table heaped with meats, fruits and pastries.  A large hearth crackled with leaping flames at the end of the room, and sleeping without a care before the iron grate were two large hounds.

    The workboys rolled the barrels beside the great table, and one of the older men, the oldest man, called loudly for Edark to join him beside his plate.  Edark came about and was seated in a large, oaken chair next to the old Lord.  He was given a full plate by one of the maids and honored by the first toast with his very own mead.

    Old Varnet Erheim spoke loudly, slurring his words and Edark recognized the Lord was already more than a little drunk, he must have been raising his elbow for some time, judging by his fuddled appearance.

    "To the regions best grogger ... hic ... a master, as I am told ..."

    With this the old man drained half the mead from his crystal bumper and all were silent, waiting for his next word.

    "Indeed!" he said with a grin, "A true artist with the spirits! Who will refill my cup?"

    Edark smiled, himself, partially with gratitude, partially in relief, and swallowed a mouthful of his sweet, hearty, Honeymead.  This was surely the best he had ever brewed! The taste carried the great purity of lavender honey, yet hinted, subtly, a touch of wild elderberries.  He swirled the liquid gently within its crystal tumbler, holding it up to the bright glow of the fire and admired the golden liquid which seemed to have a light mist floating within; Ah! The traditional mystique of Antipodal Mead; his families ancient recipe!

    He ate and drank beside his robust and red-faced host, frowning a little at how quickly, and somewhat carelessly, his wonderful honey wine was being downed by the celebrating family.  Mead, he thought, was to be savored for the ambrosia it was; not tossed down the gullet like a commonplace wine! But he was also gladdened by the thought of the payment forthcoming, and how he would ride home with a full purse ... Ah alas! And oh well! To their health!  He thought and downed his cup.

    He felt his own face begin to glow, and settled quietly back in his large chair and listened with half an ear to the conversation about him.

    "Yes, but a tax any higher and my tenants will certainly repress their true profits from me, I am at an impasse!" (A middle-aged nobleman to his left)

    "Fool you are, and will always be, boy!" (The old lord) "Do you honestly suppose they do not behave thusly now? Consistency and intimidation ... Fear and will! Aye! That is the way!"

    "Uncle is the master of discipline, my cousin ..." (Gentleman across the table) "His word is law!"

    The crowd laughed in hollow unison and Edark began to think more and more of getting home to his own wife and family.  He was weighing out the different hints he could use to ask for payment when, suddenly, at his side the old Lord lurched out of his chair and began to behave in the strangest and most curious manner; leaping about-throwing his arms violently before him as if to repel an unseen attacker,

    "Auugh! Get away! Get awaaay!"

    Several cousins leapt from their seats to try and assist the old man, shouting, "What see you, old fellow?" and, "Settle, sir! Settle!" or, "He has made one too many toasts!"

    Lord Erheim sputtered and coughed and backed himself away from the group.

    "No, there be daemons!" said another, his face aghast, "See how they crawl down the walls!"

    In a matter of heartbeats and seconds the entire throng was up and screaming about the chamber.  The children, terrified by their parent's behavior, dashed out of the hall.  The hounds bayed madly, howling until the room echoed with their cries.

    "What chicanery is this?" thundered the old Lord, pointing a pudgy finger at Edark, "Witchery and devil's magic!" he roared.  He made to advance, and Edark rose, toppling his chair.  He could see no daemons or spirits, the family had gone mad! The angry face of Lord Varnet Erheim was beguiled with rage, veins protruded from his forehead, his eyes were those of a man possessed, and he ambled forth, closing in on the bewildered brewer.  Then, with a loathful cry, the old lord fell to his knees, covering his eyes with his hands, weeping like a deranged and terrified child.

    "Your sire! Your father ..." he blubbered.

    And Edark Markham scrambled for the door, dodging all of the slavering and shrieking noblemen as best he could, leaving them gesticulating and seizing in their paroxysms of madness, turning back only once for a last look into the room of lunatics.  Was it not a group of leering black shadows he had seen, swimming, hazily through the air, encircling the cowering people with their grey, vaporous bodies? Had he not glimpsed one red-eyed creature towering within smoking firelight at the center of the chamber, laughing, menacingly at its doomed prey?

    "Nae! Nae!" he murmured over and over as he hunched down in his jostling wagon all the way home through the moon-lit Christmas Night.

    It was often remarked, from that time on, how truly marvelous it was that Edark Markham's wines and ales could be so startlingly exquisite in taste and astounding in quality, yet the master ... never drank.  Marvelous, indeed, yet not quite as noted as his rare, and legendary Christmas Mead.   

#mead #christmas #ghost #ghoststory

[underbananamoon]

I tried on a few Halloween masks at a store.

I don’t have a single picture of me in costume as a child. Rolls of film cost money then and we chose carefully what to take pictures of. But I did find this memorable costume which I actually wore. The Princess with the butter-yellow hair and even then I wondered as to why ‘princess’ was never dark haired like me.

Costumes then came in boxes.

I also remember being this guy one year (glow in the dark, no less):

Back then. pop culture was not tied into everything. A skull and a princess are fairly generic, kids used to be ‘bums,’ cowboys, ghosts… Nowadays, scads of things that’ll sit dusty as collectibles or end up in landfills, are made long before movies or cartoons come out- everything from toothbrushes bearing the image of the character… to toys, clothes, figures and Halloween costumes. I will never apologize or feel ‘less than’ for not being ‘up’ on pop culture. If it doesn’t interest me, I’m not going to ‘follow the crowd.’ Well… that’s not entirely true… I remember as a child, at least for a brief awkward tween while, thinking if I did a culturally accepted thing, then I would fit in. As normal. Imagine that kind of thinking? Ha!

I remember this in particular: trying to create mischief on Halloween Eve, when I was in grade school, perhaps about 11 years old. This is the only picture I could locate of me at that age, right after my unruly horse mane hair was chopped and shaped.

The night of shenanigans went something like this: My friend and I decided to walk downtown at dusk under the ruse of telling our parents we were getting a pizza. It only cost $5.00 for a small circle of pizza so splitting the difference between us was doable. We skipped the pizza this time though because we had other business to attend to. Or… we tried anyway. I took a few eggs from my fridge and my friend swiped a few from hers.  We put them in our hooded sweatshirt pockets and started off on our adventure, with a stop in the cemetery as was our usual route.

The first time we went into the cemetery we were perplexed and saddened when we did the math on many of the birth and death dates. There were so many babies and toddlers buried there, with their tombstones of lamb and cherub images. We were young enough to be unaware of the widespread influenza and smallpox epidemics in the 1800s and also young enough to be naive about mortality. In a word, finding so many of these graves was: shocking.

There was an area over the far bank, where “old” flowers were dumped. These were flowers, apparently wilted and almost dead, that had been cleared from graves and dumped here. There were many faded bouquets of plastic flowers too for some reason. We collected them in bunches and put them on the children’s graves. Then off we went. It was Mischief Night and were ready to partake.

We had a target house in mind and planned on throwing a few eggs at the cellar door where we figured it would be fairly easy for the house owners to clean up the next day. (Here is my best recollection, my book has a more detailed account because it was written directly from diaries). What rebels we were. My friend reached into her pocket and pulled out an egg. Her first throw was way off mark. Nowhere near the house. My turn, I no sooner pulled an egg out, than I dropped it, right on my sneaker. Mind you, I wasn’t an egg eater, still don’t eat them, (not with a fox, not in a box) so that was pretty disgusting for me. Her turn.

She reached into her other jacket pocket for her last egg when she called out “Ew! My egg broke in my pocket!” I was on my last egg. Better make it count.

I did not make it count. My egg went somewhere into some bushes or something.

A bit discouraged that our mischief had failed, we cut through the back lot of our old brick school, which was no longer a school and not yet the office buildings it would eventually become. The former school had originally been built in the 1800s and now stood empty, in limbo. We had the idea to try one of the doors. It was unlocked. We didn’t dare turn on a light until we got into the “lavatory.” I wanted to check out the old bathroom with the long rows of hunter green stall doors. And I found what I was looking for on one of the walls. A few years before, when I’d been a student there, I’d scratched the word “poop” into the paint. This was my idea of flipping off authority. I told you I was a rebel-rouser. Of course I’d thought “poop” was spelled “poup,” like the word soup… When I found out the correct spelling, I corrected the “u” to form an “o.” Once a pedant, always a pedant.

We flipped off the light and went quietly up the stairs to a classroom, which, like all the others, had a cloakroom with hooks for coats which was behind a wall of the room, with an opening on either end to enter. In the cloakroom was also a kitty corner art supply closet that I remembered as smelling blissful. The “cloakroom,” was really a narrow dark hall of sorts, behind a wall, where we would dump boots and coats, with an entrance on both sides. We went inside it when we heard what we deduced must be the night watchman. He must’ve heard us and was checking the place out for intruders. I pictured my self in the striped attire of the cartoon felon in my mind’s eye.

We closed our eyes tightly and breathed quietly, remaining perfectly still in the shadows, huddled into one another. I dared open an eye as we cowered in the dark cloakroom, and made out the flickers of a flashlight beam from the classroom, devoid of desks of course. It had the familiar radiators under the tall windows, a fire escape door, and shining wood floors that we could hear the man treading on, with surprisingly loud echos.

We heard him walking around a bit, some keys jingling, and after he’d switched off the light and departed, we came out of hiding and proceeded to quietly go downstairs and leave the school. We felt ourselves lucky he had not gone into our hiding place. We’d gone into the school at least 5 times before, (scratching a mark in the bathroom stall to indicate how many times we’d gone in after dark, right next to the poop word.) and every time we’d not been caught. But it was time to make a hasty retreat. It had been close this time. As our hands reached the long bar to push open the door to outside, there were hands on our shoulders and a voice “Stop right here!”

My first reaction was to recoil from touch, as I had had many “Me Too” ‘events’ by this time, but then the dread set in:

Uh-oh. I was going to Sing-Sing.

He proceeded to tell us that “young girls did not need to be doing things like this” and to my surprise he gave us a warning not to ever go in the building again, and he let us go. A quick glance at his face revealed to me something surprising. I couldn’t help but think he looked ‘relieved.’ I had the notion then, that he’d thought the school was haunted all these times he’d heard noises, and having caught us this time, he was relieved it wasn’t! We never ‘broke in’ again.

We ran giggling into a wooded area behind the school. The egg throwing had failed but we had managed to make mischief. What hell-raisers we were. It had rained earlier that day and to our surprise, the area was full of small hopping toads. We decided to put a few in our pockets to play with at home. Halfway home, we decided to take out a toad or two and study them. It became apparent they were peeing. We removed the toads one by one from our pockets and every one peed on our hands. We let them go in the cemetery.

Nowadays, “mischief” takes on far different meanings than it did then. It’s like every day is “Mischief” night, (that’s putting it lightly) all over the world somewhere and each person takes it up a notch. The reality of what this world has become, is scarier than anything I could ever have imagined.

These days, I’m content to leave the light off on Halloween. It’s not that I’m a curmudgeon, or “too cheap to buy candy,” or a Halloween-hater. None of the above. In fact my family walks right in with their little ones; and I am glad to see them. They know that having the light off does not apply to them. I am just at the age, I suppose, when the disruption of the incessant doorbell (which sets off my dog to being startled and barking) is just too much and not partaking is what is kindest for me.  I’ve been playing around with SnapChat. Here are a few favorites:

This is my favorite, and those are my real glasses, for the indecisive,, each lens a different shape.

These pictures are from Autumn walks. It is important to capture this type of New England beauty as the color is a short time and how easy to forget the vibrancy or worse, to take it for granted. Every season in New England brings something to wonder at. Lots of walks before it is too cold for me.

But back to Halloween, here are some images (Snapchat, Edits) of my beloved cat. Recent documentation I’ve found puts his age at 17 not 19 as I’d thought. He has stopped the seizures and still purrs.

Anyway, I hope Halloween is safe and fun for kids and adults alike, in whatever way one chooses to partake, or not partake.

Kimberly Gerry-Tucker, author of under the banana moon text link

https://www.amazon.com/Under-Banana-Moon-Living-Aspergers/dp/150572886X

  Halloween Shenanigans I tried on a few Halloween masks at a store. I don't have a single picture of me in costume as a child.

#autism #halloween #life

[toldumpurple]

by crazychase

Celebrating the Soon to be completion of my novel! Here are the First Two Chapters! Enjoy and Look forward to Seeing A Kickstarter For first publishing and Editing! It will have some pretty cool rewards to go with it!

Prologue

The Date is 7165 AD or it would be if AD/BC was used anymore.

Welcome to the capital of the Global Peace and Science Treat Organisation aka GPSTO, Kondinumim, or Kondi as locals like to call it. Ever since the GPSTO took over the planet 1220 years ago the scientific development of the world has been strictly limited and monitored. The organisation’s eyes and ears were everywhere. Their enforcers are as strict as they are brutal and did not show leniency on even the smallest of offences toward the endless rules imposed by the GPSTO. The True Date according to the new system is 1221 GSR Imposed by the GPSTO standing for the date since their Global Scientific Reform.

The Global Scientific reform was a brutal era not unlike the records of the WW2 Holocaust where the organisation set up “re-education camps” sending almost 30 percent of the population being sent and never to be heard of again. The rest of the population was put under a dictatorship like reign of this faceless organisation under the premise of global peace. The Surviving population have silicon biotags that are needed for the simplest of tasks like walking down the street for exercise. These are known as Bio-Silicon Personal ID Pass, the SPIP. Even with all this security and force however there still is and always will be the Black market and shady dealers exploiting the system and evading the authorities.

After all… This is Human nature.

Five Years ago a mysterious Research publication by an unknown writer appeared on an open source mechanical engineering website. It was only online for 2 hours before the paper and the company vanished entirely without a trace. The paper has sparked a widespread urban myth about its existence though word of mouth as any mention of it within the network disappears. The Contents of the paper? The Complete mapped out pathways of the human brain, the theory of creating artificial consciousness, and how to replicate the human brain using bio-silicon and optic fibre components. One last copy of the paper remains. Printed and held by a young Mechanical engineer called Zeke Crassus who has every intention to try out the design.

Chapter 1: Sweet Beginnings

*CLICK*

An old video camera whirred to life and begins to record a young man in his mid-twenties sitting on an old metal stool in an engineering workshop. His hair messy but off his face almost teased up, face dirty from work in the garage. His bright green eyes highlighted by the deep blue work outfit he was wearing.

He takes a deep breath and starts to speak.

“Hi my Name Is Zeke Crassus, 26, mechanical engineer. For the last year I have been working on and fabricating parts for project Eden.

So here is the quick rundown on progress so far.

The torso head and first part of the limbs have been constructed and assembled using a special non- magnetic titanium alloy composite covered in porcelain to make the endoskeleton. The porcelain surface allows the attachment of the synthetic muscles by my design using glues and resins strong and flexible enough to prevent it from tearing away from the endoskeleton while generating enough force to move quicker than biological humans. Since any Idea of this concept or RND is considered Illegal by the GPSTO it is essential that by all regards that the finished product will appear to any one undergoing tests that project Eden is indeed human. Of course some alterations will have to be made so biological test will be evaded but this will not be too hard to overcome with the utilisation of a few medical advancements. For power GPSTO’s new eco power generation technology is going to be used which utilises Bacterial Symbiosis to break down food into electrical energy. This will create a more human feel allowing it to eat as a human would and go undetected. Specifically simple sugars will be needed to generate power and so biofilm coated silicon pouches that will excrete substance similar to salvia in humans accepting a larger range in diet.”

Zeke Pauses and rubs his eyes for a moment displaying signs of fatigue. He stands up beginning to pace as he continues his description of the project.

“However I digress as I have talked about a lot of this on a prior video diary. The Artificial brain is constructed as the paper specified but I am yet to get a response to show it is operational. Utilising the synthetic silicon heart technology from the medical field as a hydraulic pump I have managed to get the synaptic fluid to flow as intended relocating energy to the power generation areas and resupplying and supporting the symbionts according to isolated test results. The Muscle structure and silicon polymer skin has successfully mimicked natural form and project finally looks humanoid and not like some ancient sci-fi villain. Face and eyes have been fitted and the project has taken on a cute appearance which was an unintentional result. If the project identifies as male I may have to alter face structure and eye colour as purple would not come across as a male’s choice within the designer eye community. A Silicon keratin polymer has been created as hair which looks and feels like real hair however I have not figured out how to change its colour from silver yet. A test will be performed to see if a Dye can be used on the fibres as they are porous. Finally the project has had internet protocols enabled allowing downloading language and behavioural parameters after I enable the voice protocols from the workshops secure intranet.”

Zeke lets out a large sigh walking toward a large surgical style work bench and removes the sheet form the project.

There lay a humanoid figure with only a head, upper arms and thighs attached to the torso The Synthetic muscle was exposed on the entirety of the body with the exception of the face where the silicon skin was attached covering the multitude of small synthetic muscles needed for complex face movement

Zeke looks over the frame silently for a moment.

He begins to think to himself, “It’s Incredible that I have manage to build this much so far and avoid arousing suspicion or be caught yet,’ as he ponders whether it is fine for him to continue to the next stage of the experiment. In an attempt to motivate himself he states out loud as he flicks the power up switch to on, “It’s too late now to back away! You must finish this beautiful thing, Zeke!”

The project sits up and looks around the room from its position on the bench.

“Good”, Zeke stated, “at least we haven’t gone backwards from the last 93 tests.”

He starts to walk toward a laptop station connected to the power equipment thinking out loud, “Now just to activate voice and download the protocols from the intranet to see if that brain has started up yet.”

As he approaches the computer a sweet musical voice calls out from behind him, “Hey Zeke, you don’t have to do that.”

Frightened at the sudden voice Zeke Panics and spins around looking for the source of the mysterious voice calling out, “Who is there? How did you get into my show?! It’s after hours and we are closed!”

The mysterious voice pipes up again and says, “but I have always been here… you are the one who put me here and I cannot move for myself properly yet!”

Zeke dumbfounded and shocked looks toward the bench to see the project with a quizzical look on its face.

“Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-you can talk?!” Zeke stammered out. “But I haven’t activated any of your systems! How is this possible?! None of my other tests worked or even got a response!” Zeke exclaimed both shocked and excited.

“Well, I can turn on my own systems thank you but as for why I am talking now and not before…” project Eden stated trailing off then with a bashful full tone said, “I guess this is the first time you called me beautiful.”

Dumbfounded, Zeke froze mouth gaped.

“You mean you made me believe that you were defective 93 times just because I hadn’t complimented you yet?!” Zeke Exclaimed frustrated

“Please don’t yell at me”, Project Eden Said as it cowered as if waiting to be hit,” I just thought you were mad cause you always used rude words when working on me and well…”

“Well what is it?” Zeke inquired.

“Well, I thought if I talked you would stop spending so much time with me and I was lonely.” Project Eden said embarrassed.

Zeke let out a large sigh regaining his composure and warming up to this new development.

He moves closer to the bench turning off the still recording camera and grabbing his metal stool and approached the bench where project Eden was still sitting looking quite worried.

“So, look.” Zeke started as he sat down on the stool looking up at the cute worried face and stunning purple eyes, “I am sorry about all that, you surprised me and I didn’t know you were conscious, could hear me, or even were working at all. I was frustrated. Will you forgive me?” Zeke asked apologetically. While thinking, “I cannot believe I am apologising to my experiment!”

“Well you are forgiven”, Project Eden replied, ‘ Oh, and before I go back to sleep because I am fatigued, you can go ahead and finish putting me together as it is improper to leave a girl like this, I think I better introduce myself!”

“W-W-W-What?!” Zeke exclaimed, “Your name is Eden like Adam and Eve Eden! Cause you could have been male or fem…”

“God No!” She stated loudly cutting him off, “That is a horrible name! Where the hell did you get that from? You may be a genius but you are terrible with names!”

“WELL…. what shall you have me call you ‘The Mighty naming Princess of names’?!” Zeke replies with all the sass he can muster.

She lets out a cute and sweet toned giggle, turns toward him to look directly into his eyes and pulling the biggest smile Zeke had ever seen and proceeds to introduce herself.

“My name will be Arinel Rose and for when we are alone you can call me Ari!”

Zeke just sits there speechless at the sight that just befell him. His creation telling him off, showing varied emotions and even deciding on her own name and gender without any of his input codes.

“Good night Zeke, I look forward to getting my hair and the rest of my body assembled too, so I can move around and spend more time with you. It was lovely to finally start talking to you! I have been quite lonely.” Arinel states as she begins to lay down and take on the appearance of going to sleep.

Zeke replies as he begins to turn off all the equipment except Arinel’s maintenance power, “It was lovely to talk to you, the pleasure was all mine….

Ari….”

Chapter 2: In all the Time Gone By

Two weeks has passed since the day that Zeke spoke to Arinel. In those days Zeke never left his workshop, eating and sleeping within the shop to spend every waking minute that he was not doing commission work getting Arinel to completion. He had prepared a hospital gown for her feeling bad that she was unclothed and probably conscious. Once touch and heat sense was connected to the artificial skin he also got an extra pillow for her wondering if she was uncomfortable and every day he would talk to her about what he was doing, about himself, and the city that they live in. Arinel, unfortunately due to lack of operational power did not or could not reply to Zeke’s conversations.

In spite of this Zeke found that talking to this pretty and peaceful face laying on his bench very soothing. He found himself watching his language around her with the knowledge from his last conversation with her that she can more than likely hear him. Zeke found himself smiling more and more than he had in a long time while working to complete this cute, bright and bubbly mystery that he had found.

Today is August 13th of the Year 1221 GSR and in spite of all the exciting things that has happened to him over the last few weeks Zeke was very melancholy. He sat on his metal stool in his workshop unwilling to move, listening to the hum of the BIO Works Sili-synth generating Arinel’s synthetic skin over the sensory frame. Zeke realised that he should be fine tuning Arinel’s muscle microcomputers in her outer limbs or tweaking the heat/touch sensory system however he could not help but to just sit there silently staring at the plain concrete floor unable to move. He lifts his head and looks around his workshop from his stool and has a sudden feeling of emptiness. There are no voices, No people, and no one to be there for him. Zeke was alone. He was always alone.

It has been this way for him for the last five years.

Zeke turns his gaze to the almost complete Arinel laying on the bench looking at the peaceful and pleasant expression that she always has on that cute face now adorned by her pure silver hair.

“Ari…” Zeke manages to blurt in a squeaky and broken voice as if trying to clear his throat, Hold back tears and talk at the same time.

“I want to tell you a story…. A story that no one has heard roll from my lips because I have no one to tell. This Story is from 5 years ago.” Zeke said as he pulled his stool closer to the Bench that Arinel lay.

“I know you cannot respond and tell me to stop due to currently lack of power to initialise your voice function systems but I am going to need to tell you anyway because this is important to me and this day to this memory.” Zeke trailed off pausing for a moment as if waiting for her to respond before taking a deep breath in and out before continuing to speak.

“You see this place used to be a lot more lively than it is now… three times as much to be exact.” Zeke let out a large sigh and attempted to quickly stretch his back.”

“Five years ago I used to have a mother and father who ran this place and built it from the ground up. Dad was a doctor and specialised fixing people’s bodies with science and medicine while mum was the engineer who took on all the problems that dad could not handle or fix entirely like missing limbs and deformity correction. They were the perfect team and the city loved them. It wasn’t long before they had this place and all the equipment payed off. I have left out one important member of this team that came a bit later. My little sister, Anastasia Isabell Crassus… My adorable, ‘Stasha’… I adored her and the world has never seen or probably ever will see a Bio-silicon Skin Designer. In the skin being constructed for you was her last ‘gift’ to me if you could call it a gift. I found the design it on my desk under all the paperwork 4 years ago with a note saying, ‘I think this is my best yet! You cannot tell it apart from real Skin! Love you Big Bro!’ I almost threw it away but decided to keep it instead. I didn’t have any interest in the shop before this day five years ago, I just wanted to go out into the city and find more classic shows to add to my collection from the ancient times. I wanted to be a historian back then and have nothing to do with the shop, medicine, or bio-engineering at all but they made me help out at the shop anyway and I was good at it. I hated it, all I wanted to do was leave and get away from everyone and everything but looking back that time spent with them, is the best memories that I have.”

Zeke Paused and stood up stretching again and begun to pace around the shop.

“We made synthetic muscles, Limbs and even organs to assist anyone who may walk through the doors of the building or submit a request or problems. We constantly pushed the boundaries of the field into the future benefiting everyone with the technology we created in this very room. Mum and Dad’s revolutionary designs went out into the community and medical fields saving thousands of lives.”

“Or they used to …” Zeke said stopping abruptly in the middle of the room and proceeds to sit on the workshop’s concrete floor.

“You see, Ari… on this day five years ago,” Zeke’s voice began to crack and break as he spoke and he put his face in his hands, “They died, leaving me all along without a single word of goodbye. That morning I woke up to an empty shop. No Cute and bubbly little sister. No kind and caring Mother. No Honest and hardworking Father. I thought that they must have gone shopping for some parts but usually they could just use the ordering service and not have to leave the shop. I stupidly did not even question it or wonder why they had left. I wish that they had woke me before they left even if it was to hear the words ‘I Love you, big brother’ or ‘I love you, son’ come from my little sister or mother’s lips for one last time.”

Zeke paused for a moment from his monologue and stared at the ceiling before moving back to his stool next to Arinel as if he could not get comfortable.

“Then later that day just when I was starting to wonder why they were still out… I-I-I got a call. It was the authorities from the lower districts. They had discovered a body and they wanted me to come down. In our work that happened a lot to identify people by the alterations done to them such as artificial legs or eyes so I was not prepared for what I found when I arrived. My dear little sister and mother…”

Zeke stopped unable to continue and wept for a short time.

Once Zeke had regained some composure he began again, “It was my Dear little sister and mother. Broken. Dismembered. Partially burned beyond recognition and shot in several places each… I threw up at the site and to this day the thought of it makes me want to vomit. There are nights I still cannot sleep from seeing their faces burned into my mind. “

Zeke took a deep breath and realised he was trembling. He took a few more deep breaths in order to calm himself and then continued.

“The authorities instead of letting me adjust slapped handcuffs on me and lead me away to a questioning room where they questioned me in a way that made it sound that they believed I was the obvious culprit. The Best I could do was tell them the truth of what I knew between tears. They asked me about my father and if I hid the body. Once they realised and confirmed that I was home all day they told me that they found enough blood belonging to my father at the scene to indicate that he would be dead and were expecting the his body to turn up. It never did. To this day I do not know what became of my father. Ever since then I have worked to keep this store open and working in order to keep their memory alive. I kept the doors locked and shut, only taking orders through the ordering service. I don’t even know if the doors even open anymore and yours was the first voice I have heard since then.”

*DING* a machine chimed within the room startling Zeke lost within his own story.

Caught off guard by the sound he jumped from his seat looking to see where the sound came from, to realise the skin-synth had sounded and was complete ready to attach.

“Well that is perfect timing”, Zeke muttered, “I had just finished my tale anyway. Time to apply the rest of your skin, Arinel.” As he finished saying her name he glanced at her face to see the glistening surface of tears flowing from her closed eyes and a sorrowful expression twisted onto her face.

Zeke feeling surprised and upset with himself then spoke a deep apology saying, “Arinel, I am so sorry for making you listen to that. When I get your skin on, I will power you up again with the main generator so I can apologise properly so please wait till then.”

Zeke retrieves the skin from the Sili-Synth and applies it to her frame connecting all the heat and touch sensors carefully to the micro receptor frames built into the new skin and adds the gel based filler to provide shape, and create a natural body look and feel. Lastly he grabs the hospital gown that he had removed to apply the skin to cover her naked body then flicks the main power switch to the main power generator causing it to whir to life. Arinel’s eyes snap open immediately. She suddenly sits up and swings her arm slapping Zeke square in the face with the palm of her hand.

“ZEKE YOU IDIOT!” She yells at him visibly upset and cheeks still wet with tears. “You do not need to apologise for sharing your heartache with me!”

Zeke lowered his head ashamed. Suddenly he feels arm reach around him quickly and gets pulled in close softly.

“I was Sad you see, Zeke.” Spoke Arinel in her sweet soothing voice, “I was sad because you have been suffering all this time and I was not able to hug you and tell you it will be ok now and that you can rely on me from now on, ok?”

Zeke Nodded softly. He stood there still for a moment before attempting to pull away from the grip that has seized him unsure how to react but as he does Arinel pull him closer. Zeke surrenders into Arinel’s embrace and slides his arms around her as well pulling her closer into his chest. As he does he realises that she feels warm and soft and cannot help but ignore that just a bit earlier in the day she looked and felt like any of his machines and models within the shop but now she felt like any girl you would meet on the street.

She was beautiful, Cute, Warm, Soft, and comforting and while he held her he felt so comforted that he wished he could stay like this forever.

After a minute or so Arinel spoke up again, “So are you feeling a little better yet, Zeke? I don’t wanna see that sad look on your face again.” Zeke and Arinel separate from their embrace. He stares into Arinel’s glistening purple eyes and says to her,” As long as I never have to see you cry like that again.”

Arinel pulls a big smile wipes the remainder of her tears from her face with the sleeve of her gown.

“Of Course Zeke! Let’s do our best ok?” She says with a shining smile.

Zeke replies with the biggest smile he can muster and says, “Yes, Let’s.”

“I am glad you finally connected and turned the generator on so we could talk together again!” Arinel Said Joyfully. “Although I enjoyed listening to you talk to me every day and all the time you spent with me. It has been lovely hearing you talk to me even though I could not respond. You need to solve this power issue soon…”

“Oh!” Zeke Exclaimed remembering something, “that’s right to start generating power you need to start eating to get the power systems operational!”

“WHAT!” Arinel replied shocked, “You mean I could have just been eating the last few weeks and we would have been able to talk properly?!”

“Well…” Zeke trailed off, “I guess you could have but I hadn’t initialised any of the systems for tha…”

“DONE!” Arinel Chirped happily cutting him off.

“Ah… ok…” Zeke replied in a questioning tone then continued, “Just wait here a second.”

Zeke quickly jogs to his desk, opens a drawer and retrieves something from one of its trays before returning.

“This is a chocolate power bar, eat this and tomorrow you should have no problems getting around without a generator.” Zeke Explains handing her the packaged bar.

Arinel takes the bar, removing the brightly coloured packaging and begins to eat the contents.

Her Eyes Light up upon the first bite and with a half full mouth she call out, “Zeke! This is delicious! I love it!”

Zeke lets out a hearty laugh and responds saying, “I had a feeling you would like it!”

Suddenly feelings overly tired Zeke then comments,” Ari, I am going to leave the power generator on tonight so all your power systems initialise correctly but I have been up for 48 hours straight making sure your legs and arms would work properly so I am going to try get some rest…”

“Ok sleep well, Zeke!��� Arinel pipes, “I will try to rest too so I can spend more time with you tomorrow!”

Well see you then…. Ari,” Zeke said walking toward the living quarters.

“See you then, Zeke! I look forward to it!” Arinel Calls out excitedly as he walks away.

*The Next Morning*

Zeke walks out of his sleeping quarters into the garage in a sleepy daze. He lets out a large yawn as he stretches.

“Morning Zeke!” a happy voice calls out.

Zeke rubs his eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of his eyes so he can focus his eyes on the source of the voice. Once his eyes adjust to the bright morning light piercing through the sky lights he sees Arinel on the concrete floor to the shop in a w-sitting position with several dozen empty power bar wrappers strewn around her, remnants of chocolate smeared on her face and her silver hair sparkling in the morning light appearing almost amber I some parts.

Zeke was momentarily stunned by the oddly cute scene playing before his eyes.

“Uh… Good morning, Arinel. How are you feeling?” Zeke enquired.

“Zeke’s Girlfriend, Ari-Chan, Feeling better than ever!” Arinel calls out throwing her right arm into the air causing a power bar wrapper to get caught in the gust and float around like confetti.

Zeke Falls over shocked at what he just heard, “W-w-w-w-w-w-w-what are you talking about Arinel?! I don’t have a girlfriend!” Zeke Calls out embarrassed.

Arinel pulls a cute and soft grin at Zeke and states to him with a sweet tone, “Good, Well you do now!”

Zeke Sits up from his position on the floor, crosses his legs and begins to rub his eyes. “What the hell have I gotten myself into…” he thinks quietly to himself.

“Zeke, I want another chocolate bar! Can I have one? There is no more in the drawer…” Arinel asks sweetly tilting her head to the side as she asks.

Zeke mutters to himself as he attempts to get up, “It’s way too early for this… I need coffee…”

#The Crazy Chase #My novel #Synthetic Soul #Chapters 1 and 2 #Arinel Rose #Zeke Crassus #long post