#Riss Lake

[queer-little-demigod]

you belong with me - clarisse la rue

summary she's in love with her best friend.

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!Poseidon!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings jealous!clarisse, swearing, pining, knives, clarisse threatening people, fluff.

masterlist

dividers from this post of @cafekitsune, check out their account!

At this point, Clarisse had no clue how the hell she fell for you.

You relationship had started when she'd tried to intimidate you on your first day at camp, and instead of backing down under her fierce as death gaze, you had threatened her at literal knifepoint.

"I've stood up to bullies bigger than you," you'd snapped, your soft e/c blazing with fire as the tip of a dagger kissed the underside of her jaw. “So back off, or I’ll make you regret it.”

While that earned you respect amongst everyone in camp, it earned you respect of every Ares cabin member, too.

Especially Clarisse la Rue.

The scariest girl in camp.

It had started off with her debating on whether or not she would be mean to you, making you her enemy, or befriending you.

She was strong, not stupid, so she chose the latter option.

Which brought you both here, today, three years later.

The spring season had started setting in, flowers were blooming, the sun was pleasant, wind wasn't scarce and it was cool. Sitting under the trees in the woods became a natural pastime for year-round campers like the two of you.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the surrounding trees, casting irregularly shaped shadows on the ground, turning them a deep green on the slightly prickly but comfortable grass.

Clarisse leaned her back against the big tree you both were sitting under, polishing her spearhead, with you in front of her, doing the same for your knives.

The daughter of Ares, while she'd never admit it aloud, was absolutely smitten when it came to you. In fact, this feeling had been lingering in her heart for some time, one which attracted her to you in a definitely non-platonic way.

So here she sat, listening to you talking. Your voice was the only thing she was focused on besides polishing her weapon. It stood out amongst the gentle rustle of the leaves in the trees, the call of a distant bird, the lapping of the lake's water against the edge just past the clearing.

"So, I told Silena that Charlie's in love with her, not her actual dumb blonde of a sister, Sharon," you said, rubbing the polish on the cloth you had in hand, before continuing to polish your left-hand knife. "You know, for a child of Aphrodite, she is remarkably oblivious towards loving advances. Oh, and you know that girl, Kyra, from the Hephaestus cabin? My gods, she has been looking so fine--"

Clarisse stopped listening right then. She knew you were smitten with this girl from the Hephaestus cabin, and by every one of the ever-merciful gods of Olympus, she hated it. She hated how you talked about Kyra, how your eyes lit up when the muscled girl covered with grease so much it was an accessory would glance at you.

She tuned out and stared at you, not noticing the disdainful look on her face.

"Risse, you look like you just smelled a wild centaur," you laughed, putting the cloth down and sheathing your knives again.

Clarisse rolled her eyes and grumbled, "No, I don't like Kyra's vibe."

"Aww, jealous?"

"You wish,"

You were so oblivious. Not only were you unaware that Kyra was a playgirl, but you didn’t notice that Clarisse was smitten with you to the point where it was embarrassing.

For starters she looked at you like you were the world. With adoration, awe, and wonder. She honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you.

She hated how you didn’t notice how her eyes lit up around you, how she was softer with you compared to others, how she let you paint her nails (mostly) without complaint.

You were just too oblivious.

Naturally, that evening, that same evening, she was at the Ares table, talking with her own siblings, while she watched you help Percy out with the rest of the camp’s social structures—something he hadn’t quite figured out yet, even after having gone on a quest.

But the way her blood boiled, as if a furnace had lit up inside her heart, making fire course through her veins, when Kyra came up to you. She saw how flustered you got, saw the way your cheeks reddened when Kyra brushed a hair from your face.

By the gods and her father’s name she wanted to smack that Hephaestus girl into next week…

Meanwhile, you say with Kyra, enjoying the butterflies in your stomach when she touched you, laughed at your nervous rambling’s. But the butterflies suddenly came into light as a warning. What was the likeliness that this affection would last? What was concrete in this interaction? Was it just a playful banter? Or something serious?

So many questions, not enough answers.

But one thing was for certain: Kyra wasn’t the one for you. It took just one interaction for you to understand that.

To understand that Clarisse was right.

But before you could walk away, your hotheaded best friend, seething with anger, jealousy rolling off her in waves, came up to you both and ‘borrowed’ Kyra for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing?” Clarisse asked as she led a very surprised Kyra into the forest. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, playing with Y/n’s feelings like that?”

“Come on,” Kyra laughed, Nerva wearing off a little as her arrogance took over. “She’s a girl, a smitten little girl, who knows she likes a little bit of muscle,”

“Unfortunately she doesn’t know that there’s a snake under that damned muscle,”

“Jealous, Clarisse? Of course you are,”

“What that supposed to mean, punk?”

“You’re so in love with Y/n, it shows. Everyone in camp can tell,”

“Oh is that right? If you know that so well, then you’d better stay the fuck away from her,”

Kyra’s brows shot up. “Is that so? What if I don’t? What if I take her to this very spot, and kiss her, maybe while you watch from the bushes over there?”

Clarisse felt her fists clench, felt her whole body tense up with an adrenaline that came out only during battle.

“What if I break your legs and punch that stupid face in?” She asked, eyes full of the familiar fire that only her opponents saw. “I don’t think Y/n likes the taste of blood.”

She relished the look of panic on Kyra’s face. The trapped-animal stare, the darting irises, searching for a way out, analysing her moves in that second. The tense muscles, clenched jaw, closed fists. All of it was familiar to the child of war.

But how familiar was it to the child of the forge? Not much, probably.

“Stay the fuck away from Y/n, and you and I won’t have any problems, Kyra,” Clarisse said, her voice soft. That made it more dangerous. It was soft like the gentle rain that preceded the flooding thunderstorm—a warning.

Kyra nodded, knowing it was unwise to provoke Clarisse La Rue, especially over a girl everyone in camp knew not to mess with.

But it also meant that Clarisse figured out the depth of her love for you. That it was deeper than the vastest sea, stronger than the biggest tsunami, and more damaging than a hurricane. It was fiercer than fire, more powerful than a blow from her spear, and definitely more dangerous than war.

So she’s decided to flush out her feelings. Get them out before things got worse because she couldn’t possibly find a way to get out of the ‘philia’ situation she had going with you. She wanted ‘eros’, wanted ‘ludus’, and she knew it.

Her catalyst was the mind, she wanted it to be the body., wanted it to be the heart. She wanted you in a way that friends never wanted each other. She wanted you the way Achilles wanted Patroclus, wanted you the way Romeo wanted Juliet, the way Orpheus wanted Eurydice.

She wanted you and only you.

But she could never have that.

So she decided the best way to manage her haywire heart was distance.

But by every one of the gods, big and small, was she wrong.

You found that Kyra didn’t look in your direction ever again, and additionally, found Clarisse avoiding you with nearly psychotic fervour.

Three days. You tolerated it for three days.

Finally you stormed up to Clarisse when she was training. With a swift kick to the back of her knee, you sent her crashing to the ground, disarming her spear from her.

“What did you think you were doing, avoiding me like this?!” You seethed, knife at her throat. “What, was this your idea of punishing me for having Kyra flirt with me?”

Calmly, Clarisse moved you off her like one would brush away a particularly disgruntled cat, and stood up.

“Look, I’m fine, I wasn’t doing anything,” she shrugged, grabbing her spear.

You rolled your eyes. This girl was dumb, stupid, and an absolute useless person when it came to interacting with others.

“I don’t think ignoring me for three straight days can be counted as ‘not doing anything’!” You snapped, annoyed.

Clarisse flinched at your tone.

“Why?!” You asked, following her around as she cleared up the arena. “Why exactly have you been ignoring me, hm?”

She listened patiently to your incessant pestering, going about her business while you looked like you were about to blow a gasket with how mad you were since your hands began to move more animatedly, your frown deepening even more.

“Why the hell did you say that nothing’s wrong when something clearly is?! Are you jealous? Is that it?! Why?!” You asked, expecting her not to reply the way she had been the last ten minutes.

Clarisse had had enough. She was taking the plunge into that deep dark sea, not sure if she was ready to face the monsters in it.

“Because I’m in love with you!” She said, turning around with a terrified look on her face. “I’m in love with you, and I didn’t know what to do about it because you clearly don’t love me back!”

You stood silent for a second too long. But she didn’t run. She stayed there, waiting for your answer.

“You’re in love with me?” You asked, baffled.

No butterflies, nothing fluttered in your stomach, your heart rate merely quickened and your body pulsed in every place with serotonin.

No butterflies meant this wasn’t just a thing, a fling. It wasn’t mindless flirting.

This was ‘ludus’, the love of intimacy, pure love.

“Yes, Y/n, and it kills me every single day, hearing you ramble about Kyra, and you know what I’m thinking when you talk about her like that?” She asked, tears ready to come out of her eyes. “I think that I could treat you like a queen, like you’re above Hera herself. I think that why would you love a playgirl who won’t give a single fuck about your feelings, when I’m here already knowing what you want for breakfast every day of the week! I think that I could be better than her, that I am better than her, in every possible way, but you’re just blind! You don’t see that I look at you like you’re the world because you’re so smitten with a girl who would toss you aside for the next blonde girl she sees!”

You listened to her carefully, taking in her words. In between, neither of you knew when, she had started crying. Small tears rolled down her bronze skin, tracing small pathways in their trail of sadness, of pain.

“I’m sorry,” you replied softly, stepping closer, putting a hand up to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry that I was blind to how you feel about me, I’m sorry for not noticing it sooner,”

“And Y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? I can’t…I know that we can never be together and…” she stopped short when your hands went up to cup her cheeks.

“Why is that?”

“Philia, Y/n. Friendship love.”

“Who says it can’t progress?”

“You don’t love me back,”

“I do,”

“Friendship love doesn’t count here,”

“Bold of you to assume I’m talking about friendship,”

Clarisse froze.

“I love you too, Clarisse,” you said softly, looking at her in her eyes. “And I’m not talking about ‘philia’. Gods I love you the way Achilles loved Patroclus, the way Romeo loved Juliet, the way Orpheus loved Euridyce,”

“I thought that too,” she whispered, shocked. “How…”

“I know that because these three romances are the ones I’ve read to you,” you replied. “I know you, Clarisse. But I was too blind to see your love went past my mind and extended to my heart, my body, my soul. And I’m sorry for being blind.”

“You belong with me, not her,”

“Do you see me doubting that?”

She giggled softly. Clarisse La Rue, the most feared girl in camp, giggled like a little kid.

“It’s okay, I guess, you little dumbass,” she chuckled. “So…what now?”

“I don’t know, do we kiss?” You asked, confused. “You know I have never kissed a girl before and—“

She silenced you with a finger to your lips.

“Let’s…take it slow? Ease into it?” She asked. “Cause I have never kissed a girl either,”

“Be my girlfriend, though?”

“You thought I’d say no?”

Hi! It’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3

#clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #friends to lovers

[caminos-north-america]

First Steps

30.06.2023

Es ist der letzte Arbeitstag für mich in diesem Jahr und gleichzeitig der erste Tag meiner Reise. Der erste Tag des „neuen“ halben Jahres. Ein bisschen wie Silvester. Noch am selben Abend holte mich Pavel um 23 Uhr in Ottendorf Okrilla ab. Die Fahrt nach London hatte ich über BlaBlaCar gebucht. Von London sollte am 03.07.2023 mein Flug nach Vancouver starten. Doch langsam. Pavel hatte noch zwei andere Fahrgäste und als er mit seinem Ford Mondeo auf den Parkplatz rollte war im ersten Moment nicht ganz klar ob mein 40 kg Haulbag (150l) in diesen Kompaktwagen passt. Doch Pavel meinte schon im Vorhinein kein Problem und nach einem sehr leichten Level Tetris war der Gefährte auch verstaut. No Worries.

Pavel fuhr fast die gesamte Strecke durch und machte nur für eine 30 minütige Schlafpause halt.

In London angekommen hatte ich anderthalb Tage Zeit für einen Stadtbummel. Doch mit dem riesigen und schweren Rucksack macht so was kein Spaß. Ich versuchte Sam (der Name meines bis jetzt sehr treuen Gefährten) in einer Boulderhalle loszuwerden doch die wollten ihn leider nur nachts nehmen, da sie tagsüber keine Verantwortung für ihn übernehmen wollten. Also gab ich ihn für eine Nacht in die Obhut der Boulderhalle, schnappte mir meine Isomatte und meinen Schlafsack und machte mich auf den Weg in den nächstgelegenen Park, um dort die Nacht zu verbringen. Am nächsten Morgen startete ich 6 Uhr morgens, um mir bis 9 Uhr (um diese Urzeit öffnete die Boulderhalle) London anzuschauen. Ich stellte fest das der Park nachts abgeschlossen wird. Somit hatte ich vor dem Stadtbummel erst mal einen kleinen Boulder über den Zaun als Warm-Up. Nach 9 Uhr hatte ich den Haulbag wieder an der Backe und verbrachte den Rest des Tages in einem Park.

Nach einer weiteren Nacht auf dem Flughafen ging es dann mit dem Flugzeug Richtung Vancouver und am Tag darauf weiter nach Squamish. Dort angekommen ging es natürlich sofort klettern. Nach einer Woche ohne Restday traf ich Kevin in Squamish. Mit ihm hatte ich mich für einen Trip in die Bugaboos verabredet. Er wollte mich in Squamish abholen und bevor es losging kletterten wir schnell ein 5 Seillängen Tour und gingen danach noch in einem anderen Sektor Sportklettern. Anschließend ging es nach North Vancouver zu Kevins Apartment. Am nächsten Tag wollten wir eigentlich zeitig aufstehen, um nach den zehn Stunden Autofahrt noch zum Camp aufsteigen zu können. Die Wetterprognose war allerdings eher eine Katastrophe und so entschieden wir uns zwei Tage davor in der Nähe des Banff-Nationalparks Sportklettern zu gehen und erst danach, wenn das Wetter wieder besser wird, aufzusteigen. Also fuhren nach dem ausschlafen entspannt in Vancouver los und hatten einen lässigen zehn stündigen Roadtrip durch British Columbia und ein Stück von Alberta. Während wir fuhren kamen wir langsam in, durch die Waldbrände, verrauchte Gebiete. Dadurch war die Sicht während der gesamten Fahrt ein wenig eingeschränkt und es war kaum möglich die Berge in ihrer vollen Pracht zu bestaunen. Am nächsten Tag riss uns der Wecker gegen sechs Uhr aus dem Schlaf, denn am Lake Louise einen Parkplatz zu finden ist nicht leicht. Er gehört schließlich zum Banff Nationalpark und ist entsprechend beliebt. Nach dem wir einen Parkplatz ergattert hatten und unser Frühstück beendet hatten, ging es dann zum Klettergebiet auf der Rückseite des Lake Louise. Wunderbar farbiger Gneis erwartete uns dort und hielt die ein oder andere nette Klettertour bereit.

Nach einem weiteren Sportklettertag war es am 14.07. soweit und wir stiegen früh in das Appelbee Camp im Bugaboo Park auf. Eine kleine Klettertour am Nachmittag stimmte uns auf den nachfolgenden langen Tag ein. Der Plan war die Beckey Choinard am South Howser Tower (3200m) eine 15 SL lange Klettertour. Diese ist eine der bekanntesten und beliebtesten Klettertouren der Bugaboos. Allerdings muss man erst mal ein vier stündigen Wanderung über Gletscher und diverse Col's hinter sich bringen, um am Einstieg zu stehen. Wir starteten 6 Uhr am Camp und erreichten den Wandfuß ohne große Probleme gegen 10 Uhr. Nach unserem zweiten Frühstück am Wandfuß stiegen wir simultan in die Tour ein und brauchten für die ersten 10 Seillängen 3,5 Stunden und überholten dabei eine Seilschaft. Auf dem großen Band vor dem Beginn der nächsten sechs Seillängen machten wir unsere Mittagspause und mussten feststellen dass zwei weitere Seilschaften vor uns in der Tour waren. Und diese waren sehr sehr langsam. Also warteten wir insgesamt ca. eine Stunde bevor wir wieder starten konnten. Und dann warteten wir am nächsten Stand wieder eine gefühlte Stunde. Und dann wieder. Und wieder. Wir brauchten für die letzten sechs Seillängen wegen des ganzen Wartens sechs Stunden. Auf dem Gipfel stellten wir dann fest das unser Seil zehn Meter vor dem Ende zerstört war und so fragten wir die andere Seilschaft ob wir mit ihnen abseilen könnten. Also hatte es in gewisser Weise doch etwas Gutes dass sie vor uns waren. Das Abseilen dauerte nochmal vier Stunden und so machten wir uns erst um 23 Uhr auf den Weg über den Gletscher zurück zum Camp. Inzwischen mit Stirnlampen. Da meine Brille bereits in der ersten Woche in Squamish gebrochen war und ich diese nur mit Tape geflickt hatte und an diesem Tag das Glas wieder begann sich zu bewegen, hatte ich den ganzen Tag meine Sonnenbrille (ebenfalls mit Stärke) getragen. Dies war in der Dunkelheit allerdings kaum mehr möglich und somit musste ich den ganzen Rückweg ohne Brille gehen. Und so war es manchmal nicht ganz einfach den Weg zu sehen. Aber no worries. Wir hatten uns den ganzen Tag auf Mac & Cheese mit Dosenerbsen gefreut aber als wir dann endlich halb 2 in der Nacht ankamen, wollten wir nur noch schlafen.

Mit wunderbarer Sonne wachten wir am nächsten Morgen auf und verbrachten einen Pausentag in der Sonne. Nach einen Brunch, ein klein wenig Sonnenbrand und dem Abschneiden unseres Seils wollten wir am Nachmittag noch ein bisschen was klettern. Unsere Tagesform ließ allerdings zu wünschen übrig und so nahmen wir stattdessen ein kleines Bad in einem der Seen. Nach einem weiteren Ruhetag mit Gewittern und Regen und einem halben Klettertag stiegen wir wieder ab und machten uns auf den Weg zurück nach Squamish. Auf dem Rückweg kletterten wir noch über einem Stausee in Revelstoke an perfekten GNice und verbrachten den restlichen Tag im Auto auf der Straße.

Insgesamt ein gelungener Tripp.

#landscape #climbing #squamish #bugaboo #mountaineering #travel

[daughterofhecata]

okay please tell me about "Shit." because that's a great title XD

[wip ask game]

Jaja, dachte mir schon, dass der Titel Aufmerksamkeit erregen könnte xD Die Story ist ein bisschen als Hommage an Anne Stuarts "Still Lake" gedacht, weil, bei all seinen problematischen Elementen, ist es eins meiner absoluten comfort books. Und da ist das erste Wort des Love Interests, nachdem er und die Hauptfigur die ersten beiden Male miteinander schlafen, immer "Shit.", was sie natürlich überhaupt nicht lustig findet. Und ich dachte, dass würde eine ziemlich witzige Peter/Skinny Story abgeben xD

Snippet:

"Shit", war das erste Wort, das Peter wahrnahm. Die Stimme riss ihn schlagartig aus dem angenehmen Nachglühen seines Höhepunkts.  Ehe er reagieren konnte, hatte Skinny sich auch schon von ihm los gemacht und war abgehauen.

#ja weder skinny noch peter ist so ganz zurechnungsfähig und keiner von beiden weiß was da eigentlich grad passiert ist #bin aber bisher nicht über den ersten der geplanten 5+1 teile der story hinaus gekommen #shit. #ask #hazelestelle #thanks for the ask!

[bergamorisvegliata]

SILENZIO

Pandemie vere o presunte; guerre per procura e conflitti interni di grande rilevanza; crisi economica che mette sul lastrico miliardi di persone nel mondo; religioni sempre più assurte a dogmi dai quali nascono dissapori tra popoli e anche all'interno di uno stesso stato; cambiamenti climatici (peraltro sempre esistiti) che causano danni ingenti e sofferenze per via dell'incuria dell'uomo (in particolare da parte di chi ci governa); imposizioni sanitarie tese a sperimentare farmaci non propriamente benefici, anzi tutt'altro.

Queste sono le continue "minacce" alla razza umana che ormai da decenni e soprattutto più velocemente negli ultimissimi anni, si stanno facendo largo non solo nell'opinione pubblica ma anche all'interno dei titoli dei giornali.

Non passa giorno che si legga e si parli di crisi di ogni genere; e come se non bastasse le cronache ci portano alla "ribalta" casi di violenza tra le mura domestiche, di aggressioni non solo verbali che culminano con pestaggi e accoltellamenti, di risse per delle cose futili e per non parlare delle risse negli stadi (ma questo è un problema "vecchio").

Insomma, mai come ora e in questo periodo, il mondo è in preda a un vero e proprio delirio di "esistenza".

E allora, cosa c'è di più profondo che non "rispolverare" il "Silenzio"? Ovvero quella musica che nelle caserme segnava l'ora di coricarsi e di andare a dormire, ma che in altre occasioni e non del tutto rare, significa un saluto a un amico che non c'è più, oppure a un conoscente deceduto o anche per una situazione tragica e che non si vorrebbe rivivere.

Prendendo spunto da un "post-facebook" qui di seguito vi lascio il testo originale con traduzione e in fondo alla pagina il video tratto da "youtube" del "Silenzio" nella splendida interpretazione del compianto musicista italiano, Nini Rosso.

VERSIONE INGLESE:

Day is done, gone the sun

From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky

All is well, safely rest

God is nigh

Fading light dims the sight

And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright

From afar, drawing near

Falls the night

Thanks and praise for our days

Neath the sun, neath the stars, neath the sky

As we go, this we know

God is nigh

VERSIONE ITALIANA

Il giorno è terminato, il sole è calato

Dai laghi, dalle colline e dal cielo

Tutto va bene, riposa in pace

Dio è vicino

La tenue luce oscura la vista

E una stella illumina il cielo, brillando chiara

Da lontano, si avvicina

Cala la notte

Grazie e lodi per i nostri giorni

Sotto il sole, sotto le stelle, sotto il cielo

Mentre andiamo, questo sappiamo.

#Youtube

[fantasymisfitsquotes]

Riss : Where would we go?

Ellisar : Somewhere with mountains.

Riss : A few fields.

Ellisar : Wild flowers.

Riss : A couple of cows.

Ellisar : And a lake.

Riss : And a lake.

#riss #ellisar #source : merlin #:')

[mfaculty]

Fall is here…catch the colors while you can! Riss Lake (at Parkville, Missouri) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjoruLVOLKl/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[sith-as-heck]

Meeting the family.

Syn’Da invites her boyfriend’s family to meet her parents.

The lake house on Naboo had belonged to Syn’Da’s great-Grandparents, their wedding portrait hung in the main hall, watching everyone who entered.

It was built in the old style. It had belonged to her Grandfather’s side of the family for centuries. It seemed the Riss family were as old as Naboo itself.

Syn’Da didn’t grow up here, she grew up in a modest cottage on the planet of Lira San, Where her Father, Alexander helped the Lasat people rebuild after the Empire almost wiped them out.

But home was wherever her Fathers were, it didn’t matter what star cluster they were in.

Syn’Da stood on the back porch, watching the lake, She had invited her boyfriend, Ben too come meet her family and she was nervous.

She shouldn’t be, Her Father, Lokki and Ben’s Mother, Leia have known each other since childhood, so there would be no clashing there.

But would Ben’s Mother like her?

Leia Organa was a Senator and a war hero, Little girls all across the galaxy looked up to her.

Then there was Rogue, Ben’s step-Mother, who was a galaxy famous guitar player for the band Cosmic Heartbreakers.

That was a lot to live up too.

“They’re here!” Alexsander’s voice carried through the house.

Syn’Da took a deep breath.

                                                               X

“It will be nice to catch up with Leia again.” Lokki commented to Alexsander as they stood on the landing platform in front of the house.

“You spoke to her on behalf of the Lasat only last month.” Alexsander replies with a smile “Hardly a lifetime ago.”

“We haven’t had time to talk, talk..” Lokki smoothes down a wrinkle in the fabric of his dark green cloak “Small galaxy that our daughter would fall in love with her son.” 

“Is your Mother joining us?”

“Later, she seems even busier these days than she was during the war..”

Alexsander laughs “She’s allergic to relaxing.” 

As Syn’Da joined them, the door of the ship in front of them opened its loading ramp, first came the gold protocol droid that frankly, Lokki was amazed hadn’t been scrapped for parts. 

Then came Leia, dressed in her trademark white with her wife, Rogue at her side, who was wearing a black garment that was somewhere between a dress and a bodysuit. It made her look like a ghost. 

“Princess!” Lokki walks towards Leia and embraces her 

“Lokki.” She hugs him back “It's been too long since we met socially.”

“It has.” 

Lokki broke the hug and held out a hand to Rogue, who he knew wasn’t a hugger.

“Nice house here.” Rogue shakes his hand, her nails scratch his palm “Its old.”

“The ancestral home of the Riss clan.” 

Rogue smirks “Hardly a clan.” 

“Of course, I forgot, you Mando’s use the word clan differently.” 

Rogue chuckles “Not much of a Mando these days, more just…” she gestures vaguely to herself “Just Rogue.”  

Lokki nods “That's good enough for me.” 

Rogue walks away, off to greet Alexsander and Syn’Da. 

Lokki focus’s on the other figure who had quietly exited the ship.

He wore simple black, nothing flashy, and had his black hair brushed out of his face. 

“Ben.” Lokki greets.

They had met before, in passing when Ben was a child but this was a new sort of meeting, This boy was dating his eldest daughter. 

“Lord Riss.”

Lokki laughs and steps forward

“Lokki, Please.” 

Ben nods

“Hows your Father?” Lokki smiles “He owes me a hundred credits but doesn’t return my calls.”

Ben laughs “He’s well…I’ll uhh..I’ll remind him to repay you.”

“Good, good.” Lokki clasps Ben on the shoulder “I think you’ll be a perfect addition to Syn’Da’s life.”

#OC: Syn'Da Riss #OC: Lokki Riss #OC: Rogue Aleeka #alexsandr kallus x oc #ONE DAY I'll spell his name right I promise #leia organa x OFC #leia organa #Ben Solo

[petnews2day]

Destructive dog starts house blaze after managing to switch on kitchen cooker

New Post has been published on https://petnews2day.com/?p=50196

Destructive dog starts house blaze after managing to switch on kitchen cooker

The house, in Missouri USA, was severely damaged in the fire after the dog managed to raise its two front legs and get its paws on the cooker while its owners were out

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Missouri: Dog sets home on fire after turning on stove

Bewildering video footage shows the moment a dog managed to turn on a kitchen stove and start a fire.

The large dog managed to lift his two front legs onto the kitchen top and switch on the gas hob with its paws.

Moments later, the pet pooch wandered into the hallway and the cooker burst into flames at the house in Missouri, USA.

Emergency services were baffled when they arrived at the scene and found only two rescue dogs inside, reports UPI.

An investigation was launched into the cause of the fire which started while the dogs’ owners were away.

Security footage taken from the living area later revealed how one of its four-legged occupants was behind the blaze.

Crews from Kansas City Fire Department and Southern Platte Fire Protection District rushed to the scene after smoke began billowing from the kitchen.

Security cameras inside the Missouri home recorded the dog turning on the kitchen stove (

Image:

YouTube)

Firefighters reviewed the footage from inside the home and discovered one of the dogs had stood on its hind legs to investigate a pan on the stove.

The canine inadvertently turned on the heat and then disappeared from view.

Investigators said the pan still had food in it from a previous meal and the heat caused a grease fire about eight minutes after the canine activated the stove.

The house was severely damaged (

Image:

YouTube)

The house, located in the Riss Lake neighbourhood of Parkville, was left severely damaged after the blaze.

Neither of the two pet dogs were injured in the fire which was reported in June.

Home appliances, candles, Christmas decorations and electrical devices are the most common causes of house fires in the US, according to the National Fire Protection Association (NFPA).

Footage revealed the incredulous moment the dog started the blaze (

Image:

YouTube)

Pets and animals do not even fall within the top 10 causes of house fires, which are often put down to faulty gadgets, candles and shoddy electrical work.

Other top fire starters are people falling asleep while smoking, chemicals and gasses, lightning, children unknowingly playing with fire or matches at home, BBQ grills and normal fires that grow out of control.

Fire crews were called after smoke began billowing from the kitchen (

Image:

YouTube)

The NFPA reported 490,500 house fires in the US in 2020, among a near 1.39m reported fires of all types.

House fires cost 2,730 lives, 13,000 injuries and left behind $12.1billion worth of property damage.

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#Dog News

[eatandstayfitblog]

Meal prep company taking over the old Roomors space in Babylon Village

Meal prep company taking over the old Roomors space in Babylon Village

Matt Riss and Mark Ciaburri have spent the last few years helping Long Islanders on the run enjoy a good, nutritious meal. Soon, they’ll be doing so in Babylon Village. The company’s seventh Redefine Meal Prep location is expected to open soon at 255 Deer Park Ave., the former longtime home of Roomors, which just moved to Lindenhurst. The other Redefine Meal Prep locations are in Lake Grove,…

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[alexkrahenbuhl]

Exposed Roots, Riss Lake, Missouri,

Ink and Watercolor on Glass, 3/21,

@alexkrahenbuhl

#art #artist #alexkrahenbuhl #painting #illustration #watercolor #ink #glass #landscape #forest #trees #roots #nature #Riss Lake #Missouri #expressionism

[ayselwaller]

╰ ♡ ✧ ˖ a starter for @tyrcne no The Lakes. 🐚

Aysel estava nervosa. Apesar de o The Lakes ser seu bar favorito e de ela já ter estado no local várias vezes, aquela era uma ocasião diferente e especial e tentar prever quais seriam os rumos da noite era quase uma tortura. Enquanto seguia até o local de táxi, ela tentou se acalmar como podia. Claro, já havia ido ali com Tyrone algumas vezes, era um lugar conhecido para ambos, mas como seria aquele recomeço? Confie em você mesma, Aysel! Ela pensou, descendo do carro depois de pagar o motorista e seguindo para seu destino com passos firmes que amoleceram assim que seu olhar encontrou o rapaz lá dentro. Céus, como era fácil entender o porquê de ter se apaixonado por ele...

A Waller cruzou o estabelecimento depois de deixar o casaco no cabideiro, completamente alheia a qualquer olhar direcionado a si que não fosse o dele. Era quase como a primeira vez em que ela o viu, naquele mesmo bar, anos antes. Daquela vez ela estava no palco, cantando You Sexy Thing como se fosse o próprio cantor da banda Hot Chocolate, mexendo os quadris e dançando animadamente dentro de um de seus vestidinhos de verão, muito contente em atrair a atenção das pessoas até que viu Tyrone à distância e não desgrudou mais os olhos dele. Como todas as suas lembranças, aquela também parecia meio borrada pelo tempo e às vezes ela até duvidava que fosse realidade. Se recordava de uma de suas amigas perguntando quem era ele e de responder "é meu futuro marido!" de brincadeira antes de ir até onde ele estava procurar uma brecha para puxar assunto. Aysel não esperava que fosse de fato se apaixonar pelo rapaz com tanta intensidade, ou que um dia realmente sonharia com um casamento entre os dois, mas foi impossível não sonhar.

"Where did you come from, angel?" ela disse, no presente, quando chegou perto o suficiente, um risinho bobo escapando junto com as palavras. Talvez ele se lembrasse daquela primeira noite e risse junto com ela. Céus, como sentia saudades! Dessa vez ela não hesitou em puxá-lo para um abraço, simplesmente porque não aguentava mais a sensação de vazio que acompanhava as memórias. Precisava de toques e do perfume alheio para preencher as lacunas e trazer as lembranças à realidade. "Cheiroso." comentou, fazendo um biquinho ligeiramente mimado ao quebrar o abraço. Era de certa forma um primeiro encontro e ela tinha se arrumado para tal, usando uma calça jeans, botas e uma blusa de alças que a faria congelar se saísse do bar sem o casaco. "Continuo amando esse lugar do mesmo jeito. Algumas coisas nunca mudam." abriu o sorriso que não conseguia, e nem queria, segurar.

#w: tyrcne. #tag later #sem gif pq a internet não ta colaborando ):

[novemberwasgrey]

silena helping clarisse with boy problems?

I actually wrote this a while ago and it was originally in French so I apologize for the shitty English. Also, it’s fluffy and Clarisse might be ooc, but just like Zoë Nightshade: I don’t give a dam.

French version is here on ao3 if you’re interested: (link).

“OUCH! Careful, Beauregard!” Clarisse la Rue barked.

“Sorry, 'Risse,” Silena apologized, sitting on her bed. “but you know, you can brush your hair once in a while it won't do you any harm.”

Clarisse rolled her eyes to the sky, which the daughter of Aphrodite didn't notice as she untangled the last knots in her hair.

“With all my brothers' bullstyx to deal with and a war on the way, brushing my hair is the least of my problems.”

Silena nodded her head, only agreeing with this. It was well known that the Ares cabin was a real challenge and she admired Clarisse very much for being their head counsellor; especially as she was the only girl there. As for the war... Cronos... Yes. She knew it all too well.

She was still quite sceptical as to why Clarisse had asked her for help with her hair. It's true that all was not so happy for the daughter of Ares these days. Especially concerning a certain boy who had just recovered from madness, after she had taken care of him for six months...

“So,” Silena began in a tone that was meant to be gentle. “what's up?”

“Nothing. Just wanted us to hang out for a bit.”

“All right.” said the brunette at first

She didn't want to rush her. Clarisse was like a wild animal; you have to let her come to you. She started a wheat cob braid in her dirty-blond hair

“Actually,'' she sighed after a minute. “I need your help. About-“

“Chris?”

Clarisse blushed. “How did you guess?”

“I figured you weren't going to ask me for advice on weapons of war.” Silena joked.

Clarisse shrugged, playing with a thread sticking out of her worn shirt. “You're not so bad at swordsmanship. Better than your pestilent sisters.”

“Hey! Be nice, they're not that bad.”

“Yeah right. I still want to shove Drew's head in the lake.”

“What if you'd stop changing the subject now that you've spit it out. You like Chris, don't you?”

Stubborn silence. Silena sighed: “'Risse, come on... It's just me. I'm not going to judge you, on the contrary! I want to help you.”

Clarisse knew that. Her friendship with Silena goes back to when they both arrived to camp at the same time. They were stuffed together from the Hermes cabin, before each got claimed by their godly parent. And although they were opposed in every way, this friendship still lasted to this day, to the surprise of many campers.

“It's just that... Argh! I… I can't stop thinking about him.”

“Aww.” squealed Silena tenderly.

“HEY! Don't get too cheesy about this, 'Lena!” Clarisse warned, as she suddenly turned around.

“All right, I'll stop! But you should tell him how you feel. Have you guys talked since Dionysus healed him?”

Clarisse blushed again and hoped that none of her brothers would show up at the cabin now; there was no way they were going to see her in that girlish attitude with her first crush.

“Yeah, uh... When everyone was at the campfire, we were together for most of the night. He thanked me, like, fifty times for taking care of him, he apologized fifty times again for joining Luke's side. And then, well... He was telling me stupid jokes, and we laughed, and...”

“And?” Silena gently insisted.

“... We held hands.”

The daughter of Aphrodite refrained from saying another "aww" as she tied the finished braid. Now face to face, she could see that Clarisse was smiling and it made her ecstatic.

“Okay, let me be honest with you now: Chris is crazy about you.”

“Nonsense.” her friend muttered. “I mean, we're friends for sure, we were already before, but-“

“Exactly, you see, I have eyes!” Silena said. “Already before he left, I was watching you two. He always had a special gaze for you, or he would smile every time you kicked someone's ass or always tried to make you laugh...”

“It doesn't mean anything. Why would he want to be with a girl like me when he could have a girl who is, well… prettier.”

She almost spit out that last word, like it was hard for her to admit. Vulnerability could be seen in her eyes, something the brunette rarely saw in Clarisse. She always looked so strong and unflinching.

“Clarisse... You are, pretty!”

“Yeah right!” Clarisse let out a humorless chuckle. “Very funny coming from an Aphrodite girl who all the guys drool over.”

“Yes, I'm an Aphrodite girl, goddess of love and beauty, so let me tell you what I see.” Her best friend sighed. “You have a natural beauty that few girls can muster. Your skin is super clear, while I need at least one coat of foundation to hide my blackheads! Hell, I’m telling you. Your lashes are super long so you don't need mascara, your hair is not that bad if you don't hide it under a bandana and untangle it sometimes (Clarisse rolled her eyes) and oh... Seriously, Clarisse. With all the training you do, you've got such great legs-

“All right, all right, I got it!” Clarisse interrupted, laughing.

“Come on, you know I’m right! I'm sure that if you chose shorts more than cargo pants, more people would turn around, including Chris...” She winked at her, and they both burst out laughing.

“Look, the only advice I can give you is to just be yourself. Chris likes you just the way you are.”

The daughter of Ares pondered on this for a good minute but ended up giving her friend a little smile.

“Thanks 'Lena.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day, the evening having already fallen and the campfire ending, Beckendorf insisted on taking her back to her cabin.

“Harpies aren't going to come after me at eight o'clock Charlie.” she giggled, holding his hand.

“I know, but I insist. I love spending time with you.”

Silena smiled and kissed him on the lips. The two continued on their way, passing by the shoreline of the camp's lake. Silena stopped short when she saw two silhouettes sitting in the sand: Chris and Clarisse settled in each other's arms, contemplating the stars. The two seemed to be talking and Chris was playing with a lock of her hair. Then he leaned over to kiss her, casually, as if they had spent the evening doing only that (something the daughter of Aphrodite was suspecting).

Clarisse had a radiant smile. Silena's smile grew even bigger as she watched them. Beckendorf, who had also seen everything, did not comment but let out a grin too.

"Everything all right?" he asked his girlfriend as they walked away.

"Perfect."

#it's ooc and not perfect I know #honestly it was so cringy to edit because I wrote this a long time ago #but I love to think that's how silena and clarisse's friendship was #pjo #silena beauregard #charles beckendorf #charlena #clarisse la rue #chris rodriguez #chrisse

[simofree]

Rudolf Nureyev :  una vita tra la luci ed ombre.

Rudolf Nureyev era tutt’altro dal gentleman che vogliono rifilarci i romantici e i nostalgici che magari lo hanno conosciuto per un quarto d’ora o che lo hanno incontrato in occasioni eleganti e raffinate, lui, una volta chiuso il sipario e spente le luci doveva fare i conti con immensi tormenti, paure, psicosi e un irreversibile rifiuto per qualunque ordine gerarchico tanto per strada, quanto in sala ballo o tra i conoscenti. Dopo una gioventù trascorsa tra le violenze psicologiche del comunismo nell’Unione Sovietica (1922-1991) e la chimera del sogno occidentale Rudolf dovette convivere con un eterno sentimento di rabbia e rivalsa tra le luci della scena e le ombre della notte.

  Alcuni aneddoti che riguardano la sua vita lavorativa e quella privata sono venuti alla luce di recente sulla stampa estera e grazie alla pubblicazione di alcuni libri – ancora non tradotti in italiano – emerge un ritratto nuovo e disarmante della stella dell’est. Non che il pubblico fosse completamente all’oscuro riguardo il suo caratteraccio, al contrario, un vocìo costante circa i suoi diversi alter ego tra violenza e ribellione e dissolutezza c’è sempre stato, ma si tratta di un vocìo sommesso e timido, perché si pensa erroneamente di tradire la sua magnificenza divina ammettendo le sue debolezze umane. 

Beryl Gray, 90 anni compiuti lo scorso giugno, prima ballerina inglese ad aver danzato al teatro Bolshoi e direttrice artistica dell’allora London Festival Ballet (oggi English National Ballet) dal 1968 al 1979 racconta, nella sua autobiografia, alcuni aneddoti della sua vita lavorativa con il grande ballerino. Nel 1977 invitò Rudolf Nureyev a creare per i suoi ballerini Romeo & Juliet, che ancora oggi resta la versione coreografica portata in scena dalla compagnia londinese. Nei suoi diari scrive: “Ogni giorno era diverso e imprevedibile […] come grande artista e produttore era fantastico, era fonte d’ispirazione per i nostri ballerini, ma detestavo il suo linguaggio volgare, la sua costante maleducazione e i malumori imprevedibili.”

Nel suo “For the love of dance” (Oberon Books, 2017) Beryl ricorda un’esibizione di Romeo e Giulietta in cui Nureyev “ha attaccato una delle nostre principali ballerine, Liliana Belfiore, imprecava furiosamente fino a prenderla a calci sul sedere così forte che ha lasciato il palco con grande dolore. Fu chiamato un medico che, dopo averla visitata, disse che il coccige era stato danneggiato e addirittura piegato dai calci”.

Beryl Grey: | 1953 Beryl Grey as Odile in Swan Lake.

Anche Simon Robinson, ultimo giovane assistente di Rudolf, racconta nel suo libro “A year with Rudolf Nureyev” (Quercus, 2013) di un uomo irascibile e volubile, pieno di ossessioni e rituali assurdi, capace di creare il vuoto intorno

  Iniziò a lavorare per lui nel tour di The King And I, non sapeva nulla del balletto, e suppose fosse per motivi riguardanti lo spettacolo che Nureyev dovesse dormire in una stanza d’albergo con le finestre chiuse e il riscaldamento alzato al massimo, indossando una tuta di spugna sopra una felpa di Topolino.  La vita di Simon al servizio del grande ballerino pare fosse durissima, ma nonostante i litigi e le discussioni furiose da cui Nureyev pretendeva di uscire sempre vincente, decise comunque di restare al suo fianco. “Non c’era mai motivo di discutere, discutere era una sfida e, poiché Rudolf non sbagliava mai, una sfida equivaleva al tradimento“, scrive Simon.

La rabbia e le frustrazioni che sembravano caratterizzare le sue giornate venivano poi incanalate e sublimate nelle esperienze notturne tra sesso promiscuo, risse ed esperienze al limite. Il suo difficile rapporto con il padre, che aveva sempre odiato in quanto  ufficiale dell’Armata Rossa e decorato eroe di guerra che lui definiva “un brutale stalinista” e il non aver più visto la mamma per ben 26 anni se non in punto di morte in quanto le era stato vietato viaggiare dal regime comunista, lo avevano poi portato al categorico rifiuto di ricevere ordini, all’abitudine di sottomettere chiunque e tenere testa in qualsiasi situazione anche dove non c’era assolutamente bisogno di prevalere

separare la vita privata da quella pubblica e rendere giustizia al demone ribelle e irriverente che abitava dentro di lui

Nureyev rivisita il balletto classico, lo reinterpreta e rivoluziona il ruolo del ballerino, che mai più sarà el porteur della prima ballerina. Crea dei soli e crea ruoli aggiuntivi per il protagonista maschile. Ha avuto anche la capacità di esperimentare, quindi non solo di essere ballerino classico, ma anche coreografo, attore, direttore d’orchestra. Questa capacità e voglia di mettersi sempre in gioco, sempre alla prova, dimostra che non ci sono limiti ad un artista di quella caratura.  Roberto Bolle in: Artists in Love. Rudolf Nureyev & Erik Bruhn (2016).

incarnava genio, perfezione e carisma ...

Un'altra sua magica partner fu Carla Fracci, con la quale formò una coppia indimenticabile.  dalla sua casa di Milano, la ballerina italiana intende sfatarne la fama di divo arrogante: "In realtà era corretto e generoso", sostiene. "Poteva esplodere in sfuriate e dimostrare toni bruschi, ma sulla scena alimentava di energie meravigliose la sua partner. E io lo percepivo come un giovane fondamentalmente timido e tenero". Carla rammenta certe sue strane confidenze: "Mi raccontava di sognare spesso sua madre che saliva su una scala i cui gradini erano fatti di pane". Al suo fianco ballò i titoli più significativi del repertorio: "Facemmo Giselle, Il lago dei cigni, Coppelia, Don Chisciotte. Ma lo spettacolo al quale sono più legata è il suo Schiaccianoci, la cui coreografia è terribilmente impegnativa. Avevo a disposizione solo cinque giorni per imparare il ruolo. Stavo per rinunciare ma Rudy insistette per coinvolgermi, pur avendo a disposizione altre ballerine. Ci chiudemmo in sala-prove per ore e ore, e lui m'insegnò il balletto passo dopo passo con determinazione furiosa". L'esito fu un trionfo 

Da fiero anticonformista, Nureyev ammirò Martha Graham, la capofila della "modern dance" americana, e ne volle danzare i perimetri angolosi: fu la prima star con un background classico che decise di viaggiare sui binari del contemporaneo. Dall'83 fino all'87 guidò la compagnia dell'Opéra di Parigi, a volte sfiancandola col suo atteggiamento dispotico. Ciò nonostante fu un direttore audace e preveggente, che scoprì e lanciò, all'interno dell'ensemble parigino, una generazione di talenti straordinari, tra cui spicca soprattutto Sylvie Guillem.

nella biografia di Julie Kavanagh

“Il ritmo era in ogni cosa: in quella vita disarmonica, nell’eccesso del movimento, nella curiosità inquieta. Nelle sue esperienze incastrate tra un oriente e un occidente che lui non riusciva a capire del tutto, ma nei quali viveva fuggendo e anche ballando, come se ballare fosse l’unica ricerca che veramente lo interessasse. La vita di Rudolf Nureyev è ciclica, è perfetta, è estetica pura e sofferta. È trasformazione. Non ci sono ripensamenti, c’è una spinta continua ad andare avanti, un’ansia di vivere che lui riusciva a placare soltanto danzando. Nella ciclicità e nella perfezione di una vita da artista, Rudolf Nureyev non poteva che nascere su un treno, sua madre era voluta partire nonostante tutto e mentre i vagoni viaggiavano lungo la ferrovia sovietica che lambiva il tramonto del lago Bajkal, nasceva lui. Unico figlio maschio “

Inizia così la biografia scritta da Julia Kavanagh uscita in Italia per La nave di Teseo e dal titolo “Nureyev. La vita”. Lo chiamavano il “ragazzo nato in treno” e in viaggio ha trascorso tutta la sua vita. Ogni cambiamento per lui è avvenuto in luoghi di attesa, in aeroporto a Parigi gli dissero che non poteva più far parte della compagnia, il Kirov avrebbe proseguito per Londra e lui no, a causa della nottata dissoluta trascorsa la sera prima nella capitale francese. Gli ordinarono di tornare a Mosca, lui preferì Parigi, rimase dall’altra parte dell’Unione sovietica, così divenne un traditore.

Nureyev: La Danza Tra Psicologia E Rivoluzione

Nureyev rivoluziona per sempre la danza europea, supera i paletti posti tra danza classica e moderna, combina le tecniche, rivoluziona la forma. Ricuce una serie di binomi che la tradizione occidentale concepiva come inevitabilmente scissi: mente e corpo, tecnica e anima. Elimina le parrucche, il trucco pesante, le gestualità barocche e ridondanti, tutti quegli orpelli di una danza europea divenuta ormai sterile e priva di anima. Rivoluziona il ruolo maschile nel balletto, tradizionalmente considerato un mero supporto, un accompagnamento ai passi della ballerina, fino ad allora considerata l’unica vera protagonista del balletto. Le dinamiche più profonde del rapporto tra uomo e donna vengono interpretate in chiave totalmente nuova sul palco. Con Nureyev il gioco a due sul palco diventa pura magia e l’assolo maschile spettacolo vero.

Il ballerino baschiro studia nuove tecniche di controllo corporeo e le insegna perché vuole portare la danza oltre le sue forme, per renderla capace di esprimere nuovi contenuti. Il cuore della danza di Nureyev diventa lo studio dell’espressione della psicologia dei suoi personaggi. La danza non è più solo esecuzione perfetta del movimento, ma diventa la più alta espressione interiore, una vera e propria ricerca intima e profondissima, quel ponte tra anima e corpo che la tradizione occidentale aveva per secoli nettamente separato.

Se la danza oggi rappresenta un filo capace di legare corpo e mente lo dobbiamo anche al genio e al talento ineguagliabile di Rudolf Nureyev, che ha saputo portare la forma del movimento ai suoi vertici per immergersi nel più profondo dell’animo umano.

Nureyev con la sua arte incise in maniera indelebile sui caratteri della danza maschile e non solo: egli si impose ovunque per «il virtuosismo brillante, l’espressività misurata e il carisma elettrizzante» con cui restituiva, attraverso un’attenta lettura del personaggio, nuova vita ai drammi che andavano sulla scena. Il ballerino seppe uscire dai canoni estetici della coreografia classica per toccare le vette di un’autentica forma di rappresentazione artistica ove, ad un’audace padronanza della tecnica, facevano seguito le prodezze di un gesto sempre attento, raffinato e sensuale, pieno di grazia e virilità, nelle cui forme lo spirito di Rudolf Nureyev sembrava librarsi al di fuori del tempo. 

#Se la danza oggi rappresenta un filo capace di legare corpo e mente lo dobbiamo anche al genio e al talento ineguagliabile di Rudolf Nureyev

[italianexotiicbeauty]

“What have you done?”

IT'S A MEME, THAT IS ALL I KNOW ! // accepting ( @love-reinette )

lifting her head up as she heard the familiar voice of one particular blonde vampire, dark eyes downcast at the NOW dead hunter with half his face melted off -- laying at her feet. easing the body over with her foot, mary tucked both hands into the denim cutoffs she was wearing and exhaled a deep breath. "I killed him, what does it look like? Oh sure, he likely has friends or a family - someone that will come looking for him when he does not check in…" she did not seem to care. she had already scrubbed the car down with bleach and filled it with cement bricks so it would sink to the bottom of the furthest lake.

"i just have to cut him stem to stern and roll him in lye before wrapping him in a tarp and putting him in the trunk of his car." her voice rather casual as the dead hunter was actually already lying on the tarp, there were some unopened jars of lye nearby but she had to roll him back over to slice him open. "I did not have a choice, Risse -- it was not going to be YOU or HIM. I know their designation or whatever is hunting EVIL and I am supposed to be one of the GOOD GUYS but nope, when it comes to family? Not sorry -- death rides in on that pale horse."

#asks #answered #memes #love-reinette #v; the metahuman #wqueueaqueue ( queued. )

[miknai]

@rissahqs

Ian’s father had ordered him to go and spend time with his fiancee, which Ian didn’t exactly mind either. It’s not like Ian only saw Rissa when he was ordered to, but this time he knew his dad wanted photographic proof. Making his way through the girl’s dorms, he found Rissa’s room with ease. Knocking a count of three times against the door, he stood there with his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans that were paired with a plain white t-shirt. “Oh, Rissuh!” He sang from the other side of the door. “It is I, Ian Kim, the one and only.” He continued, now speaking more dramatically than previously. Ian was planning on taking her out to dinner as the sunset on the horizon. He had already picked out a nice spot with outdoor seating for the two to enjoy the view of the mountains by the lake and the sky. He had sent her a text in the morning letting her know to be ready for dinner and to wear something that was casual, but also nice. He had his hair styled and he wore his Rolex watch along with some white branded sneakers. 

#thread: rissa #hi im ten years late #but i did it #its trash but i did it #one more 2 go