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hazbbyhaz · 3 years

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sleepless || harry styles

twenty four

pairing: Harry Styles x OC

synopsis: the party cleanup

disclaimer: mentions of selfharm, mentions of scars

just remember that sometimes, the way you think about a person isn’t the way they actually are - John Green

At 3am the party had finally started to die down, people slowly funneling their way out. And by 3:30, All the guests were gone, leaving Avery, Harry, and Francis. Avery was on her fourth cup of coffee, the caffeine keeping her awake enough to not pass out on the couch. Everyone was sitting in the living room, strewn around the space. All of them winding down from the energy that the party created. It was silent. Serene. Comforting, in a way.

Harry was the first to move, starting to pick up the mess that swept the entire flat. Avery and Francis joined him soon after. They collected all the cups and plates that were scattered about, bringing all of them to the kitchen. Francis washed the dishes, Avery dried and put them away, and Harry made several trips around the apartment to collect all the trash.

Avery was lost in her own world, taking her time in drying the dishes and figuring out where they were kept. A tap on her shoulder had broken her from her trance. When she looked back, she saw Francis with a big soapy beard on his face. His jaw was completely covered in bubbles.

“How do I look, Avery?”

“Absolutely fabulous, if I do say so myself.” They were giggling like children, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

The laughter had Harry making his way to the source, and the sight in front of him had him laughing too. It was nice seeing Avery and Francis smiling and laughing. It was something that he hadn’t seen in a while, mainly from his friend. Maybe this party really was what he needed. Maybe this was a fresh start.

“Alright Old Saint Nick, let's get the kitchen cleaned up, after that we are finished till the morning.”

Harry chuckled, throwing a towel to Francis, and after he wiped his face clean, they continued. The rest of the dishes were washed and put away, the counters were wiped down, and the floors were swept. Avery had the cake she made in her hands, about to put it in the fridge, before she heard someone protest.

“Nope. You're not putting that masterpiece away until you try a piece.”

Francis hastily took it out of her hands, grabbed a paper plate, and cut a small slice out of the cake. He just about shoved it into her hands, not taking his eyes off of her until she took a bite. "It's very sugary," She said, grimacing as she swallows her first bite. "I think I need to cut down on that the next time"

"I think it’s great," Francis shrugs, getting a new fork to take a bite from her piece. "I mean, considering this is one of your first cakes, this is amazing."

"Thank you." After tasting the cake herself, Avery doubted that he was telling the truth. It was awful. "Harry, you try a bite" She holds the fork out to Harry and he doesn't even take the utensil from her, but eats it straight from the fork. The silly action instantly made her blush, All the heat rushing to her face and making it beet red. But the redness of her cheeks quickly vanishes as Harry loudly coughs, and nearly downs a whole glass of water after swallowing the small bite of cake.

"I'm sorry, Ave, but..." He takes a breath. "that is revolting. Francis, how are you just eating that?" Avery giggles, looking over at Francis, who has almost finished her piece.

"I can feel the cavities forming in my teeth..." He takes another sip off his water.

"I like it." Francis concludes with a shrug. "Anyways, Avery, are you staying here or should we take you home? I can play my charm and convince Mrs Sheffield to give us her car keys."

"It's 4am," Harry frowns.

“Trust me, she loves me!"

They keep bantering back and forth while Avery contemplates if she should stay or go. She had been with Harry for a majority of the weekend, rarely leaving his side. She didn’t want to overwhelm him. Didn’t want him to get tired of her presence or feel like she was clinging to him. "You can stay, Ave. It's no problem." Harry says, bringing her back into reality with his green eyes looking into her own.

"I don't want to bother you guys"

"You're not bothering anyone. Stay. I can walk you home after breakfast"

Her gaze moves over to Francis, who was putting the cake back into its container. She was looking for him to protest, for him to say that he didn’t want her there. But he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, so she nods. "Alright, just til after breakfast."

Harry breaks into a smile and Francis puts the dessert in the fridge, slowly closing the door. "Great, now that this has been discussed, I am going to bed." Francis said goodnight to the two before vanishing in his bedroom. Avery noticed how Harry's eyes stayed fixed on his friends door for a moment.

"He likes you." Harry then says, turning back to her with a gleaming smile.

"I'm glad"

He walks over to her, leaning against the kitchen counter. "When do you go back to work?"

"Tomorrow."

"You're going to be tired."

"I'll be fine." She murmurs. In the dim kitchen light, Harry can see the three freckles on her nose, and the different shades of blue in her eyes. There had been numerous times where he’d thought about kissing Avery. More than he would like to admit. So many times where he wanted to sweep the loose strand of hair behind her ear, cup her cheek, and put his lips onto her own. He believed that, maybe, her pain would leave after he kissed her. He knew that it was stupid. That it was impossible. That something that mundane could ever fix the pain that she had felt.

So, out of all these times, he picked this one. He picked this time because he was tired. He picked this time because he still had some liquid courage coursing through his veins. He picked this time because she looked just… so unbearably sad. Even though he knew she had a great time that night, there was this underlying look to her. Even at her happiest, she always looked to be sad. Like she was in a great world of pain. Always.

He slowly leaned closer, his gaze fixed on hers. She didn't move away from him as their eyes met. "I don't think we should do that," Her breath is warm against his lips. "You'd regret it."

"I doubt that." His words are hushed, and if he leaned a bit closer, just the smallest bit, their lips would touch. Averys gaze switched between his eyes and his lips. She wants to be brave enough to close the gap. She does. But there is a small voice in her head telling her that it's wrong. That she will destroy everything that she has created if she moves forward with what's happening.

"You're so soft nobody knows how to take care of you".. "You know what you are? An ungrateful brat. That's all that you are, and that’s all you’ll ever be".

"You're pathetic, I can't deal with you anymore. No one can."

"I'm sorry but... I can't." She whispers and she doesn't have to tell him that's it because of her mind, her past, and everything that she continues to hide from him. He knows.

"I get it." Harry reassures her and instead of kissing her lips, he kisses her forehead.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He leaned in again, pressing his lips to her forehead once more. This time letting them linger.

“It’s okay, Ave. It’s alright. You don't need to be sorry.”

So, instead of kissing, they watch Lost In Translation. Harry had fallen asleep shortly after, his head resting on her thigh, and Avery’s fingers gently carted through his soft, honey brown curls. Somewhen, the morning sun illuminated the living room. The early morning rays casting a golden shadow over the room. Bathing everything in what could only be described as eternal light.

Francis emerged from his bedroom soon after the sun rose, stopping for a short second to look at his friend. Harry was asleep on Avery's lap, his face cuddled into her stomach with her hand resting on his head. He looked so at peace, even youthful in his sleep. He was getting the rest that Francis knew he deserved. That he needed.

Seeing him and Avery together made Francis happy. He saw the way that they had interacted during the party. They were always together, never spending much time apart.

Francis made his way to the kitchen, getting himself a glass of water. He got a cup out of a cabinet, one that had been washed only hours ago, and filled it at the kitchen sink. not bothering with ice, it was too early for ice cold water. Once the cup was full, he turned off the tap and turned around. He jumped and nearly dropped his cup, startled to see Avery stood at the entrance of the small space.

“Jesus! You scared me.” Francis leaned against the counter, holding a hand up to his chest in an effort to slow his racing heart.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

They stood there in silence for a while. Avery eventually made her way into the kitchen, sitting atop of the counter closest to the entrance. Francis was looking out the small window they had in the kitchen, and Avery watched. He didn’t seem to be actively in the room. His mind was elsewhere. This was a different kind of silence. Not like the atmosphere that they had experienced after everyone had left hours ago. This one was darker, in a way.

Somehow, Avery knew. She just knew. She knew that he was troubled. Maybe it was the worry that Harry always had in his eyes when looking at his friend. Maybe it was the dread that showed in Harry’s face whenever he called. Or maybe it was her own personal experience. But, either way, she knew. She could see the scars that littered his arms, the ones he had tried so desperately to cover, and it made her angry. Did she have a real right to be angry? No. She didn’t truly know the boy that was standing in front of her, but she knew enough. She knew enough to know that he shouldn’t feel that kind of pain. From what she had seen, he was funny, caring, and he stood by his friends. He cared for his friends. She didn’t want anyone to know half of what she had been through, what she had felt. And she knew that he had.

“Francis?”

“Yes?”

“Just… thank you.”

He looked bewildered by her words, not knowing what they were for. “For what, Avery?”

“For earlier. Eric. You saw that he was bothering me and you told him off. I never got to thank you for it.”

“Oh… it was no problem. He was being a prick. He kept on advancing towards you when you told him no, and I won't stand by to see that.” He made his way to the kitchen sink, Avery not too far from him, and started to rinse out his empty glass. Avery watched as he did so, closing her eyes shortly after to let them rest for a minute.

“Avery?”

“Yes, Francis?”

“Can you promise me something?” He looked into her eyes, a serious glint inside of them.

“I guess so… what is it?”

“This probably isn’t my place, and I apologize if I offend you in any way. But, just… please stand up for yourself. Okay? There are loads of blokes like Eric, people who will take advantage of you because you are too nice, people who will disregard your rejection of their actions. You have to stand up for yourself. I would hate to see you get hurt because of something like that.”

She was taken aback by what he was saying. She didn’t know how to respond, at least not right now. So she simply nodded her head, casting her eyes downward.

“And thank you for the cake, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. I'm glad.”

Avery’s apartment was a wreck. Various papers and notebooks littered every surface as she tried to find a good sample she could send over to Hughes Magazine. This was a real opportunity, one that needed to be taken seriously. She has the chance to be a published writer, to have something that she had written somewhere in the world for people to see. To say that this was nerve wracking was a major understatement. Avery was sitting in the middle of her living room looking like a mad woman, frantically flipping through notebooks in hopes of finding something that she deemed good enough.

After going through every piece of writing she had, she decided to submit two short stories and a handful of poems. She chose pieces that, she hopes, shows her diversity as a writer. Avery wanted this to be something, just once. She added her CV and all the other required information before attaching the poems and stories at the end of the e-mail, sending it off to their office in London before closing her laptop, pushing every bad thought aside.

As she began to pick up the mess she had made in the process, Avery's phone lit up showing her a message from Tom.

Tom: Hey, is there any chance you could come in early tomorrow? I've found a potential new employee and I would like you to show her around a bit.

Avery: Sure. How much earlier?

Tom: Thirty minutes early will be fine, just need a second opinion on her. She would be starting work soon, if she is decent at everything.

Avery: I'll be there.

Tom: Thank you, Avery :)

"What do you think about the editing?" Harry questions Francis, showing his laptop with the edited photo on the screen. He spent the whole Sunday in front of the computer, trying to finish editing the set his boss needed for an upcoming ad. His eyes were exhausted and his head ached from the hours he spent looking at the monitor screen.

"I like it," Francis says with a shrug, continuing to eat his Ben and Jerry's out of the paper container.

"I need constructive criticism, Frany. Saying you like it is not cutting it anymore." Harry groans, putting his head back to regain composure and stretch his sore neck.

"You know I'm devoted to the numbers.'" Francis replies with a sigh. "I can't give you constructive criticism when I don't understand it."

"It's art. Most of the time you don't have to understand it."

"Why are you not doing your black and white photography? I love it and I know you do too, I'm sure there are some people who would buy it."

"Those “some people” aren't going to pay rent," Harry closes the laptop, realizing Francis really wouldn't be much help here, and layed down on the sofa, his head atop the arm rest. "I wish I could just do that."

"I’d say do it. Do what makes you happy. That's what you always tell me, anyway."

"Yes, but you're different," Harry murmurs, his eyes closed and his forearm shielding them from the sunlight. "And what would I photograph? I don't go out anymore, I barely see James or Emily or Anais anymore. And God, I have a million photographs of you already."

"First of all, you make that sound like a bad thing." Francis replies, before eating another spoon of his ice cream. "Why don't you do a series on Avery?"

"She doesn't like being photographed."

“May I remind you that that's what you do? Take photographs without people noticing, so it's not staged."

"Yes I know, but-" Before Harry can finish his sentence Francis makes his way to Harry's room only to come out a minute later with a large black and white print. Harry remembered that day as if it were yesterday. It was Anais’s birthday party. Francis wasn't well that day so Harry had to take him to the party, he didn’t trust him enough to leave him home alone. He had spent the whole evening making rounds around the house, camera in tow, capturing every guest he could.

The photo in front of him showed Francis in an armchair in Anais’s living room. There was a half empty glass of champagne in his hand and a red balloon tied to his pinky, and at the first glance it almost looked comical. This sad boy with all the balloons, presents, and dancing people around him.

That same night, Harry had gotten absolutely wasted. So, when Francis told him that he wanted to go home, he didn't hold him back. He didn't look at him, not really, not like he should have. Once he had finally made his way back to their flat, he found Francis cutting himself on the bathroom floor and immediately sobered up. They didn't talk while Harry gently patched his friend up, doing so with so much care that it made Francis cry. And they didn't talk while Harry sent Francis to bed before he cleaned the bathroom, blaming himself for everything that had happened in the process.

Despite everything that came after, this was still one of his favorite photographs he had ever taken. The black and white didn't seem dramatic, but natural. He caught Francis without a mask, just Francis. It was safe to say that his best friend despised the whole thing, he didn't like it one bit and Harry was sure that if he hadn't stopped him, Francis would have ripped the print to shreds immediately.

"I really like that print..." Harry mumbles, eyeing the photograph that feels like it was taken so long ago. When he was still so naive and inexperienced, thinking he could just do this his whole life. "But I can't do it. I have to think about earning money, this dream won't take me anywhere."

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deruste · 7 years

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chapter 3 Duran

I stood in a small room looking through a small window overlooking the sea shore. The view was superb with an overlooking gaze over a glorious coastal city with large complexes sprouting out of the ground like a proverbial forest and markets surrounding most of them like the grass floor of one. I was told the weather was warm and pleasant and I can see from the window that it was a beautiful clear sky today. I turned my head towards a single mirror hanging on the wall and I saw my own reflection within it. To give an accurate description of myself I’m 7 ft tall, a very stocky metallic being with clawed hands and a symmetrical head with two rounded eyes. My arms and legs resemble human ones and are interchangeable.

I looked at my chest and opened it up to inspect my insides. There were extra spare parts and some crystals inside. “Hmfp, at least he didn’t damage it too much.” I turned my gaze towards to a single crystal with a single crack irradiating arcane energy at my very core. “Should take some time to fix it but what can go wrong with waiting a little longer.”

Knock knock “Duran, you ready.” I heard a voice coming from the wooden door. The room was nice enough with its nicely crafted wooden interior and literal giant sized bed clocking in at about three feet high and 11 feet length. Sadly I don’t need sleep but it does room together.

“I’ll be right with you in a moment.“ I closed my chest cavity and walked towards the door. I grasped the knob and turned taking a peek outside. There was nothing there even as I turned my head both ways.

"Ahem, down here.” A low raspy voice caught my attention and I proceeded to look down as it commanded.

“Oh, kulen didn’t know it was you.“ I saw a short green man with bulbul’s feet and arms two sizes too big for his body and a face with jagged teeth and a nose that resembled a beak. Kulen is one of many oddities I’ve have found in this city, apparently, he is called a goblin, A race of small green humanoids that clock in at 3ft mostly living as merchants. He was wearing leather armor that was dark blue with a cloth headdress covering all but his face with a pitch-black scarf.

"So they send you as an escort. Guess they still don’t trust me.” He simply nodded to my remark.

"Well can’t blame the superiors. Well, you can but not directly please and don’t mention me, I need their paychecks. Besides its best to be cautious of someone, who two weeks into their espionage mission suddenly turns traitor to the other side.”

"I just saw those I served under as petty and saw the plan of attack they had planned. I won’t play steward or herald to such a massacre.“ I said back to the disgruntled little man but he gave a little smirk to what I said.

"And the legion accepts the defection with open arms but we still need precautions, we are still a military group after all.” He said straining to sound sincere.

I heard little about this “legion”. Apparently, it’s a military group that “deals" with magical incursions. Beyond that, they said nothing to me and just left me to sit in one of their fortress in a city called Kollesta. We cut the conversation short and walked through a long hallway dotted with stone doors and two-way mirrors, the interrogation rooms. I’ve made several trips here to reaffirm my story to the interrogator’s they keep sending my way probably in attempts to see if I change my story and have apple reason to call me a double agent just so they can hang me. As we walked down the marble corridors the two-way mirrors filled with questionable characters ranging from strange to mystifying.

I passed by one with what looked like a human made out of flames barely held together by garments looking to be more comfortable in a dessert arguing vigorously with a women with horns and leather wings in bronze armor consisting of bracers, sandals and a dagger-like short sword that looked more suitable for stabbing than the usual function of slashing.

"Is that armor typical here or is it a stylistic choice?“ I inquired as I stood watching the winged woman argue with the burning man.

"Depends could be a mercenary but the look of the armor screams demigod to me.”

I quickly turn to face him to see if he was straight faced about that line. “You’re kidding right?”

"Uh no, no I’m not kidding you. That woman probably comes from new-Athens or Jade city, both of them have populations that are nearly entirely demigods. Kind of a dumping grounds of unwanted godly children.” He kept a serious face with a bit of that smirking grin he always had but I just stood there and waited for the “gotcha” line I was sure was going to come. “Well if you’re done gawking, we should get on the move to the infirmary.”

With a renewed focus we walked pass the interrogation rooms into several blank hallways dotted only by some doors and the occasional painting. I kept a keen eye out for more of these demigods that Kulen talked about. In my culture, the appearance of one usually was the prelude of either great fortune or devastation but usually the latter. The fact there are enough to have two cities devoted to them gave me considerable shock…. just how. Just how much time must their gods have to pork and sire children must they do anything else.

“I would imagine someone would be overwhelmed by this information. *sigh*, If I can’t make a statue not be overwhelmed by this knowledge how will I do it with a 15-year-old girl. He He he.” I started to share in the laughter. The goblin was not a small comfort in this complex, he was the only one who didn’t see potential threat nor had the urge to try to rip my head off. He has also been gracious in telling me as much as he can of his organization and about this city.

“Trust me when I say that I’m doing fine, the fact something new is behind every corner excites me more than anything besides I can still offer my services to help with… her.” She was a matter of delicacy. Kulen told me that she was attacked by my old comrades and was sent through what they referred to as a shadow gate, a portal using one shadow as the entrance. Apparently, her soul was pulled out of her body when it came out the other end and the medics think she should wake today.

“About that Duran, I trust but will she Trust you.” His word stung me, I’m well aware of what my old comrades tried to do to her but perhaps if I explain it to her I can offer some help. I can help her adjust to her new life at least as something for her misfortune.

“Perhaps, how about if we both talked to her?”

“Maybe Duran, but I mustn’t take chances on this.” His words stung a little but I understand the rationale behind them enough to shrug it off. We were on our path again and walked through the grayish stone floor and black obsidian walls clashing with the scarlet doors. We stopped in front of a mass of people running between dozens of doors crossing every which way in white gowns, leather suits and heavy armor with wheeled beds. The beds have comatose patients in all kinds of garments but there was a single trend, most were human. Some were very dark skinned while others are very pale or little of both, the coloring blending of humans fascinated me very much. Are there near limitless combinations? Are some stronger than others? How does it transpire? It all permeated in my head but I shook off the thoughts as we got to the room we were looking for.

“How is her condition? I asked immediately

“She is stable and woke up for few seconds about a day ago. The shamans said they identified the problem and they say they can fix it now.” The room was isolated from the chaos of the other rooms, a lonely island in a giant sea of attendants and crying families. There were two guards that caught my attention, two very interesting looking soldiers with six arms and three faces. They were both in very heavy armor that perplexing had large spots of unprotected skin on the stomachs, hands and feet. I see they have Great…. The confidence I guess? The Arms and top of the head were buried in heavy, shimmering heaps of armor but rather than being protective it was mostly decorative but the arms seem very well designed, might make a pair of my own.

“What are those? I looked down at Kulen who seemed in the process of nearly soiling his pants. “Aaaah Kulen you all right buddy? He didn’t seem to move or even notice my question, just staring at the warriors. “All right, I’m sorry in advance Kulen.” I opened my chest cavity and picked out my non-sharp hands which resembled humans ones with five fingers and started to carefully replace my own arms by removing one at a time and then using the newly equip appendage to attach the other one and braced to backhand some sense into him. I put my hand in the right position and carefully gauged how much force to use. PHAW. I applied little force but Kulen nearly flew across the hallway but thankfully he seemed to pick himself up and seemed to compose himself now.

“I’m alright I believe I’m mostly all right. Although there is troubling news I have to deal with now.” He started to stare at them again but then he started to walk towards them, visibly trying to look more imposing to the creatures. “I see the Asura clans have donated your services to the legion. I hope that you’re not the last of them.” Though his words were ones of gratitude there was audible fear and reluctance as he said it.

“The Hindu pantheon saw fit that the Asuras give their strength to the legion in the light of recent events.” The first of the pair said

“We came along with some demigods from Jade city that also came for enlisting.” said the other whose only distinction from the other was that he was of blue skin and the other was of red skin. After that, I thought I would have to slap him again because the same dumbfounded face of despair was popping up again.

“I see, well again I hope you enjoy serving for the legion from now on.” He bowed his head and proceeded to walk into the room as the Asuras gave me dirty looks with all of their heads. “Don’t mind him he’s with me.” He said promptly.

“Is he some sort of golem sire or some sort of prisoner you’re not taking seriously? The red one asked

"No, he’s a new enlistee, Fresh from the clutches of the enemy, this one right here. One look at a decorative officer and he went up to him and joined our cause so would have to say officially he is your co-worker.” After that remark the Asuras backed away from me and started to do their best to avoid looking away from me, then the moment I dreaded for a day or so happened. The room was very crowded with two officers of the legion standing in the corner with going right to left are a wolf man and a man in heavy golden armor with a spear in the right hand. The wolf man was wearing what looked like a mix of leather and cloth armor with a cloth tabard covering the chest and arms and leg guards. There were also three humans surrounding one teenage girl in a hospice bed, who when given the circumstances was looking quite peaceful in her bed. She had long dark hair that had a bit of a curled look. There were two humans on both sides of the bed, the one on the right had a pale complexion with red hair that seemed for lack of a better term fake. She had on strange garments as well and not the good kind of strange as I saw from all the people in the facility but more in the sense it just looked strangely made and boring. She had a plain cloth-like shirt with the single design of a plush feline on the front of it and trousers of a strange material with a few ripped patches. The other was slightly tanned but not on the level of the hospitalized girl who was a brownish color but more in the realm of half way with a jacket over a plain bluish cloth-like shirt like the girl on the right. Same kind trousers too no ripped patches, though, are humans more herd based when it comes to fashion? There was a third human of dark brown complexion who sat at the foot of the bed burying his head in his hands. He had a red shirt and same trousers as the first two again herd mentality. His head was interesting, though, to be more specific his hair which looked liked a field of corn that barely sprouted from the soil.

“These are her friends?” I looked down at my green friend looking for an answer but he slowly walked towards the red haired girl.

“Has she woken up again Amber?” She turned her head to meet Kulen’s face and she looked like she been neglecting rest. “You have not have been getting sleep have you?”

“I have been staying awake since Mira first got up but it has been hours and …I just want to be awake when she finally comes too.” She looked extremely tired and about ready to collapse at any moment.

“Don’t worry; there are some people who deal with problems of the soul that are coming.” A golden armored soldier finally said from the corner.

“Uhhh my head feels like a pile of bricks.” The girl in the hospital bed slowly rose rubbing the back of her head with a pained expression on her face. The red haired girl started to hug her immediately while the two male’s moods seemed to brighten up when they laid eyes on her.

“Oh oh right the death hugs, sorry Mira.” Amber released the girl from her surprisingly iron gripped hug.

“No, it’s alright I think I’m fine now, Amber what’s with the green guy, walking statue, wolf-man and a burly man in golden armor?” She seemed dazed by the creatures all around her but not frightened, not the least bit which kind of surprises me I would’ve thought she would have fainted but nope she just is mildly surprised.

“ Hmph, when I first saw them I nearly screamed my head off. Damien tried to calm me down but I ended up punching him in the face.” The tanned human started to instantly rub the left side of his face with a pained look in his eyes.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT MONSTROSITY DOING HERE!?” The girl identified as Mira gave an accusatory finger in my direction.

“Guess your memory is still intact. My name is Duran and I’m the reason you’re not being sold at a deli in Albadon.” She didn’t appear to take solace in my words instead seeming to just take it as an insult.

“You had me and Amber in a choke hold on a tree while trying to stop one of your friends from using us as experiments!” The wolfman started to get out of the corner.

“Actually that was me under cover making sure they get their comeuppance, you just appeared out of nowhere making it more complicated.” His voice had a hint of some sort of gruff accent but damned if I know what kind it is.

“And for your information girl I hated that bastard for longer than you been alive.”

“Cram it you too, she has been through enough already. Tal-no and Kalzoron please stand outside let me break the situation to her gentle.” The two soldiers begrudgingly left the room leaving me and Kulen with the humans, oh joy this is going to be a fond experience.

“So I guess you’re in charge of this place?” The other humans started to gather around her giving me dirty looks but I didn’t really mind I should have expected the icy reception. I do want to help Kulen though.

“Why yes I am, my name is Kulen a commander in the military group known as the legion. What is the last thing you remember Ms. Mira?”

She started to tell us about her dream. I stared at her in mild surprise at her descriptions of her dream especially about the city being buried in water and the tower, the first of which cached Kulen attention.

“I’m sorry to say this but that vision about the tidal wave did happen. The east coast of the United States is halfway in the ocean and the entirety of human technology has apparently been disabled.” The humans didn’t take the news greatly from my perspective most of them with expressions akin to that of a child that told her entire family died.

“Wh… what about our families and town are they safe or at least being protected?” The red headed human seemed to almost beg for an answer from Kulen as if he can make it seem like it never happened or perhaps rewrite everything so that they were still in their town at least trying to comfort their families.

“Your town was sadly near the land invasion but we manage to save move some people from the area but not all of them regrettably your parents may be in the mix but we can’t be sure. Besides Miss Mira, your talk of this Zelnam is of more concern especial of his supposed gift.”

“Why is that more of a concern than if our families still alive he could have been a fever dream for all we know.” Kulen just swings his head back and forth at this.

“For all, we know he is a spirit who wants to take over your body or a rogue god trying to make a new cult.”

“A rogue god? What constitutes a rogue god?”My question fell on the death ears of Kulen but it seems to interest the humans, though.

“Wait for a god; what are you trying to say here, green man?” Kulen seemed to compose himself, trying to find the right words to lie upon them like a criminal put before a judge.

“I saying that you are no longer in the comforting world of concrete and steel. Now humanity is face to face with shadows of the past and the shadows have grudges to settle and old duties that must be affirmed.” He seemed to ramble off about higher powers like he was of the cloth of some cult and I should know I worked (although briefly) with such an individual. His words were foreboding and from my minute days of spying in Asia the humans are going to have a …short war with my old homeland.“Duran, would you have an arcane or mana crystal of some kind in that chest cabinet of yours?”

“Better, I have one fused together why?”

“I need to demonstrate something to these people.” I did as he asked and grabbed out the crystal. The crystal was blue and purple with the shape of a cube with spiked edges. I bent down and put it his hands and he put it front her on her lap.

“What’s this for?” As she reached out to touch it a dust like energy started to absorb itself into her hand. “Why is it doing that?”

“Well, it appears that this so-called “gift” This Zelnam promised seems to be arcane magic and possible some other form of it.” The girl ripped her hand from the crystal and proceeded to stare at it with a look of abject horror.

“Is that a bad thing or is it something that will blow me up?”

“If you don’t learn to control it but for now it’s probably best for to rest here especially you amber, gets some sleep. Damien and Alex please go with Duran to the market for some food shopping, here some money.” He handed me pieces of gold, silver, and platinum. “Tal-no will come with you so you won’t get lost.”

The two boys followed me out the door begrudgingly, especially the dark one who must be Alex. We walked down the infirmary to an enormous reception room with an immense ceiling mosaic depicting a human male holding up the world over his shoulder with an inscription saying Mundus super nos. “You aren’t still mad me are you?”

“Well the scar on my neck from your friend sword hasn’t gone away but you seem decent enough beside I blame myself for getting us in that situation.”

“Mind if I ask why you think that is not as though you’re the one who leads them … there.” The sudden words were apparently the hammer on the soft skull as the human started to look down on his feet.

“I drag them all there for a project for my science class that I need help with. Mira saw a light in the trees and we got worried and followed her and …you know the rest.” I see why the human feels responsible now but it still not his fault but it’s better for him to figure out himself. After that bit of awkwardness, we meet with Tal-no the golden warrior from the infirmary.

“Sorry, but you are wanted with Caduceus in the interrogation rooms.” Kalzoran the wolfman came rushing in out of nowhere looking haggard.

“May I ask why, why does he need me for?” The question was stuck in the air I start to piece together his meaning. “Fine, I’ll go there and help him, just guide the humans to the market.

Great I have to back to where I started an hour ago, this time with a wolf man that was almost as awkward as that Alex boy. But the most frustrating part is that I will have to talk to the people I stabbed in the back. "Well, something had to ruin this day."

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tatayanne · 7 years

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Everyone is not going to confess that they have this issue. I will agree that there are levels. You may not be at the “My 600 lbs life” level but you may be like many people I know including myself at the “I play too much” level.

When I think about every holiday that triggers a moment of happiness, in my mind food is synonymous. Thanksgiving Oh my! Christmas, New Years, Memorial Day, Birthdays and 4th of July! All of these center around a good meal with some good folks. The meal resonates with me mostly…it takes good food to have a good time and it is often the highlight of my vacations. I attach food to emotions and some of you do it too. It’s comforting, it’s familiar, it’s damn good and we need it to survive..to a certain extent.

I had a neighbor once who told me how she emotionally ate and through prayer and fasting she discovered new ways to curve her eating habits. She explained to me how she was so dependent on food, that when money was tight from paying bills she would often reward herself with something good to eat. That the flavors of a unhealthy food relieved her temporarily of stress from struggling to make ends meet.

I thought to myself in that instant…I do the same thing. I pay my bills, I grocery shop, I gas up the car and I say, you know what?! I’m going to grab some really good food to eat. I’m honestly like, you paid those bills girl, that rent is paid Honey! Let’s Eat! I did that, I ate.

When I was younger we reserved Friday’s in my house as a night to eat something extra greasy, real fried and so yummy and that made us content! We were glad to eat Showmars and watch a movie from Blockbuster.

This was all good to me until that metabolism slowed down and the pounds started chilling.

I soon discovered that food is also the enemy…

I’m not really into sweets. You can talk me into some butter pecan ice cream and some oatmeal cake pies, but I know people who attach their emotions to dessert. This is dangerous. Not only does this cause cavities and dental issues but all of that sugar intake can’t be healthy..I’m no expert.

I attach my emotions to Mexican food. Lol! To be honest, not every Taco Tuesday I’m eating my feelings but when I’m feeling sad, overwhelmed, bored or conflicted…Nachos are my savior. Now I try to keep my intake of Mexican strictly to Tuesdays but it can be difficult not to grab a burrito other times throughout the week.

I’m not food shaming anyone so don’t get it twisted I am merely sharing how I realized I was eating emotionally. I now catch myself and curve the mental hunger. I try to make sure I’m really hungry in lieu of just grabbing food and I drink so much water. Here’s how I recognized my emotional eating and maybe it can help you to stop as well. I didn’t opt to work with a counselor but I added things to my life to fight that pseudo hunger I felt.

Again, I’m no professional but here it goes.

1. Eating because it’s there (Bored Eating)

I like to sit at home every once in a while and just binge watch TV. It’s usually on Sundays when I’m home alone. If I’m not careful I can eat a million things while I’m sitting there. So now on Sundays I take long walks or run, I visit family, I hang out a parks and I eat a well balanced meal about a hour or two before bed. If I find myself wanting to snack. I do nuts or drink a flavored water. I also honestly don’t buy the crap so it’s not accessible to me.

2. Eating because I have extra money

You don’t have to eat every time you leave the house or grab a snack every time you are in the store. Sometimes you have enough cash leftover to put to better use than your stomach. I remember sharing a bank account with my ex and we were looking through our statements, he looked up at me at the kitchen table and said…“you eat through all of your money that you have for fun”. At first I was embarrassed and I was even more embarrassed when I grab the bank statement and saw all of the circled items from me eating. Sometimes it was three to four different places in one day.

3. Ordering multiple things instead of a meal

When I don’t know what I want to eat, I would order so much food. One day I went to Zaxby’s and ordered cheese bites, fries, wings and cookies and a soda. I was unsure but I wanted multiple things. The meals are already seventy two million calories so ordering multiple things was just too much.

4. Meetings over a Meal

I know now that meeting over a meal is no good. First we need to conduct business so not only are we eating an app (because I’m waiting on the other person to get there) I am also ordering drinks and a meal. We are now thirty minutes in just talking and I have three apps, one mixed drink and refill on sweet teas and you now want an Entree.

5. Getting upset and finding comfort in food

Whenever I would become upset it could be due to feeling lonely, left out, overwhelmed, enraged, misunderstood, let down or whatever, I ate. Chocolate is the way a lot of people cool down. One day I was mad so I went and got some nachos and I caught a glimpse of myself chewing and eating. I was acting as if that quest was solving world hunger because I was tearing it up and I wasn’t even angry and the food triggered feelings that made me feel better. However I was disgusted, I was like hell no. I threw the food away and went on a walk.

This was just some of the reasons why I would emotionally eat because I was not addressing my real issues which were self-love, lack of confidence, body issues, financial strife, relationship issues and grief, although food was giving me instant gratification, it also affected me in areas that I had major issues with.

So I suggest you journal, work-out, meditate or something like that but please don’t eat your feelings…it will pull you further away from redemption. In addition to that don’t think that only thicker folk eat their emotions because it can happen to anybody. Let’s end Emotional Eating by dealing with our inner issues..

my Motto for 17’ was

Eat to Live don’t Live to Eat!

Blessings and Peace

-BasicallyiBlog Tah

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