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bugabash · 3 years

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Cursed Past - Chapter 2

When the past is changed the only people who can help Adrien and Marinette defeat the new villain are themselves, just not from their time. The seasoned superheroes will need to teach their younger selves everything they know before the time runs out or else life as they know it will cease to exist. Love is blossoming, trust is strengthened, and the true power of their miraculouses will be revealed.

AO3

Chapter 1

Marinette sat on the coffee table, looking at the young girl asleep on the couch in front of her. Her younger self looked so fragile, and so… young. Her long hair was filthy, half still in her high pony, bloody and soot ridden making it almost black. Her long eyelashes lay on her freckled cheeks, one which was covered with a waterproof dressing, she had tried her best to stitch it up so there wouldn’t be a scar. Most of the young girl’s torso was bandaged up, her wounds stitched up and her burns treated, she wore a sports bra over the bandages, keeping her modesty at least. Her trousers were singed but she was lucky to have no injuries to her legs, from what Adrien had said, his younger self wasn’t doing much better.

What happened to these kids? She had to stitch up what looked like a slice only a very sharp sword could make. She had never seen a miraculous holder with such a deadly weapon. If this new villain could cause this much harm to these kids who have been Ladybug and Chat Noir for well over 4 years now, then he must be extremely powerful. And that terrified her more than anything.

Bunnix wanted them to help, but how? Were they meant to train them? Fight their battles for them? They hadn’t fought any akumas in years, let alone a miraculous holder this strong. And how long did they have until they needed to go back and fight this guy?

This was going to be impossible, she thought with a groan.

She was dragged from her thoughts when she felt a blanket being placed around her, looking up she saw Adrien standing there, looking over at her younger self.

“Shit… She looks even worse in the sunlight.” He said softly, handing Marinette a cup of coffee, sitting next to her, his elbows resting on his knees. Younger Adrien was still out cold, and Alix had detransformed and passed out on the other couch. It was almost 11 o’clock in the morning now and the married couple had already changed into normal clothes, done a medical supply run and Marinette had made some pastries for everyone. “What are we going to do, Mari?” Adrien asked softly, looking over at her.

She swallowed thickly, looking back at him, eyebrows furrowed in worry, “I… I don’t know.” She sighed, looking back at Marinette, sipping her coffee. “What I don’t get is what Alix wants us to do. I mean, yeah, we could train them, but how long do we have?”

“I don’t know, but something about all of this gives me a bad feeling.” Adrien replied sombrely, his eyes darkening.

Marinette looked over at him and rested a hand on his knee, resting her head on his shoulder. “I know,” she said softly as he wrapped an arm around her, “but whatever happens, as long as we have each other we will be okay.”

He chuckled, “life is always good with you, bugaboo.” He smirked down at her.

She pouted, “don’t call me bugaboo.” He chuckled again and captured her lips in a gentle kiss, making her smile and sigh in happiness, his kiss made her knees weak and made her inner teenage girl squeal still to this day.

He pulled away and kissed her forehead, looking back at her younger self. “Do you think… do you think it’s my father?” He asked softly, his eyes softening, dropping his arm and looking down at his hands. “I mean, it is something he would do, you know, messing up everyone’s lives.”

“It could, but… it just doesn’t seem like something he would do. It seems… too evil for him.” Marinette tapped her chin in thought, “the wounds on her are… serious. Whoever did this wield a sword, a sharp one at that. Don’t get me wrong he’s a bad guy, but he wouldn’t… kill people. Lila was more the killing type.” She frowned, “Or…”

“Or it could be the person we are all thinking of.” Adrien replied darkly, his hair falling over his eyes as he looked at the floor, his tone empty and his eyes dark. “The one person who actually is capable of this kind of death and destruction.”

“Adrien, we don’t know for sure. And you know that, we can’t speculate and get upset.” Marinette replied.

“Marinette, you know just as well as I do who can slice open Ladybug like that!” He exclaimed, standing up and pointing at the injured teen.

“Adrien, calm down. You’re going to wake them.” She replied, standing up and grabbing his arm, the blanket falling to the floor, leading him away and pulling him through to the hallway and into the kitchen. “If you start freaking out and getting angry then you will freak those kids out.” She said sternly, turning to him and crossing her arms over her chest much like she used to do when she would scold Chat Noir.

“Calm down? Marinette my psychotic cousin who is almost my identical twin could have the moth miraculous again and seems to have gone back to the past to kill everyone! Oh, and there is no Chat Noir or Adrien Agreste in that time, so he could impersonate me!” He yelled back at her, “there is nothing that could make this any worse! Oh wait!” He feigned a shrug, “oh that’s right! The fucking fox and peacock miraculous are gone! So who knows the shit they are causing!”

“Adrien!” Marinette scolded, dropping her arms and balling her hands into fists. He stared at her in anger, it wasn’t directed towards her, she knew it but she felt like he was blaming her. “If you are saying this is my fault -”

“No, I am not saying that,” He interrupted, sighing and pressing the bridge of his nose in frustration, “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I don’t blame you, m’lady.” He sighed and walked over to her, taking her hands and kissing her knuckles, not opening his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I know no one could have done anything to stop this.”

She took his hands, as he dropped his head against her knuckles, his shoulders trembling softly. “Hey, it’s ok minou, I understand.” She said gently, stroking his cheek and lifting his chin, “you silly kitty,” she smiled softly. He looked into her bluebell eyes and eventually smiled small, “we will figure this out, right now we need to stay calm.” Adrien nodded in response, dropping his head back onto their joint hand.

Marinette just stroked his hair softly before red and black whizzed in front of her eyes. Plagg and Tikki looked at Adrien curiously, Plagg looked more concerned.

“Kid, are you alright?” His kwami asked, buzzing under the young mans face, “do you want some camembert?”

“No, Plagg, I don’t want your stinky cheese!” He exclaimed, jumping back and holding his nose with his fingers. “You stupid cat with that smelly stuff.”

“Your loss!” Plagg replied, tossing his cheese up and catching it with a satisfied moan.

“The other kwamis are resting at the moment in the miraculous box.” Tikki spoke up, resting on Adrien’s shoulder, nuzzling his cheek in comfort.

“So, what are we doing with the runaways anyway?” Plagg asked, rummaging through the fridge on the hunt for more cheese.

“They aren’t runaways, and you know that.” Tikki squeaked, glaring at Plagg.

“Sugarcube, don’t give me those eyes, you know you love me and my creamy cheesy centre.” Plagg chuckled, flying over to Marinette and resting on her head, munching on more cheese.

Tikki rolled her eyes and flew in between them, “you two are masters, Marinette you are even the guardian, you know more about the miraculouses than anyone!” Tikki explained, “if you are going to stop this villain especially as he has 2 other miraculous holders helping him then you will need them to be the best ladybug and chat noir they can be!”

“What if we don’t have time?” Adrien asked, speaking Marinette’s thoughts. “It’s a lot of training! It took us years, and we will have to do it in, what, a few months? Plus they need to heal! Even with Marinette using her healing on them it will take time.”

“Adrien is right, I haven’t healed anyone since after the last battle.” Marinette said, “and the kind of training we will need to do… well let’s just say our actual jobs will kind of get in the way.” That’s when she gasped, “Work! Oh no no no!” She started pacing, “my project! It’s due in a few weeks! How am I going to finish it and train them!” This couldn’t be happening, she needed this win! She worked as a designer at the fashion line formerly known as Gabriel, since Adrien took over it was renamed Agreste. She always felt like she needed to prove herself even more being the wife of the CEO and owner of the company, she never accepted special treatment and made her way up the fashion food chain under her maiden name. She couldn’t let this slip, or she would never hear the end of it.

“I can work something out.” Adrien said, placing his hands on her shoulders and making her stop pacing, looking into her eyes.

“That is special treatment, and you know it, Adrien!” She said pouting before she groaned, she knew what she had to do, she just hated it. “I will try and work around it, hell I did more in high school!”

“There is another thing,” Tikki spoke up, nervously looking down at her hands, “I spoke to the other Plagg and Tikki. The new villain… He isn’t… new.” Marinette and Adrien slowly looked at her, fear covering their faces, Adrien’s eyes darkening. “They saw who took the miraculouses.” She looked at Plagg who looked sombre. “It’s Felix. He’s back, and he seems to be a lot stronger. Even stronger than Hawkmoth and The Painted Lady put together. He is older, stronger and on a war path.”

Adrien stiffened, his arms dropping from Marinette’s shoulders, “you’re certain?” He asked in a scary tone making Marinette back off slightly. “How did he even get the miraculous?”

Tikki looked away, “I-”

Plagg zoomed in front of Adrien’s face, getting between him and Tikki. “You know how, kid.”

Adrien looked at them with wide eyes, before he pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sunk into it, rubbing his hands over his face. “How?”

“He must have broken in, the only time I can think he could have done it was-“ Tikki spoke up.

“The gala.” Adrien said softly, looking over at Marinette, “The fucking gala that was put up by an anonymous buyer.”

Marinette looked down at her hands, feeling like everything was her fault, Adrien had been suspicious about that gala, but she made them go. “Adrien…”

“It’s fine, for now we need to be on alert, we will need to do more patrols, we don’t know that he wont come back to our time. We will train them, I’ll organize any problems at the office, and we will get through this.” Adrien stated, his eyes never leaving the floor.

“Adrien…” Marinette looked over at Adrien, reaching out to stroke his back but he stood up before she could and walked out of the kitchen and over to the back door, calling his transformation as plagg was dragged away and into the ring, and pole vaulting off into Paris. Marinette knew exactly why he was upset, this was possibly the worst news after having two bloody versions of themselves showing up out of the blue.

Marinette sighed and looked back at her kwami, she was hoping it would be Gabriel, hell she was wishing it would be her father in law, he would be easy to defeat, they know him like the back of their hands. But this was bad.

“Felix…” She whispered, rubbing her face with a groan, “why did it have to be Felix.” Groaning she dropped her head in defeat. “I hope Adrien is ok,” She said, looking over at Tikki who flew over and snuggled up to her cheek.

oOo

Chat ended up on top of a building, looking down at the abandoned mansion that used to be his home, well his prison more like. It was closed off to the public for years now, too unstable after the battle to resell, and with all the underground construction his father had done it was impossible to do anything to it. He hated this place, nothing good ever came out of it at the end. Only heartbreak, pain, and, well finding out your father terrorised all of Paris and all your friends for years can be a kick in the teeth to say the least. He crouched down, resting his chin on his crossed arms, glaring as his ears twitched, always listening. He wanted to burn the place down, burn it to the ground and watch every last bad memory disintegrate with it. He wanted it to burn.

He stood up and vaulted over and through the window to his old bedroom room with practiced ease. He looked around at what remained of his teenage room, glass crunched under his steel toed boots, looking around at the destruction. The climbing wall was rubble around where basketball and skating area used to be, his basketball hoop broken in half and lying haphazardly on the floor and the ramps just a pile of rotten wood. His bed was rotten as well, water rot must have set in with the giant hole in the roof above it. The spiral stairs were in tatters, half of it in rubble on the floor and his library was completely missing, the giant hole replacing it. He couldn’t even recognise half of it anymore.

The rest of his room was covered in rubble and his old clothes strewn across the floor. One thing that caught his eye was his old computer monitors, covered in soot and dust, the keyboard broken on the floor, the mouse nowhere to be seen. He walked over to it, looking at the main monitor and remembering when Ladybug was in here, smiling at the photo of his mom. He smiled at the memory. Any memory with either of them in it was a happy one. He wiped the monitor screen, leaving a hand mark, his anger and hurt bubbling to the surface finally like a dam breaking.

“You did this.” He whispered, clenching his fist. “You ruined everything!” He picked up the monitor and threw it across the room with a roar, panting as he watched it hit the wall and crash to the floor, the sound echoing through the mansion.

A flash of lightning lit up his face followed by a bone shattering clap of thunder, rain starting to fall slow but getting heavier.

“Why!?” He screamed at no one, “why did you do this? Why father? To torture me more? To ruin my childhood more?” He kicked his table, grabbing it with one hand and throwing it across the room like it weighed nothing. “Why couldn’t you love me? You kept me from people! Forced me to hurt people without even realising it! You never fucking loved me!” Tears stung his eyes, throwing the chair he spent so many nights sitting on studying to make his father proud at the broken piano, the clangs bringing him out of his anger. Another flash and clap lit up the room again as the light disappeared even more, Adrien’s hair now soaked, his suit keeping the chill out. He slowly turned and looked at the piano, blowing the rain water out of his mouth.

He slowly walked over to it, tears falling down his face hidden in the rain. That was his mother’s piano, memories of sitting on her lap, his small hands over hers as she played, smiling up at her beautiful face, so full of love and understanding. He dropped to his knees, looking at the wrecked piano in front of him. He wiped his eyes, not able to take his eyes off the bloody fingerprints covering the now grey keys, forever staining them, no amount of rain would get those off. It was tainted now, the good memories stained by his own blood, from what his father did to him.

“Adrien…” He heard a soft whisper behind him, causing him to jump up and release his claws, the green glow from them lighting up his contorted, pain ridden face, rain streaking down his face and his hair soaked. But when he saw who it was his claws retracted and he collapsed to his knees, loving arms catching him and pulling him into her chest, cradling him softly. “It’s ok, mon cœur! You are safe! You are loved, I will not ever let anything happen to you again. I’m here now.” Soft hands stroked his hair as he sobbed, rocking him softly. “Maman is here now.”

oOo

Adrien woke up groggily, his head was throbbing, and everything hurt. He opened his eyes hesitantly, wincing at the pain in his arm. As he adjusted to the soft light coming through the sky light. Blinking he noticed it had begun to rain outside, the soft pitter patter soothing him somehow. His mind was adjusting to everything, trying to find his thoughts so that he could figure out where and when he was. That’s when he remembered everything. Gasping and sitting straight up, regretting it immediately and grabbing his shoulder in agony, yelling in pain. He looked down at the bandages on him, grimacing at the sight of a bit of blood coming through.

Dammit! He blinked, his vision still blurry, that’s when he realised his eye was still swollen shut, his hand going to feel the hot, swollen skin. Hell, he was really beaten up. He touched the tender cut on his lip, wincing at not just that pain but the throbbing in his throat. Oh yeah, this is what it feels like after you have been strangled. He thought with a groan.

“Plagg?” He croaked, hardly any voice coming out, looking around for the small cat kwami. Plagg zoomed through the wall and hugged Adriens cheek.

“Oh Adrien! Thank God!” He exclaimed, “don’t scare me like that again!” He said crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Adrien. “Who is going to get me the cheese I like!” He cried, fishing out a corner of camembert and eating it whole.

“Augh, Plagg!” Adrien waved his hand, “anyone can guess the cheese you like just from how you smell.” Plagg floated onto the pillow purring happily.

Adrien looked around at the room, sitting up more comfortably, leaning on his good arm while holding his side with the other. It was a very spacious room and was beautifully decorated like the room he had seen earlier that day. But this room was a lot more simple than the bedroom he had been before. The bed he had slept in was large, with dark navy blue bedding on it with silk white sheets under the duvet, with a fluffy throw covering the foot of the bed. A carpet stood out prominently on the hardwood floor, recognising it as the one from his old room surprisingly, or one identical to it. Lifting his eyes, he saw a chest of drawers with ragdolls of all the old miraculous holders and their akumatised friends in the distance, he recognised them from Marinette’s room a few years ago. It stood with a standing mirror next to it, medals hanging on the corner. He recognised them straight away.

Swinging his legs off the bed he winced again, taking a deep breath and standing up. He groaned and stagger into the wall. Shit, something didn’t feel right.

“I wouldn’t do that,” He spun around to see Marinette running over to him, she was in plain dark blue jeans with a baggy off shoulder pink sweater, red straps from what he thought was a vest standing out on her pale shoulders. “You’re bleeding, sit back down!” She exclaimed, leading him back to the bed, opening the bedside drawer and pulling out a first aid kit.

“Wow, you really do keep those everywhere, huh?” He asked with a raised brow, wincing as she pulled his top off and started unbandaging him. He looked over at the wall, tried to ignore the pain as she started examining him.

“You need to be more careful; you’ve torn your stitches.” She said, her eyes never leaving her handy work as she started the first aid. “Sorry, I don’t have the morphine in here, and you need only a few.” Adrien nodded, taking a deep breath, trying his best to ignore the dull pain, thankful for the little morphine still in his body.

“How is La-uh… Marinette?” Adrien asked finally, looking down at her, gulping nervously.

“It’s ok, it must be weird knowing her real identity.” Marinette replied, smiling up at him softly, even as an adult she was tiny.

“It’s… quite over whelming.” Adrien admitted, “I never thought of her… you, as Ladybug.” He looked her sheepishly.

“It’s okay, I never thought of you as the Alley cat I was partnered with,” she replied laughing softly, “it’s okay to be a bit in shock.”

“Adrien told me about you guys finding out about each other.” Adrien replied.

Marinette giggled at that, “ah, I’m sure he did,” She started bandaging up his chest and shoulder, “he put his paw in it in that one.” She looked up at him, “but look at us now.”

Adrien nodded, thinking about all they had. A home, a family, friends, they seemed happier than ever. “Can… Can I ask you something?” Marinette nodded, “why did you get with me? Or my older… self…”

Marinette raised an eyebrow and giggled, “Speak to younger me, and maybe she will tell you.” She looked at him and sighed, “Adrien, I’m not your Marinette.” She said resting a hand on his arm, his heart beating fast. “I’m my Adrien’s Marinette, we have different pasts, and different futures. I am just here to make sure your futures happen and so that my future doesn’t become non-existent.” This comforted Adrien somehow. “Speak to her, I know how chat felt about ladybug, and it’s a lot knowing she is just Marinette - ”

“Just Marinette? Marinette is so much better than Ladybug!” He exclaimed, Marinette just smiling back at him.

“Exactly, now make sure she knows that.” She said standing up and turning to face him, Tikki settled on her shoulder. “No shirt for you until Adrien checks those wounds, he is more precise when it comes to physical wounds.”

“Marinette?” he piped up, “where is he?” He asked, something in his gut making him ask that.

Marinette stood up and froze, looking back at him, “he… needed some air. Don’t worry, he will be back soon.” And with that she left, leaving Adrien to his thoughts.

Adrien blinked, something making him uneasy, “Plagg? Is there something I need to know?”

“Kid, you are in the best hands, Marinette in this time is the guardian, she will know what is best for all miraculous holders just like Master fu.” Plagg reassured him.

“Okay, I need to see my Marinette.” He said, his memories of this morning making him cringe. He stood up, wincing and heading out of the room, Plagg resting on his head.

Now that he had a clearer head he looked around and noticed just how big this house was as he stepped out of the spare room. He stepped out into the corridor, noticing another door opposite his, he guessed it was another room. He turned and looked down the corridor that turned into a bridge to the doors across the ways, walking forward onto the walkway he blinked, almost in shock. How had he not noticed it before, giant two storey windows covered the back wall with glass double French doors framed in the centre on the bottom floor.

The rain trickling down the glass, the sound like a soft hum in the background. He noticed the garden outside, beautiful and well looked after, but he also noticed a small building with no windows and covered in vines, almost like it was trying to be hidden. He shook his head and started limping down the stairs, they were hard, polished wood, glass banister on the one side and the wall on the other.

He skimmed his hand on the stone banister as he padded down, looking around until his eyes stopped on a canvas on the wall. It was an oil painting of the Eiffel Tower in the background, orange and brown autumn trees with street lights dancing in between them, but the thing that caught his eye was the black umbrella with two people hidden behind it as they stood on a stone bridge. The woman was in a red dress with her dark blunette hair down to her waist just peeking out from under the umbrella. The man was in a black suit, their faces were hidden but he could tell they were kissing or embracing each other. He stopped midway and examined it, his heart skipping a beat. It was enchanting, seeing the two people, feeling the love they have like no other. It was like he was under a spell. He felt like he had experienced this in another life. It reminded him of a memory, a distant memory of him giving Marinette something… his umbrella.

Was this… the miraculous connection Adrien spoke about? The love coming off the picture made his heart speed up. His green eyes were locked on the painting, feeling his injuries tingle slightly. He shook his head, making a mental note to add that to the list of questions. Turning, he started down the stairs again. Stepping down into the entrance hall and he felt at home immediately, unlike his home back in his time.

Looking around it wasn’t sterile and white like his mansion, the floor was chocolate brown hard wood floors, the walls were a comforting cream colour, and a long rug ran from the front door through the large hallway. One big archway to the left lead to the lounge where he had taken Marinette before, while another swinging door to the right, under the stairs lead to their kitchen.

The front door was a large, dark hard wood with patterns carved into it, with two slim windows on either side with cream curtains pulled back from them, but what stood out were the several dead bolts and other locks on the door, and that there was no mail slot. Weird.

He headed into the lounge, smiling when he saw Marinette asleep on the couch, the fireplace blazing softly in the background. He walked over and sat down on the floor by her head, stroking some hair from her pale face, hoping she wouldn’t wake up. She needed the rest. He still couldn’t believe the girl he had loved for all these years was Marinette. One of his best friends. He needed to snap out of it, the thoughts too much for him.

He looked around at the lounge to distract himself, it was even bigger than he had thought last night, two large dark blue sofas were placed perfectly, two recliner chairs placed nicely, one more used than the other with a green hoodie on it, the flat screen tv hanging over the fireplace, the walls a soft brown colour and the windows covered the one wall again, looking onto the garden. Behind the Main sofa was a larger area, a homely dining room table sat perfectly, a wall of books surrounding the other two walls. He saw so many books about fashion, nothing perfect in the library and all mismatched, knowing it was Marinette’s more than his. He felt the soft carpet under his hands, feeling comforted by how at home everything made him feel.

Was this what a family home was meant to feel like? He had seen his friends’ houses before, and had wished for what they had, but seeing this home, his home, made him have hope that one day this could be his.

Marinette walked in with a plate of pastries and placed it on the coffee table, placing a can of diet coke next to it.

“Here you go, Adrien, you need to eat.” She said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smiling gently. She sat down on less used recliner armchair and pulled her phone out, she looked like she was anxious about something as she typed away and put it next to her.

“Everything okay?” Adrien asked as he grabbed a pastry, taking a bite. Oh wow! These were incredible!

“I haven’t heard from Adrien in a few hours.” She stated, looking down at her hands, “I’m starting to get worried, usually he would check in with me.” She sighed, looking at her phone again. “I think I may need to go find him soon.”

“Why did he leave anyway?” Adrien asked, his brows furrowed.

“He… We think we know who the villain is.” Marinette said, avoiding looking at him, “and it… it’s hard for him. It’s his family, he just thinks they’re cursed. Last time we fought him it… almost killed us.” She looked at nothing, “Adrien lost something in the last battle…” She wore a look that made his hair stand up. “Adrien… He…” she sighed, dropping her head, “he lost a part of himself in that battle. He had lost so much already, after his father-”

“What? His father?” Adrien sat up, looking over at Marinette, “What happened to my father?”

Marinette looked up in shock, blinking, “you-you don’t know?”

“Know what?” He asked, pushing up on his hands, “what happened to my father?”

She opened her mouth to talk but was interrupted by the back French doors blowing open, making all of them jump. Chat noir stalked in, closing the door and detransforming before Adrien could get a proper look at him. He walked in, a serious look on his face, his blonde hair messy and wet, his green eyes dark. He was dressed in blue jeans, a black short sleeve shirt, and wore black converse. He walked in and looked at everyone, eyes falling on his wife.

“Are you okay? Has anything happened?” He asked, walking over to Marinette as she stood up and jumped on him, his arms enveloping her in a big hug. Adrien could feel their love, it radiated throughout the room and lifted the mood. That was until Marinette spoke.

“Where the hell were you?” She exclaimed, pulling away and pushing his chest, “you can’t just leave! You know that you can’t do that!” She had tears in her eyes, “you could have been dead, or attacked and I wouldn’t have known! You turned your tracker off too! I couldn’t find you!” She pushed him again, tears streaming down her face. “Look at them!” she pointed at the two teenagers, one unconscious and the other severely injured and looking confused, “what would I do if you were attacked! How would I DEFEND them both if we were attacked!?” He looked back at her speechless, obviously as shocked as his younger self was.

“I-“ He stammered.

“No! You don’t get to make any excuses, you stupid cat! We are in danger! I need my partner here! I need to know you have my back!” She was crying now, he wondered if she was scared and that’s why she was lashing out at Adrien. His older self just stared back at her, his eyes sad. “You can’t just leave me like that.”

He wrapped her up in his arms, whispering something that Adrien couldn’t hear, turning away from them and looking at his Marinette who was still fast asleep, only now her brows were burrowed and she looked like she was in pain.

“Marinette?” He questioned, the adults looking over too. “Marinette? Wake up!” She started whimpering, her legs twitching as if she were running. “Marinette!”

oOo

“Ladybug!” His screams echoing her mind, she could feel his desperation in his voice, but she felt like she was floating, why was this a bad situation? Everything was going by her so quickly, what was happening? “No!” Why was he so upset? They were just flying, it’s ok, he would catch her like he always did. She trusted him. He looked so cute when he was worried, why did he look so cute? He was Adrien, that’s why, but also because he was chat. Her two favourite people in one.

Suddenly she wasn’t falling, a hard surface stopping her, but there wasn’t any pain, only arms around her. She blinked the blurriness away and looked up at Chat, tears were streaming down his cheeks, falling onto her face. She felt the wetness. He looked terrified. What was wrong? She felt happy, he was holding her like his princess, and she felt like she was in heaven in his arms. But as she smiled up at him, darkness started taking over slowly. “Chat… It’s ok. You caught me.” Darkness took over as she went limp in his arms, her long hair falling into a muddy puddle, soaked from the rain.

“Ladybug, no! Wake up!” Chat begged, how could she still hear him? She was trying to sleep. He collapsed to his knees as he cradled her close to his chest, sobbing softly and shaking her softly. “Please… Marinette… Don’t leave me alone…”

Leave him alone? He wasn’t alone, she was only sleeping, the silly cat. Where was the alley cat she loved?

Loved.

That’s a funny word. Did she love him? What was she saying, of course she did! She always loved Adrien, but knowing he was Chat Noir, that made everything better!

“Please… I need you.”

And with that Marinette woke up with a gasp, sitting straight up and taking in her surroundings. The first thing she saw was Adrien’s battered and bruised face before her, worry all over it and his eyes searching her face. Wasn’t she just dreaming of him? She couldn’t remember. Why was he here? And what happened to him? He was speaking but she still was trying to figure out what was going on. She looked around, taking in her bearings, Adrien pushing her back down softly, looking up at the raindrop lights that hang high above her. She still hadn’t gained her hearing back, her eyes looking back at Adrien.

He was still talking to her, stroking her cheek and trying to get her to hear him. But she just furrowed her brows and reached out, stroking his cheek, thumb running under his swollen black and purple eye, brushing some of the crusted blood off. He winced but had more of a shocked look on his face. What happened to him? She thought to herself, frowning as she felt a tingle, she turned her attention to her body, her eyes widening and her memory, hearing and pain coming back at once. Her hands flew to cover her face and she curled up in pain, groaning softly.

She felt large hands on her back and could finally hear his words, “Marinette! What’s wrong? Is it the pain? Talk to me, please!” She could hear the desperation in his voice even over the ringing in her ears. She winced as she felt a needle go into the top of her arm, but almost instantly the pain faded and her body, that she had no clue was tensed, relaxed. She was rolled onto her back by the big hands which stayed on her side as Adrien leant over her, she opened her eyes and moved her hands, meeting his eyes. Blush covered her face, his green eyes were solely focused on her, full of concern and never leaving her face.

Wait… Adrien…

Her eyes widening, she felt her mind go into over drive, “Adrien!?” She squeaked, covering her face again. Adrien was Chat Noir! Adrien!!! This couldn’t be real! He was Chat Noir! How could he be Chat Noir?

Adrien looked at her nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he pushed off from over her and sat on the coffee table, “y-yeah, it’s me.” He stammered out, “it’s okay if you’re disappointed.” He said looking away. Disappointed? Why would she be disappointed it was him?

“N-no!” She exclaimed, peaking from behind her hands, “I’m not disappointed, I just… I didn’t expect it to be… you!”

He blinked, “Okay? Is that… bad?” Before she could answer she felt a shooting pain in her stomach, wincing and looking down she saw some blood spreading on her abdomen. “Marinette!” Adrien exclaimed, hands going to put pressure on her stomach, looking back at the adults who Marinette hadn’t even noticed. They jumped into action, running over with a first aid kit, cutting the bandage open, Adrien moved to where her head was, smiling down at her calmingly. “Hey, just look at me, it’s ok, it’s all going to be ok, m’lady.” He must have seen the panic in her eyes, so she just nodded, letting them patch her back up, just looking into Adrien’s eyes, letting him calm her with his jokes and comments, thankful for the pain killers.

oOo

“So what do we do now?” Marinette asked softly, she was finally sitting up, still pale but looking better. Her long blunette hair that was in a mess down her back, in desperate need for a brush, dark circles under her eyes, she was freshly bandaged up all over, a huge bruise covering her whole left side of her jaw, stitches across her cheek where her gash was under a plaster. She had a blanket around her, Adrien sitting close, his arm around her protectively, not letting anyone or anything close to her.

Marinette smiled at how protective he was of her younger self, it reminded her so much of her own husband who stood close, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the fireplace. Alix had woken up, sprawled out casually on the other couch playing on a tablet.

“Well, you will need training, but we can’t do any of that until you have both healed.” Adrien replied, looking over at them finally. “But, we also need to be careful about the past.” Adrien said, taking control much to Marinette’s relief. She wasn’t over being angry with him yet. Stupid cat. She huffed, Adrien side glancing her. “We can’t change anything in the future.”

“Well, I’m not sure that will be an issue, kitty.” Alix spoke up, everyone looking at her, “it seems that when Shadow Blanc went back in time he changed everything, he didn’t go back to our past necessarily, when I was there I noticed some… differences.” She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the couch. “For one, Daddy Gabe is a free man.” This made Adrien stiffen, looking at his younger self.

“Wait, what? Gabriel is still free?” He asked, dropping his arm and clenching his fists. Marinette looked over at him, biting her lip, “How is that possible? We caught him when we were 17! How old are you two?”

“Eighteen.”

“Nineteen. What does my father have to do with any of this?” The young boy looked utterly confused.

“If they are that age then why haven’t they stopped him yet?” Adrien asked Alix who shrugged, “Why haven’t you stopped Hawkmoth?” He turned to them now, his eyebrows furrowed.

The young boy broadened his chest and shoulder, almost in a defensive way, his brows furrowing. “We did!” He argued, “We stopped her! She is in jail!”

This made all three of the adults freeze and look at them. “Her?”

“Yeah,” younger Marinette spoke up softly, “we stopped Lila last year, finally. Master Fu took her miraculous and locked it away.” She looked up at Adrien who was still on the offense.

“Wait, Lila was Hawkmoth?” Alix asked, looking at the older two, “how is that possible? She didn’t get the miraculous until after Hawkmoth was in prison?”

“Can we go back to the part where you mentioned my father?” Adrien piped up, standing with his fists clenched. “What happened to my father?”

Marinette stepped forward, “Adrien, calm down. We don’t know your timeline, but…” She looked at her husband for help.

“He was Hawkmoth.” Adrien stated, looking down in disgust. “It was him, all along. All those years of akumas, all the lies and pain, it was all him.”

Marinette looked over at the young man, his eyes wide, colour draining from his face, “Adrien, we don’t know anything about your father, though.” She reassured him, “this is just the Hawkmoth from our past.” Adrien nodded, sitting back down slowly, his partner placing a hand on his thigh and looking up at him worriedly.

“Okay, so training?” Her younger self spoke up, the confidence back in her voice. “What will the training be?”

“We need to teach you to the way of the Miraculous.” Adrien said, walking over to the bookcase and pulling out an old book. He walked back and placed it in front of the young adults.

“But we know how to be Ladybug and Chat Noir?” Marinette questioned.

“Yes, you do, but you have powers that you need to unlock, you will be trained in the ways of the miraculous and unlock your full potential. Your powers will grow, and you two will become ying and yang, just like the black cat and ladybug miraculouses are meant to be. They are made from the same whole. Two sides of a coin.” Marinette described, opening the old spell book onto the page of Chat noir and Ladybug, Adrien’s eyes widening. “You two cannot work with out the other. Where there is destruction there is creation, where there is creation there is destruction.” She explained, gesturing with her hands.

“For you two to be the best team possible you will need to work like ying and yang.” Adrien looked at them seriously, “we had years to train, we built it over time, we had times we had to push extra hard, but it is possible. It will be extremely… taxing though.” Marinette shared a look with her husband, “mentally, spiritually and physically. Your bond will grow, and your powers will change with it.”

“How?” Marinette asked, her brows furrowed, the two looked very confused and slightly nervous.

Marinette chuckled softly, “it’ll be different for you, it’s different for each Ladybug and Chat Noir. But we can discuss this more once you two are healed up.” She smiled reassuringly at them. “For now though, you both need to rest and heal. I will help you with that, I cant fully heal you but I can help you along.” She explained.

“Wait, you can heal people? Without using your miraculous ladybugs?” Younger Marinette asked softly, furrowing her brows in confusion.

“Yeah she can, its one of her powers that she discovered, but it isn’t a miracle cure. It does have it’s… consequences.” Adrien replied to her question, looking away from them, darkness covering his face. Marinette knew why he seemed upset, it’s because he knew what it did to her to use it too much, he hated her using it but he knew just as she did that she had to use it.

“What kind of consequences?” The younger Adrien asked, Marinette looking back at the young adults, noticing the frown on his face.

“Don’t worry about that,” Marinette reassured softly, smiling small, “let me deal with that, we need to get you two out of the woods and on the road to a quick recovery so that we can start the physical part of your training.” Adrien sighed next to her and turned, walking out of the lounge through a door next to the bookcase, Plagg following close behind. Alix raised her eyebrow and looked over at Marinette for some kind of answer. Marinette sighed and shook her head at Alix.

The two youngsters were looking at the door in confusion until younger Marinette suddenly started shivering and winced in pain, her head dropping onto Adrien’s chest, her eyes closed and her eyebrows screwed up in pain. Younger Adrien’s expression changed to panic as he pulled her closer, stroking her cheek gently. “Marinette?” He asked in concern, eyes examining her paling face. “She is really warm!” Marinette rushed over and help her hand against her head, she was boiling and sweat was accumulating on her forehead.

“She’s burning up, we need to do this now.” Marinette stated simply, removing the blanket. “Adrien!” She called out to her disgruntled husband; she knew he wasn’t happy about this but she needed him now. “We need to do this now! I need your help!” As she finished talking Adrien stalked in, concern all over his face. “Take her to the spare room, we can let her rest after.” She said, motioning for the young boy to let go of her, which he did hesitantly as Adrien picked her up gently bridal style like she weighed nothing, rushing her to the spare room, Marinette behind him with Alix helping the younger boy get there.

oOo

Adrien lay the small girl on the same bed he had put his younger self earlier that morning, she was pale, very pale. He looked over at his wife who was taking deep breaths. “Are you sure you can handle this?” He asked sternly, taking her hand as the younger Adrien was led in and went straight to his partners side, holding her hand and stroking her forehead.

“I have no choice.” She stated before Tikki flew over. “Tikki, spots on!” The familiar red glow filled the room, fading and there stood is magnificent partner. She had changed as Ladybug over the years, long black like gloves went from the middle of her upper arms, one single red dot on each of the insides of her palms. Her yoyo hung the same around her waist like normal but a second one hung across the other side as her second weapon, her body more developed to when she first became ladybug, her hips wider, her strong muscles could be seen through the suit, and she filled the suit perfectly. Like her arms she now had black down her legs from midthigh down to her feet. The soles of her feet were still red. Her pigtails were long gone and her hair was a little short, curled around her ears slightly as it hung loose. She opened her eyes, Adrien seeing the look of determination on her face that made him first fall in love with her. He looked over at his younger self, who’s eyes were wide as he stared at her. He knew what was going through his head, when he remembers his young partner he is always in awe of her now.

Ladybug walked over and sat next to Marinette, “Marinette, I need you to stay still. This is going to hurt.” She warned, looking at the young boy next to her, “hold her down.” He nodded and held her arms down as Ladybug stood up, taking a deep breath. Adrien stroked his wife’s shoulder in reassurance, seeing her relax slightly. “Miracle heal!” She called out, her spots on her palms glowing red, she looked at Marinette before placing her hands on her stomach. Marinette’s eyes flew open and she let out a scream that made everyone wince and run to hold her down, everyone but Ladybug who had her eyes closed as she concentrated. This only lasted around 20 seconds and then Marinette relaxed and Ladybug stepped back as if she had been burnt. Adrien rushed to her and placed his hands on her shoulders stabilizing her.

Shit. He knew this was bad when he saw the pain on her face. “Keep Marinette rested, stay here.” He ordered as he scooped up his small wife as she detransformed. “Do not follow me.” He stated, heading out and into their bedroom. He lay her on their bed and pulled open her bedside table, pulling out a round medallion and sat on the bed. He placed it on her chest, watching it start to glow softly, Marinette was watching him with a small smile.

“Hey.” She said softly, placing a hand on his cheek, “you will get frown lines if you keep that face on.” She chuckled.

He snorted a laugh and kissed her palm. “You need to take care of yourself, you held on for too long.” He said with a defeated sigh, dropping forehead onto her stomach. “You know the rules.”

She chuckled softly, stroking his blonde hair, “I know, but you couldn’t feel how bad those wounds were. I had to help.”

“That’s the problem, Marinette, you will help at your own cost.” He replied.

“Adrien, it’s the right thing to do, and you know it.” Adrien just looked at her before sighing an dropping his head down again in defeat, her chuckling softly.

oOo

Adrien watched as Marinette lay staring at the ceiling as his older self whisked his wife away. He slowly let go of her arms and sat next to her, stroking her hair out of her face. She reached up and touched the bandage on her cheek, he wondered what she was doing. He watched as she pulled the bandage off, his brows furrowed. That was when he blinked and sat up more, his eyes widening.

“Marinette…” He breathed, his hand hovering over her cheek as the stitches that were in her once cut up cheek fell off her cheek and onto the bed next to her. How did that happen? She felt her now smooth skin and blinked. “How is that…” He breathed again. He then sat up and looked to her torso, eyes darting back to hers for a second. With gentle hands he reached down and tore the bandage with ease, pulling it back slowly to reveal her stomach looking a lot better, the wound was still there but again the stitches were out and laying on her stomach. He felt his breath getting faster, the wound looked just like a long thin minor cut now from right side of her ribs to her left hip bone, the burns were just pink marks decorating her stomach, all the other small cuts gone as well. He looked at her arms and saw not all but most of her wounds were gone, the ones that remained were there but not too serious.

“Damn. I knew she could do it but I have never seen her do it in person before, and to this level.” Alix piped up with an amazed chuckle, walking over and looking the young girl over.

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked as he pulled the fluffy blanket over Marinette, still in shock.

“after their last big fight,” Alix started, “Ladybug and Chat Noir were pretty banged up, well that’s an understatement, they were fucked up.” She explained walking around, looking at the room around her. “It was a few years back, their last major battle, hell maybe their last akuma battle all together since. Chat took a blast to the chest for Ladybug, he got a giant piece of fuck knows in his chest, she dragged him away and voila! New power. Never been heard of with any of the other ladybugs, heals him right then and there, pulls this thing out of his chest, totally insane!” She exclaimed, a huge grin on her face, “they had no clue what was going on, one minute he’s dying, next he’s sitting up, covered in blood from closed cuts! Insane right? Gets even more insane, his suit was ripped to shreds, and then it just… grew back!” Adrien and Marinette looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “But…” Alix’s smile faltered, “it comes at a price, so it’s never a good idea to use it in the middle of a fight…” she paused, “but they didn’t know that.”

Marinette grabbed onto Adrien’s arm, making him jump and look at her, she wanted help up so he hugged her under her arms and raised her gently, resting her on the pillows and pulling the blanket up again to cover her bra, sitting next to her with a wince. He looked back at Alix and then suddenly felt soft skin against his hand, he looked down and Marinette was holding onto his blood stained thumb, his cheeks flushed and he then looked over at her, she was looking at Alix, her cheeks red, but she also looked frightened.

“They went back up, Chat full of confidence and ready to jump in front of anything to protect his bug because he thought he was indestructible.” She flicked one of the medals, “he wasn’t.”

oOo

“Chat, you have to be more careful!” Ladybug screamed, coughing and fanning away the dust surrounding them, Chat had a slice down his arm and he was leant against the wall, holding it in pain, coughing too. She was furious, why did she feel so weak? “We don’t know if this is a one time thing! What if you get hit and I cant heal you! Huh?” She stormed over to him and smacked him across the shoulder, trying to wipe the dirt from her face to see better.

“Ladybug I’m fine, I know you can heal me, it’s my job to protect you!” He exclaimed, pushing up and bending his arm, watching as his suit grew over the wound again and the pain fading, that was his magic this time, not hers. “Look, this is a minor set back-”

“Minor fucking set back?” She screamed, pointing out the fact they were in a collapsed building, trapped. “You have used your cataclysm, I’ve used my lucky charm. 9 times each!” She started pacing, her head felt funny, why did her head feel funny? It must be the dust. It has to be. Chat look annoyed and just sighed, “Chat this is-” before she could say anything something crashed through the wall, hitting her in the back and slammed her down, pain was all she felt, not the three floors she went through before she hit the ground and skid on the dusty tile into the street. She heard ringing only, she couldn’t breathe, something was in her back, and she couldn’t see.

Light was what she saw first, then the ringing stopped, she couldn’t move. She needed to move, why couldn’t she move? Then her sense of feel came back, and it was a hand on her back, then pain as the pressure left her back, making her gasp and her vision to hit her like a tonne of bricks. She saw panic, people were running, dust falling to the ground, she also heard a weird groaning noise? She tried to focus and realised it was her. She was making that noise, like a dying whale.

“Marinette!” Chat? What was happening, why was he saying my real name? “I’m so sorry, please please, don’t leave me! Please, this is all my fault! Marinette!!!” His last scream woke her right up and she gasped, rolling onto her back and screaming in pain. Her palms suddenly lit up, and the pain started to get worse, then suddenly it faded enough for all of her senses to come back normally and the groaning stopped. Chat was crying, holding her black gloved hand, blood covering the once side of his face from a cut on his forehead. “I’m sorry… I had to… She… She was… She was going to kill you!” What was he talking about? That was when she looked to the right, there lay a dead body, blackened, the hair singed off… Lila. “She… I had to” He sobbed. He killed her. To save Marinette. He made the ultimate sacrifice. She suddenly noticed she was wet, lifting her hands she saw she was lying in blood. She was still injured?

“We need to get out of here…” Suddenly ladybugs flew all around them, fixing Paris around them and swirled around them, but didn’t touch them. They both looked around in confusion. “Get us out of here. Now.” She said, fear creeping in. Chat nodded, wiping his nose before he grabbed a flag from a now fixed pole nearby, strapping her in it securely to make sure she didn’t move unnecessarily. He hoisted her up and pole vaulted away.

Once he got to their shared apartment he laid her on the dining room table, his transformation falling as he ran to get water and towels, digging out the first aid kit. Marinette watched him, scared to move, even though her body was numb. He ran back and gave her a look, she gulped and let her transformation fall, blood soaking into the oak table. Plagg caught Tikki and flew away, Marinette grabbed the edges of the table and gritted her teeth. Adrien came back over, his face paling, tears still wet on his cheeks. “Marinette? Can you hear me?” She nodded, that was all he needed, he took the scissors from the med kit and cut her top and bra off down the middle and at her arms and pulled it off, lifting her softly and pulling it from under her back and when he looked at her chest he froze. She wondered why.

“What?” She whispered.

“Mari…” He gulped, “You… your…” He covered his mouth, his legs giving way as he collapsed against the wall, tears streaming down his face.

oOo

“You see… Her power works, she heals, but she doesn’t as well. She just takes them on.” Alix stated, looking over at them sadly.

26 notes · View notes

mantrabay · 3 years

Text

Saturday an overarching day that's both conduit and shelter for souls in transition.

Thoughts of the more disturbing kind and their covert operations intrude even in our leisure time.

Little did I know what lay ahead.

All these scenarios flashed across my mind as the wheels of my car screeched to a halt.

Shafts of radiant sunlight revealed an embroidered placard.

A cryptic but apocryphal question -

Going somewhere?

Light green brush strokes and entwined leaves garnished the borders of this plaque.

A hitchhiker appeared with the most expressive eyes.

Like shining windows openly admitting the rush of a golden dawn.

A rippling nuanced voice spoke.

“Hello, I'm Lelia. Life is a series of stops

and strange encounters.

A journey of some kind.”

Thought-provoking stuff!

She extended her supple skin right hand.

“Hop in.

I'm Joshua King. Going anywhere in particular?"

I enquired archly after the ritual handshake.

"Besides going somewhere or nowhere in particular.”

I continued.

"In one sense I'm not sure. But there is this place we should all go to.

You'll know what I mean later.”

Lelia mysteriously.

"Not to worry.

Travel is therapy for me."

What made me, Joshua King , say that?

The mind can be overpopulated with figments.

Frustrated figments waiting for that freedom dash.

Some have the seeds of alternative visions.

A svelte lady wearing an azure blue padded jacket and sea blue denims glided gracefully into my car.

Hatha yoga asana entry.

My pinstripe attire seemed conventional.

It was at odds with this philosophical journey man.

"Love the aroma ....air freshener.

Orchard in a vehicle tantalising nostrils.

Symbol of attempted purge."

Her voice dropped a few keys to a lower register.

Redolent of metaphysics classes I had to abandon.

I was naive enough to believe that attending these courses would fix my “issues.”

They were more than just momentary bugs.

They couldn't be spray canned away.

I was, however, adept at avoiding their resolution.

Draft dodger or fugitive adept.

My “issues” were other "selves.”

I called them timid, anxious, fidgety,scrupulous withdrawn.

“What’s more I chat to them.

Under my breath. These chats I call the "whispers.”

Will Lelia notice?

Will she spot them?"

My twin brother Jonah, a twin in every sense could point out my tendency to flee.

We spot each other’s flaws with aplomb.

The twinning of tortured psyches.

Banter between mirror images of real selves!

Jonah was an integral part of these "whispers" too!

All these thoughts were doing hula hoops in my head as Lelia made herself comfortable.

In the process peculiarities surfaced which seemed more than the usual passing quirks.

"I'm Lelia, again. Don't forget. You probably won't.

This place I alluded to is but a distance from here.

Distance is a gulf whose magnitude is shaped by it's smoothness of passage.

Or the fate that awaits one at journey’s end.

My destination is another world altogether."

A lady who could structure her sentences with the adroitness of a cryptic crossword clue setter.

Tapping me on the shoulder at the most obscure angle she extended her hand again.

Her fingers and thumb spatially arranged with the tutored

stillness of a TM Guru.

Was that repetition a neurotic oddity or a symptom of a deeper malaise?

I nodded to the said hand gesture.

We both brushed this bizarre incident off as it had no instant moment.

It seemed as if I was talking to someone quite out of the ordinary.

The spot on asides and the strict avoidance of that verbal litter referred to as small talk suggested as much.

Pauses. They did surface periodically.

The silence was then punctuated by a sudden remark.

"All those conifers. Look at how they reach out to the sky.”

This was just the start of one of Lelia’s poetic observations.

“They seem so close yet isolated.

There is something almost within their grasp.

Almost.”

Lelia nonplussed.

“See the adjoining fields. The green is but a cover. They are as neighbours in a high rise flat.

One could say they are both connected and disconnected at the same time.

As for those dips in the valleys? Well, they could signify some sort of rise and fall."

Lelia resting her case momentarily.

“A resurrection. After the fall.

Oh the Lazarus within us all."

Joshua deadpanned.

“I'm a bit of a writer and maths researcher.”

I proffered.

"Recluses some say.

Oh, I didn't mean you

Necessarily.”

Ouch, said my shattered Id.

Lelia, archer of the scar inflicting verbal.

Bow and arrow baroness of stinging broadsides.

This offshoot to our conversation was infused with a wry allusion.

Insight on a whim. Fleeting.

We both laughed at the incongruity of a conversation that had become very elliptical in form.

Tangents cropped up as impetus to the other person's willingness to reveal themselves.

Lelia didn't exactly volunteer her vocation but left clues.

“You didn't say what you did?

Student ...essayist ...author."

Me sounding Lelia out.

“Oh no children….dashing right across the road in front of us.

Squealing with delight. Whoops of innocent joy? They are sticking out their tongues now!”

Hair-raising moment I hadn't anticipated.

I spied Lelia sticking her tongue out at those reckless varmints.

She stopped the minute I noticed.

“Children …….sometimes you have to act like a kid when dealing with kids."

Straight and to the point from this hitchhiker.

She now resumed the thread of an earlier topic.

“Work ….you asked about work.

I sort of work and play with the mind.

Play act too.”

A retort of sudoku like complexity.

As I digested lelia’s response it dawned on me how much like people my "selves”were.

Even when driving I "dialogued” those various aspects.

“You've an interesting face. The face is like a map, I say.

Heard you mutter about your "selves."

Leslie being cheeky..

Silence as challenge started to creep in.

Russian roulette within the rules.

“Watch your driving, there." Lelia in a more down to earth tone.

Her different voices now somersaulting..

“Very quite aren't we, Josh?"

Josh mark you!

Sounding me out like an interrogator trying to crack a stubborn suspect.

Without a word of warning Lelia raised her voice and got into a tantrum.

“What's the matter ….lost something ?”

Joshua said anxiously.

A curious search resembling a scrum ensued.

Then more silence..

I craned my neck and spotted an uncanny regression.

Lelia talking to herself in a child like manner and then changing tack..

“Don't worry. Found what I was looking for.”

Another void.

A tense lull. A little lockjaw appears when the juice runs out of discourse.

I squinted in the mirror once more.

This time Lelia was talking to her palm..

Staring vacantly at it she kept repeating the name Linda.

Lelia continued oblivious to what I saw or might be thinking.

She hummed this strange lullaby..

Suddenly my "selves" surfaced in an uncontrollable flurry.

I tried to suppress them but failed abysmally.

The "whispers and selves" started to have a life of their own.

This car is getting a bit crowded.

It's being converted into a train with fantasy passengers on board.

The sort one hears late at night hurtling through the countryside with dim lights flickering.

Both inside and outside this vehicle a tumult of events was taking place.

Out of the blue the rain poured heavily.

“The gods or the elements must be cross or something.” Lelia opined.

“Let’s get introduced to my playmate in a palm.

Linda, these are Joshua’s true other selves.”

Lelia chuckling.

A comic situation arose where I changed my voice for each of my "selves" by way of introduction.

My great powers of concentration helped while driving.

"Pleased to meet you, Linda.”

Lelia altered her voice when teasing all my "selves."

She had some experience as a ventriloquist.

But Lelia was having this hypnotic effect too.

I was being manipulated.

One by one my highly personalised complexes were being extracted and subject to a rigorous grilling.

This was some hitchhiker.

Was this car journey now becoming a high rent farce or a mock therapy session from an amateur shrink?

The rain continued to lash and my other "selves" felt like the last sting of a dying wasp.

A certain lightness ensued.

Almost as if my “aspects” were floating away.

For the first time my "other selves“ didn't seem to have this grip on me.

But deep down I knew I wanted to keep a little of them.

Although they were a burden they did have their positive aspects.

“Jonah … he still bugs doesn't he.

He’s almost like one of those "other selves!"

The "whispers" I heard earlier … I've a very delicate ear.

Those under the breath "whispers" gave the game away.

The names and complex relations between them."

Lelia now probing very deeply.

The wind howled and the rain splashed across the bonnet like seafront waves.

There was a warped synchronicity..

As my complexes receded so did the thunderous weather.

They were working in tandem.

“Wash it all away. Come on, come on

See me waving my wand.”

Lelia chanted.

The Exorcist film had nothing on this.

Before his very eyes Joshua's "reticence" and the other "selves" were disappearing virtually.

Against the backdrop of all this inner and outer ferment Lelia kept looking out the window.

Was that this home she mentioned earlier getting closer as Joshua was

"going home” to himself?

“Windows are amazing.

They show us the world but sometimes screen us from it.”

Lelia wiping

fog from the car window.

“Trees and branches swaying. Clouds darkening.

Thickening ominously.

Exodus of pedestrians seeking answers.”

Her voice penetrating Joshua.

“Am I being cleansed of what they call inner demons?"

Joshua panic stricken.

"This other worldly person has me spellbound.

There's a chessboard in this moving vehicle.

A total stranger has me in her palm.” .

Lelia assumed various postures.

As Joshua was the driver she didn't want to send him to sleep.

Lelia's voice was either a hypnotist's drone or excited sports commentator.

Joshua could never forget this encounter.

“Don't forget Jonah too. Joshua wherever he might be.”

Her sinister tone rising.

“The name on your credit card.

I found it earlier when searching for my script.

Joshua Jonah king.”

Joshua confessed he was an only child.

“Am I a prisoner?.

Must button my lip.

I'm being freed and incarcerated by this person, the likes of whom I've never met before.”

Joshua felt this final therapeutic process coursing through him.

Very little was left of his "selves", “whispers.”

Joshua drove through a stoically preserved area whose haunting nature was blurred by this encounter.

“Terrible to have all these half worlds revealed with such clinical accuracy.”

Joshua to himself.

Lelia's voice gradually lost its domineering tone.

At this point by accident or design the tense atmosphere eased.

“You are probably wondering where this is all going to end.

Maybe I have whispers, Jonah's and selves to face too.”

A casual Lelia random comment.

On this occasion a composite of adult confidence and infantile charm.

“Oh here we are, this place.

She stated.

Joshua had undergone a sea change catharsis due to the “selves” and “whispers” being evacuated.

“Should I thank this lady or what? I’ll never be the same again but is that for the right reason?

Jonah my make-believe twin. Don't really need him do I?”

Joshua pondered.

“Back to earth my dear.

This is where we shake hands and part.”

Lelia again.

“Better change the name on that credit card.

Keeping stuff like that from credit card companies could land you in trouble.’

A cackle from Lelia this time.

“See that building. That's what I meant early on.

It's called Another World School of Acting.”

Lelia alighted and pointed to this centre.

"Acting is therapy. That's their motto.

Therapy in every sense!

But you don't want to take every word I say literally do you?

Forgot to mention they are auditioning for a play.

It's called “Inside The Split Mind." She said.

"Wonder will I get the part?”

As she leant over to shake hands her eyes had a certain lost look about them.

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aqvarius · 4 years

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Masquerade Kiss: Do Bad Girls Like to Self-pleasure? Kazuomi Shido - otona love - chapter 4 summary/translation

in case you missed it, you can read the previous chapter here or check out my translations page to read from the start.

is it just me or have we never seen this background before?

the reason for that is because it’s the day of your day off and you’re setting off in a hot air balloon. you thought you’d be taking the private jet as usual, but it turns out it was diagonally upwards (no idea what she’s actually trying to say here, maybe that you’re going diagonally upwards in a balloon rather than jetting off down a runway and taking off).

kazuomi says that the place you’re going to can only be reached by balloon. a place you can’t go to without a balloon...? you’ve never heard of something like that

“it’s an island that doesn’t admit transportation other than balloons”

(bro how rich do you have to be to become part of a rich people club where you learn about an island that only allows balloons. next we’re gonna learn that kazu is part of a club where they hunt man for sport)

kazu says that the owner changed and boats and jets aren’t allowed, and then he comments that you look like you want to say “that’s weird”.

you: “by the way, this balloon... has the “SHIBA company” logo

“yeah. i borrowed yuzu’s [balloon]”

THE FACT THAT YUZURU CASUALLY HAS A HOT AIR BALLOON... AND NOT JUST HIS OWN ONE BUT IT’S A COMPANY BALLOON ALSDKFJSL. i like how we sometimes think yuzu is so bland and minimalist but then he’s literally just as extra as kazuomi and kei but in his own equally ridiculous way.

kazuomi thinks “balloon huh... you don’t get that many opportunities to ride one*, so when yuzu recommended/offered it, i thought it would be good”

*i’m not sure if he’s saying that you don’t get that many opportunities to ride a balloon or if he himself doesn’t (since there are like no pronouns lmao!!) but i think he’s talking about you since everything he does is for you~ also cause he basically slates balloons in the next slide

“it’s slow and plain and most of all, the altitude is low”

“it’s good if we’re talking about being romantic, but honestly i prefer something more flashy”

“but mc is surprisingly enjoying the situation”

ughhhh the things he does for you!! 😍😭

you tell him that unlike with airplanes and helicopters, you can actually feel the wind which is so nice, and it’s so great that you can see the scenery without any distance/gap.

“you’ve been busy these days, haven’t you?” you ask. “sometimes it’s not bad to feel the wind like this, right?”

“i see, that’s one way of thinking about it,” kazuomi says.

you: “if i had to choose one, i’m surprised that shiba-san [is the one] who likes this [kind of thing]”

you say that you think he (shiba) would say that balloons are a waste of time. kazuomi replies that that guy is surprisingly a romantic, which is why he wanted a screw that had gone into outer space.

(wtf yuzu is so adorable.........)

anyway, the balloon goes to its destination with you, who seems to be having fun from start to finish.

when you land on the small island, you go to a log house purveyed by kei (more like.......perveyed....... sorry couldn’t help myself)

“...it’s so lovely! such a warm atmosphere,” you gush .

kazu says that kei said that it was just that it was spacious... seems like it really is so.

you exclaim that there’s a fireplace in the next room. kazuomi replies that there’s a fireplace here too. nearly all the rooms have one. you say something like that it won’t get cold at night then, and kazu adds that it’s a luxury to spend time listening to the sound of firewood. talking about sound makes kazuomi realise that the log house, with no music, is quiet for now. it’s almost silent because it’s far away from the other log houses.

“i can’t relax like this ... i wonder if mc is having fun”

you ask him, “hey, aren’t you feeling restless?”

“hm? no...” kazu says. he can’t help but smile wryly as you guess how he’s feeling.

“that kind of face...” you explain

you: “plus, i was sure you like brilliant and bustling places”

“you understand me well”

you: “it would take a lifetime to understand you completely”

maybe because it’s a quiet place, but your expression is calmer than usual. he likes hearing your small laugh, and he thinks that the quietness isn’t so bad.

“balloons, quiet log houses... none of it is very like you, but that’s why it’s fresh” you say.

you: “shido, thank you for bringing me [here]”

there was no reason for me to add a screenshot here but i just wanted to show that you really just call him shido.

both the balloon and the log house were loaned from, and proposed by, yuzu and kei.

“on the surface, they were amused with all their might, but i couldn’t help but appreciate the clumsy compassion of my mates*.”

*悪友たち can mean like bad friends/bad company but can also mean like partners in crime, close friends

“well... there are no interruptions here. what do you want [to do]?”

“we came here so i can indulge your every whim** for the whole day”

“anything is fine. i’ll grant any wish”

**literally listen to your selfishness

when the main subject comes up, you shake your head after thinking a little. “i don’t want you to do anything.”

“what did you say...?” kazuomi says.

you: “i don’t need anything. you bringing me here is enough”

you tell him there was a kitchen back there so you brewed some coffee.

“don’t need anything...?” kazuomi thinks. he stands up, seeing you off to the kitchen after your unexpected response. he can’t infer the true meaning captured in your words.

after that, the two of you drink the coffee you brewed and enjoy a dinner arranged by kei. he thinks that your profile as you gaze at the firewood in the fireplace looks peaceful and happy and wonders if this is the time you had wished for. he thought you wanted a more enriching time.

you put your cups down on the table at the same time and laugh. your faces naturally approach and your lips touch, and when they part, you laugh again.

“it’s been a while since we spent time like this,” you say. kazuomi agrees, saying that [you haven’t spent time like this] ever since he first visited your place. “stop joking,” you retort. “i didn’t get a moment of rest that time.” you tell him that you got cold sweats (from anxiety) at the thought of him coming to your place.

“and now?” kazu asks.

“now, well...” you say.

resting your head on his shoulder, he sees your eyes narrow gently as you gaze at the fireplace.

“i’m not troubled by you seeing me, i’m cool [with it]”

“then, i’ll come visit you again***”

***when kazuomi says またお邪魔しよう he means he’s going to “intrude” in on your place again (since people say “sorry for intruding” when they go to other people’s places)

you: let me know beforehand. i’ll get my parents to send over some jakoten.

basically they’re referring to that time in kazuomi’s lover obscura route when he came to his mc’s place for the first time and she was really anxious about him seeing her true self and afraid that he wouldn’t be into her bc her true self isn’t as sophisticated as “arisa”. she lied about being able to cook acqua pazza despite not actually being able to cook and instead made yasai itame, nikujaga and tamagoyaki and served miso soup and some side dishes, including jakoten (fried fish cakes) from her hometown (uwajima) that her parents sent, and kazuomi actually really liked jakoten haha.

“the sound of mc’s giggly laughter fills my heart and heals me.”

“pointless conversations, playful kisses, intertwined fingers... we haven’t done anything special, but this is enough.”

“it’s a good feeling ... i think it’s because i fell in love with mc”

i just want to interrupt here because this makes me so emotional ahhh. like kazu and his mc’s thing has always been about like challenging and playing games with each other and it’s always been about the thrill of the chase, so i just adore it when they’re just simple and wholesome and in love (esp when kazuomi is the one who we get to see being head over heels).

“falling in love, huh... i never thought the day would come when i would use that word”

this whole time, he thought it was his role to uncover**** your heart and body. however, without him even realising, you may have opened him up.

****the word used here is more like to unravel/loosen/relax. basically it’s referring to you know how kazuomi and his mc are always talking about like getting each other to open up/expose/reveal their true selves and intentions.

“i see,” kazuomi thinks. “we open up to each other and heal each other.” maybe that’s why you want to spend such an enriching time together.

the coffee that you brewed is still hot and kazuomi feels like he’s never had such delicious coffee before.

“doing nothing but sipping coffee in front of the fireplace ... that time is the most precious.”

“it’s delicious.” you say the same thing [as he was thinking] after drinking your coffee, face softening.

“it was already pitch black outside, but the inside of the log house was full of warmth and happiness.”

“...i see. so this is happiness”

(LOOK HOW SOFT HE IS AHHHHHH)

he places the cup down and hugs you from behind. placing a hand on his arm, you murmur while staring at the fireplace, telling him that he seems to be so busy lately, you didn’t want to push him too much... you avoided tiring him out as much as possible.

for the first time, kazuomi is unmistakably hearing the “true feelings”***** that you have hidden until now...

*****i chose to use this phrasing (alongside true intentions/face) here and in the previous chapter to try to convey the meaning as smoothly as possible through the context but you’d probably get a better sense of the meaning if you search “本音” or “honne”. essentially, it’s one’s true inner self/feelings that can’t necessarily be (and in fact is usually contrary to) one’s outward-facing societal/public persona (tatamae). it’s a recurring theme throughout kazuomi and his mc’s relationship (particularly in the earlier stages) as they are both trying to uncover each other’s real selves.

anyway i hope you enjoyed chapter 4! can’t believe we only have 2 chapters left to go, and i promise you that they get really steamy. but for now, i so enjoyed seeing kazuomi putting aside his own tastes to make you happy, and then realising that he’s so in love with you that even doing the simplest things with you give him bliss. it’s so rare that we get to see kazu being... not Excessive(tm)? he’s really just a man in love when it comes to you ;~~; also how cute is it that yuzu and kei give him so much shit but really try to help in any way they can when it comes down to it?

i’ve set up a ko-fi page here and would be incredibly grateful if you would like to support me for translations and being able to purchase more routes to recap in english!

click here for chapter 5

#kazuomi shido #voltage smut #masquerade kiss #otona love #otkoi #summary #translation #voltage #voltage inc #voltage otome #otome game #otome blog #otome romance #love 365 #love 365 find your story #悪女はセルフプレジャーがお好き？#マスカレード・キス〜危険な駆け引き〜

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mikaey43 · 4 years

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#16 A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

Rating: 4/5

Pages: 247 (with “An Appreciation” by Anna Quindlen, and additional content)

Publisher: Squarefish (an imprint of Macmillian)

(I shouldn’t make goals. I’m not good at keeping them. But I digress.) There are books I didn’t read as a kid. They didn’t appeal to me then. I can’t read it with the eyes of a child, but I can still read them. I decided to read the following book before news broke of its theatrical film adaptation—what reader doesn’t. This book has a simple plot, a good cast of characters, character development, and showcases an insight to the goodness of humanity. And above all, it has strong female characters. Not to say that the men are lacking, but it’s always refreshing to read about a girl who simply is. In any genre. I can’t wait to read the other books in this series: A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeline L’Engle.

The plot is simple: after not hearing from Mr. Murry since he went off to work on a top-secret experiment, the mysterious Mrs. Whatsit visits the Murry family one “dark and stormy night” and thrusts our main characters into a journey across the universe.

The story opens with Meg Murry, the eldest of the Murry children. She is the typical awkward mess who excels in the sciences and mathematics but fails in humanities. That is refreshing since usually intelligent female characters are written as being all-around, book-smart girls. It isn’t a bad thing but should not always be the case. Through her journey, Meg comes to understand that a person, even her scientist parents, have both strengths and shortcomings.

Then there’s the youngest and the most brilliant of the Murrys: Charles Wallace. At five years old, he is the most intellectual and wise. The town gossips about him, just as with his father. They presume that because he’s not particularly loquacious he therefore lacks intelligence. But Mrs. Whatsit directs herself to him not just as a mouthpiece but someone who will able to understand the complexity of their mission across the universe.

We also meet sixteen-year-old, Calvin O’Keefe. He is the compassionate son of a family who neglects him, a gifted junior at Meg’s school, and talented athlete. He shares the same gift as Charles Wallace but is more open where Charles is reserved. He is centered and level-headed. He joins them on their mission with no other reason than but that he was “meant” to be at the right time and place.

I don’t focus on too many characters, just those that I feel add significance to the story. I will touch as briefly as I can on Mr. and Mrs. Murry, Mrs. Whatsit, Which, and Who, since I believe they add necessary layers to what is usually a very one-tone genre for middle-grade.

In most young adult fiction, the young protagonist has free rein to push the boundaries as the parents are pushed to the outskirts of the plot. They are often shown as incompetent, not technologically savvy, or just plain “uncool.” In L’Engle’s story, we see not only competent parents with professional careers but who are idolized by their children. L’Engle presents Mr. and Mrs. Murry as what they really are: people. This is what frustrates Meg. She believes her parents are supposed to be different as opposed to the other adults. Meg knows they are a powerhouse couple: intelligent, handsome, and down-to-earth. They are scientists after all, they should be able to solve any kind of problem that comes their way. But they don’t have all the answers and apparently need rescuing too.

Mrs. Murry is a devoted stay-at-home mother and scientist who runs her lab from the basement. She has been somewhat of a “single mother” since her husband went to work on a top-secret assignment years ago. As she awaits her husband’s return, she continues their research, raising their children, all the while trying to find Mr. Murry. But her faith in her husband never waivers. Meg admires her for her strength of character, intelligence, and beauty. Mrs. Murry appears as an unreachable idol because Meg feels she will never attain that level of sophistication.

We know that Mr. Murry, like Mrs. Murry, is a scientist. He has been working on an experiment since Charles was a baby. It is rumored that he abandoned his family for another woman, but his family loves and respects him very much. They believe that he’s working on this experiment. He is thought of as a smart, loving, reasonable, and sensible man.

Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which are harder to explain. They appear from and disappear back to nothing. They are gentle and kind. They also seem to know a lot about human history and its most influential people. They can bend space and therefore transport themselves easily through large distances throughout the universe.

We find out that the “wrinkle in time” makes it possible to travel through space to other worlds. Through this type of travel, we visit four worlds in a “catch and release” fashion. Only visiting the worlds to pick up necessary information without really “exploring” it, but we do meet strange creatures. By the time we finally arrive at Camazotz, ready to explore the world, it turns out to be an imitation of our world. Only difference is that it is almost completely controlled by IT although, there are glimpses of inadvertent freethinkers.

While I usually spotlight a quote, I would like to focus instead on an idea: the examination of conformity versus uniqueness. The reader is warned about its dangers. Mrs. Murry tells Meg that “people are more than just the way they look” (54). This is the most evident in Mrs. Whatsit, Who, and Which. They are more than what they seem but adjusted their true selves since the children go by the preconceived notion of physical sight.

We also know that the trio—while unique—conform. Calvin, idolized by the town for his brilliance in both academics and sports, miserably conforms to his superficial image when he cannot authentically connect with anyone. The opposite goes for Charles. His intelligence is vastly superior to anyone in that town, but because he fears their rejection, he tolerates the town’s opinion that he’s intellectually slow. Finally, Meg tries and wishes she could conform but cannot mold into the small mind of the small town because of her logical, impatient, impulsive, and awkward personality. She is the question itself. Thankfully, the characters begin to deviate from the idea of how they are “seen” and toward how they want to be known. This begins with Mrs. Whatsit transformation to her original form and completed when she reveals that she is a star. This echoes the second part of Mrs. Murry’s explanation that the “difference isn’t physical. It’s in essence.” (54, my emphasis).

When the children travel to Camazotz, Meg physically sees how radical conformity for “normalcy” can get. Not just in appearances but the exact beat (ie: essence) to which the planet marches, plays, “thinks,” and lives. The inescapable humdrum of IT’s beat illustrates how enticing yet lamentable life is when one is programmed to sameness.

Meg must see beyond the physical into essential concepts to free Charles. A lesson Aunt Beast reminds her of before returning to Camazotz: “We look not at the things which are what you call seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporal. But the things which are not seen are eternal.” (205).

The question about conformity is answered. Meg decides to face the evil of “sameness” when IT tries to prove that “equal and alike” are indistinguishable. While everyone is equal in worth for being human, we are not alike in essence. Different is okay. And that is why the Murry family and Calvin O’Keefe hug it out in the middle of the twin's vegetable garden.

There are many things that I like. First, that Meg realizes she has put everyone on pedestals, but it turns out, they are fallible. This lets her be free to finally be whoever she wants to be. This leads me to say how much I loved that the women are given equal footing with their male counterparts. The Mrs. Ws, Mrs. Murry, and Meg have gifted and compassionate teammates. These relationships are built on respect, trust, support, and admiration. Mrs. Murry trusts that Mr. Murry’s lack of communication is due to some unforeseen circumstance. The Mrs. Ws know that with Charles Wallace’s help he will not only interpret their information but use it to guide Calvin and Meg. And Calvin helps center Meg during her thought process. Teamwork. I also liked all the science that L’Engle sprinkles throughout her novel, and how simple she makes it.

And while I liked the idea of the story, there were a few instances that had me refraining from exploring it further. There is the constant world-hopping—which I understand is the whole point—but because we were never in one place for too long, I lacked a connection. Even as the final battle takes place in IT-controlled Camazotz, since it mirrors Earth, it lacks its own personality. And after that final battle, I was left with more questions than answers. The most burning question: what happened to IT? Also: was Camazotz able to rid itself of IT? There’s not much backstory of IT’s conquest of Camazotz. We also don’t know why the Mrs. Ws couldn’t go with Meg to help her. We are tied to the facts of the text, which isn't a bad thing, I guess. After all, their only mission was to find Mr. Murry.

I had originally rated this book a five out of five stars, but because of the world-building I had to knock out a star. I am very glad to have read about a brave girl who rescues her father and gains more understanding of the world she also saves. I did like it from beginning to end and can’t wait to read the rest of the books in the series.

#a wrinkle in time #time quintet #madeleine l'engle #meg murry #calvin o'keefe #charles wallace murry #camazotz #tesseract #newbery medal

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xfcklprtehkrx · 4 years

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Malex and the Boomerang

Okay so the boomerang… This is basically my theory about people, especially loyal people, ie people aren’t boomerangs, sometimes when you throw them away, they don’t come back.

As the season progressed I was seeing it strong and hard (mostly as Michael being the throwee), but at the end of 1X13 I was like, ‘oh man’. Like in my brain Alex was all off and into space and nothing would bring him back. Soulmates yes, but that makes the pain even worse, right? I’m a firm believer in soulmates, but I also believe that sometimes too much has happened and you can’t go back. So I ruminated on it, and decided they hadn’t quite reached that point yet, hence all my posts being sure they would come together again.

Yes, we see Alex be what Michael interprets as judgmental, but I don’t really think it is. When you love someone you want what’s best for them and you want them to be their best selves. Come on, parents do it every single day. Their love is still unconditional (most of the time), and I think for Alex that’s also true. He loves Michael no matter what, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t call him on his bullshit or tell him when he needs to do better. The people who love us should do this. People always say that someone should love all parts of you, and that’s true, it 100% is, but if you think you’re perfect and there’s nothing about you that needs improvement, well you’re also delusional. Michael is so thirsty for acceptance he can’t see the forest for the trees when he’s dealing with Alex.

Now... Alex… Man oh man can this boy walk away like he’s gold medaled in the sport. Whenever things hit him too hard, he walks away. I suspect this is a lifelong thing. When it’s hard he ghosts. In 1X06 he invites Michael into the space he runs to, so we know it exists. Clearly his feelings where Michael are concerned are very potent and very complex. Having spent his life having cold ruthless efficiency, military precision, and self loathing literally pounded into him, I don’t think he knows how to deal with feelings so intense in front of people or without processing. When he was younger, the part of him wanting to connect with someone who understood was like a chasm waiting to be filled, but after 10 years in the service and the awful (given his speech about being the evil you thought you were fighting) things he’s seen, I don’t think that part of him exists anymore.

I felt bad for Michael every time Alex walked away, because it kills him. It really does. I mean in 1X02 Michael being literally unable to watch Alex drive away? Yeah, that’s pain. They both have such strong defense mechanisms (common in abused children). I mean Alex runs from his feelings again, and Michael pretends he doesn’t remember a thing. It’s clearly a lie since when they met at his trailer before it was frosty, and his behavior is 100% different this time around. Yes, Alex knows this, and lets the lie fill the space between them. It’s easier.

Michael is always left with the space where Alex used to be, and Alex is always left with a space he wished Michael was filling.

In those moments, it’s easy to forget that every time Alex looks at Michael he remembers that day so long ago too. A day he wasn’t strong enough to protect someone he loved from the literal monster in his closet (I got a bit of this from his saying he wanted to be someone who won battles). At the end of 1X13 it’s pretty clear that when Michael looks at Alex he sees his father, but I think this goes both ways. When Alex looks at Michael he knows he’s fruit from a tainted tree, and the literal sins of the father are visited upon the son. Alex puts that burden on himself. He shouldn’t, but he does.

These boys are the biggest failure of communication I’ve ever seen…

Alex is afraid to open the lid on his feelings. He feels them, and they are so strong, and he wants to smash them down like the good little soldier his daddy forced him to be, but he can’t. He needs them like he needs air, water, and food, because they are what holds him together I think. When he realizes that Michael has been trying to build a way to leave the planet, you can see it on his face, something in him breaks just a little bit more. He needs Michael, and he is wounded, but he would never say it. Instead he leaves, and Michael feels abandoned, but Alex is running from a presumed abandonment that doesn’t really exist yet, but he’s terrified will one day.

Then there’s Michael who’s so desperate for acceptance that he won’t say what he’s feeling, no matter how strong, because he’s afraid of rejection. Even when he’s confronting Alex about them ‘being over’ in 1X09 he reduces their relationship to basically a 10 year booty call. It’s a harsh blow, but again defense mechanism. It’s also a blatant bold-faced lie. Alex is the only person who ever made Michael feel hope, love, welcome or acceptance. Alex sees through the smoke screen, he always does, but he lets it lie, like always, because for them running away is easier than facing this powerful thing between them.

Enter 1X13 and the push that might have been too hard… Maria DeLuca. Is this the unforgivable thing to be done/said that will end them for good? Is she the thing that is finally too much and too far? This is different than 1X10. In 1X10 Maria didn’t know about Michael and Alex. That day Alex and Michael had said goodbye. It hurt Alex, but it was forgivable since they aren’t actually together, but in 1X13? Frosty soldier boy Alex made himself vulnerable in front of Michael and peeled back a few layers for him to see. Michael accepted this for the important moment it was and asked Alex to come back, and then he didn’t show up.

For Alex I think that’s about as unforgivable as it gets. He’s also a very loyal guy, so Maria is right on up there too, but Michael? Oh… that’s a deal breaker. Alex is about to become an iceberg worthy of sinking the Titanic. However… in what would be called the ‘big gesture’ if Michael makes himself vulnerable to Alex in the same way, Alex will forgive him.

I have commented many times on their magnetic pull towards each other. The seeming ‘it just is’ of them and their feelings. A man who has always loved the stars more than anything else calls it ‘cosmic’. There is power in that statement. He has compared their bond, their feelings, their love, to the thing he longs for more than anything else. Something so significant can’t be denied forever, so that ‘big gesture’ will come.

They really should communicate so much better than they do. They are so much alike. All the same pieces fractured by life. To me there is no better more revealing image representing these two, than this one:

Both not perfect, both just a bit broken, and more beautiful for the way they fit together.

#Malex #alex manes #michael guerin #My Gifs

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ktlsyrtis · 5 years

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@incandescent-justice poked at me about what my thoughts were on Bernie and Serena’s MBTI personality types, and since she’s apparently dying of consumption I figured it was the least I could do. 😉

These are my best guesses , but I’d love to hear what other people think! (Did I actually take the MBTI test as each character? Who can say?)

Bernie Wolfe: ISTP The Mechanic Quiet and reserved, interested in how and why things work. Excellent skills with mechanical things. Risk-takers who they live for the moment. Usually interested in and talented at extreme sports. Uncomplicated in their desires. Loyal to their peers and to their internal value systems, but not overly concerned with respecting laws and rules if they get in the way of getting something done. Detached and analytical, they excel at finding solutions to practical problems

ISTPs have an adventuresome spirit. They thrive on action, and are usually fearless. ISTPs are fiercely independent, needing to have the space to make their own decisions about their next step. They do not believe in or follow rules and regulations, as this would prohibit their ability to "do their own thing"

ISTPs are loyal to their causes and beliefs, and are firm believers that people should be treated with equity and fairness. ISTPs are extremely loyal and faithful to their "brothers"

ISTPs are action-oriented people. They like to be up and about, doing things. They are not people to sit behind a desk all day and do long-range planning. Adaptable and spontaneous, they respond to what is immediately before them. They usually have strong technical skills, and can be effective technical leaders. They focus on details and practical things. They have an excellent sense of expediency and grasp of the details which enables them to make quick, effective decisions

ISTPs are excellent in a crisis situations. They are usually patient individuals, although they may be prone to occasional emotional outbursts due to their inattention to their own feelings

ISTPs are optimistic, full of good cheer, loyal to their equals, uncomplicated in their desires, generous, trusting and receptive people who want no part in confining commitments

Strengths:

Good listeners

Usually self-confident

Generally optimistic and fun to be with

Practical and realistic, they handle daily concerns

Are not threatened by conflict or criticism

Able to leave a relationship with relative ease once it is over

Likely to respect other's needs for space and privacy

Weaknesses:

Living entirely in the present, they have difficulty with long-term commitments

Not naturally good at expressing feelings and emotions

Not tuned in to what others are feeling, they may be insensitive at times

Tendency to be overly private and hold back part of themselves

Need a lot of personal space, which they don't like to have invaded

They thrive on action and excitement

Serena Campbell: ENFJ The Giver Popular and sensitive, with outstanding people skills. Externally focused, with real concern for how others think and feel. Usually dislike being alone. They see everything from the human angle, and dislike impersonal analysis. Very effective at managing people issues, and leading group discussions. Interested in serving others, and probably place the needs of others over their own needs

ENFJs are people-focused individuals. They live in the world of people possibilities. More so than any other type, they have excellent people skills. They understand and care about people, and have a special talent for bringing out the best in others. ENFJ's main interest in life is giving love, support, and a good time to other people. They are focused on understanding, supporting, and encouraging others. They make things happen for people, and get their best personal satisfaction from this

Because ENFJ's people skills are so extraordinary, they have the ability to make people do exactly what they want them to do. They get under people's skins and get the reactions that they are seeking. ENFJ's motives are usually unselfish, but ENFJs who have developed less than ideally have been known to use their power over people to manipulate them

ENFJ's are so externally focused that it's especially important for them to spend time alone. This can be difficult for some ENFJs, because they have the tendency to be hard on themselves and turn to dark thoughts when alone. Consequently, ENFJs might avoid being alone, and fill their lives with activities involving other people. ENFJs tend to define their life's direction and priorities according to other people's needs, and may not be aware of their own needs. It's natural to their personality type that they will tend to place other people's needs above their own, but they need to stay aware of their own needs so that they don't sacrifice themselves in their drive to help others

The ENFJ may feel quite lonely even when surrounded by people. This feeling of aloneness may be exacerbated by the tendency to not reveal their true selves

ENFJs like for things to be well-organized, and will work hard at maintaining structure and resolving ambiguity. They have a tendency to be fussy, especially with their home environments

In the work place, ENFJs do well in positions where they deal with people. They are naturals for the social committee. Their uncanny ability to understand people and say just what needs to be said to make them happy makes them naturals for counseling. They enjoy being the center of attention, and do very well in situations where they can inspire and lead others, such as teaching

ENFJs have a strong need for close, intimate relationships

An ENFJ who has not developed their Feeling side may have difficulty making good decisions, and may rely heavily on other people in decision-making processes. If they have not developed their Intuition, they may not be able to see possibilities, and will judge things too quickly based on established value systems or social rules, without really understanding the current situation. An ENFJ who has not found their place in the world is likely to be extremely sensitive to criticism, and to have the tendency to worry excessively and feel guilty. They are also likely to be very manipulative and controlling with others

In general, ENFJs are charming, warm, gracious, creative and diverse individuals with richly developed insights into what makes other people tick. This special ability to see growth potential in others combined with a genuine drive to help people makes the ENFJ a truly valued individual. As giving and caring as the ENFJ is, they need to remember to value their own needs as well as the needs of others

Strengths:

Good verbal communication skills

Very perceptive about people's thoughts and motives

Motivational, inspirational; bring out the best in others

Warmly affectionate and affirming

Fun to be with - lively sense of humor, dramatic, energetic, optimistic

Able to "move on" after a love relationship has failed (although they blame themselves)

Strive for "win-win" situations

Driven to meet other's needs

Weaknesses:

Tendency to be smothering and over-protective

Tendency to be controlling and/or manipulative

Don't pay enough attention to their own needs

Tend to be critical of opinions and attitudes which don't match their own

Extremely sensitive to conflict, with a tendency to sweep things under the rug as an avoidance tactic

Tendency to blame themselves when things go wrong, and not give themselves credit when things go right

Their sharply defined value systems make them unbending in some areas

ENFJ and ISTP Compatibility

One important thing to keep in mind is that the two communicate very differently. ENFJs are very verbal and expressive about their feelings while ISTPs feel like their partners should “just know” they are loved. ISTPs would rather show their feelings through actions, such as small gifts and physical affection.

Both the ENFJ and the ISTP never discuss their problems. ENFJs avoid direct confrontations for the sake of the relationship while ISTPs simply never discuss how they feel about their relationships with anyone, including their partners. This lack of communication may make the relationship less satisfying for both. The good thing is that both don’t give up on their relationship easily. The ISTP won’t dump his or her partner unless there are very serious reasons to do so, and the ENFJ won’t break up with someone who did nothing wrong

#holby city meta #mbti #berena meta

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silent-storm-seductress-blog · 5 years

Text

Qaara Kagon

Character Chart

Character’s Full Name: Storm Chaser Priestess, Qaara of the Kagon

Reason or Meaning of Name: Title mostly. Infusing her natural aetheric abilities for “storm” magics and she is a trained low tier priestess of the Kagon tribe

Character’s Nickname/Alias: N/A

Reason for Nickname/Alias: N/A

Birth Date: 26th Sun of the 2nd Umbral Moon

Physical appearance

Age: 20

How old does he/she appear: Slightly younger, maybe late teens

Weight: 94lb (50kg/7stones)

Height: 4ft 7in (143cm)

Body build: Slender, soft, slightly toned but mostly just gentle curves

Shape of face: Heart, slightly broad forehead but it’s hidden by her bangs

Eye color: soft violet rimmed in glowing soft leven blue limbals

Glasses or contacts: N/A

Skin tone: pale cream

Distinguishing marks: Known: Freckles - light dusting over her cheeks and nose - Freckles - light dusting over her shoulders and back of neck Unknown / Known to a few: Inked in runes along her spine - Blackened left arm covered in moonlight silver markings

Predominant features: Auri Horns

Hair color: Black with deep pink tips

Type of hair: Short, straight

Hairstyle: Semi- asian style cut with straight banks, lazily layered back, long chunks that hang to either side of her face. All the “layerd chunks”, bangs etc are tipped with deep pink.

Voice: Below a whisper, usually slightly raspy if she talks at all these days

Overall Attractiveness: 8/10 (her personal opinion)

Physical Disabilities: Can not actually heal well despite being a priestess - needs open areas to use her full storm magics (i.e large room with a high ceiling or be outside)

Usual Fashion of Dress: Cloth or light leather - usually dyed black - long robes and a mask during daylight - short near nothing attire at night or inside - often doesn’t wear tops if is around other auri or those comfortable with it.

Favorite Outfit: SImple cotton short shorts and nothing else

Jewelry or Accessories: Feathered Owl Mask, black with silver tips - leather cords about her wrists decorated with various rune stones (uses these in place of wand/staff)

Personality

Good Personality Traits: Open to being friendly and open minded upon a first meeting. - Always tries to give people a chance to show their true selves and accept the person for who they are, not what others say they are or expect them to be

Bad Personality Traits: Is sometimes a bit too trusting, is loyal to a fault in that once she trusts you and accepts you as a close friend or more...she can not see a wrong in you even should you commit a great crime. She’ll defend you and give excuses for you to the death!~

Mood Character is Most Often In: Relaxed, cheerful, curious

Sense of Humor: Most things go over her head if they are of a perverted nature but she can laugh at just about anything thrown at her

Character’s Greatest Joy In Life: Relaxing and watching the night sky change from star filled to a raging storm.

Character’s Greatest Fear: Her darkness being found out and rejected by a person she is most close to

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Losing a loved one should she ever fall in love.

Character Is Most at Ease When: It is night time and raining/storming

Most Ill at Ease When: During the day, high noon, in the desert.

Enraged When: Someone threatens her or her close friends.

Depressed or Sad When: Always a little bit, hiding one’s darkness is….a deeply tiring and emotional toil that goes unseen by nearly everyone.

Life Philosophy: Give people another chance to prove themselves...don’t let a single moment define a person….people CAN change if they have the willpower to do so and are given the chance.

If Granted One Wish, It Would Be: To have just ONE person understand and accept her AND her darkness...no try to change or rid her of it.

Character’s Soft Spot: Injured friends

Is This Soft Spot Obvious to Others?: Very much so.

Greatest Strength: Adaptability

Greatest Vulnerability or Weakness: Emotions

Biggest Regret: Not leaving her tribe’s Kha sooner (she is still a part of the tribe!)

Minor Regret: Keeping most people at a specific distance as far as relationship closeness goes

Biggest Accomplishment: Not succumbing to the curse upon her

Minor Accomplishment: Becoming fairly strong with storm magics

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: None yet..

Character’s Darkest Secret: The reason why her arm is blackened

Does Anyone Else Know?: Yes, one person is slowly learning the secret.

Goals

Drives and Motivations: Survival, making friends, finding one special person

Immediate Goals: Survival

Long Term Goals: Finding someone to stick to through thick or thin

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: She’s just winging it!

How Other Characters Will Be Affected: If she doesn’t get attached...they won’t be? If she does, ho boy get ready for a roller coaster of fun!~

Past

Hometown: Azim Steppes - Kagon Kha

Type of Childhood: Difficult - Shunned my tribes members for being ‘Azim Touched’ - Favored by Elders for darker reasons

Pets: N/A

First Memory: Waking up in the middle of the day, sunburnt and with a black mark about her left middle finger.

Most Important Childhood Memory: Spurring into action her first raging storm

Childhood Hero: N/A

Dream Job: To travel the world alongside someone and dive into the darker aspects of it.

Education: Trained in simple healing magics - Near Master in Storm related magics - Trained in simple weapons and staves as well as long staffs

Religion: Worships Nhaama

Finances: Able to provide for herself but nothing showy

Present

Current Location: Ul’dah possibly or somewhere within Thanalan

Currently Living With: Nobody, sometimes crashes at Crossroads Haven (FC she is a part of)

Pets: N/A

Religion: Worships Nhaama

Occupation: Healer or Mage for hire

Finances: Livable

Family

Siblings: N/A

Relationship With Them: N/A

Spouse: N/A

Relationship With Them: N/A

Children: N/A

Relationship With Them: N/A

Other Important Family Members: N/A

Favorites

Color: Moonlight Silver - Black - Deep Rose Pink

Least Favorite Color: White - Gold

Music: Orchestral

Food: Sweets - Meats - Fruits

Literature: History books - Books on elemental magics

Form of Entertainment: Books - Traveling

Expressions: A soft and inviting smile

Mode of Transportation: Porting Crystals or her own two feet

Most Prized Possession: Owl Mask

Habits

Hobbies: Reading, practicing her magics, daydreaming, wandering

Plays a musical instrument?: Nope, can’t even sing

Plays a sport?: N/A

How he would spend a rainy day?: Walking out in the rain, meditating

Spending Habits: Spends what she needs when she needs but would rather trade as is the custom of her homeland

Smokes: Nope

Drinks: Sometimes, usually a glass of wine or two, socially

Other Drugs: Nope

What does he/she do too much of?: Daydream

What does he/she do too little of?: Train in Healing

Extremely Skilled At: Storm or elemental magics

Extremely Unskilled At: healing magics

Nervous Tics: Will fall silent or remove herself quickly from situations she can not handle

Usual Body Posture: Upright - relaxed - yet ready to act in an instant

Mannerisms: Cheery - Polite - Sociable

Peculiarities: Will randomly greet people in the most random ways, usually mimicking their posture and expressions after stepping up beside them.

Traits

Optimist or Pessimist?: Optimist

Introvert or Extrovert?: Extrovert

Daredevil or Cautious?: Both - situation depending

Logical or Emotional?: Both - usually logical

Disorderly and Messy or Methodical and Neat?: Chaotic organization

Prefers Working or Relaxing?: Both - understands one must work to be able to truly relax

Confident or Unsure of Themself?: Confident in most things - a few she might second guess on

Animal lover?: Has no opinion - would like a creature but it’d need to be useful in some manner

Self-perception

How She Feels About Herself: Like she is not doing enough to be worthwhile

One Word Character Would Use To Describe Themselves: Lost

Paragraph Description on How They’d Describe Themselves: <”Just a lost kagon searching for her destiny. Trying to make friends and looking for one that stands out, one to follow or stand beside. I just….want one person I do not have to always smile around, who I can relax beside and who is not hateful or….wanting to ‘fix’ me. I am not broke, only lost and searching for my path.”>

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait?: Social openness

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait?: Too Secretive

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic?: Her eyes

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic?: Her pale skin

How does the character think others perceive him/her? A bit weird but easy to approach….she hopes

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself? Nothing at the moment.

Relationships with others

Opinion of Other People in General: Everyone is a blank canvas waiting to be painted and revealed as a masterpiece!

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others?: Nope! Though as she becomes ever more mute people might misunderstand?

Person Character Most Hates: N/A

Best friend(s): N/A

Love interest(s): Secret

Person Character (Would) Go to For Advice: Mogoi Qestir

Person Character Feels Responsible For: N/A

Person Character Feels Awkward Around: N/A

Person Character Openly Admires: N/A

Person Character Secretly Admires: Secret

Tagging: @mogoi-xiv @hei-lowell

#need more glams for Qaara #alll da screenies

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notmjbad · 3 years

Text

Materia Prima: Who You Could Be (I) [Summary]

There is a picture at the beginning of this chapter that can be described as follows: an ancient alchemist's in-depth depiction of what a person could be, as such. It features a 'winged' sphere at its base, with a dragon atop. Standing on the dragon, a human figure with two heads - one male (masculine; Sun), one female (feminine; Moon). In between and above the heads is the symbol for Mercury: god, planet, and metal, all at once. Many other symbols adorn the rest of the picture, all being inside an egg-shaped container. Thus, the image is a plurality of things inside a singularity. It is labeled materia prima (Latin for primal element).

The alchemists thought of what this image represents as the basic stuff from which all else, i.e., matter and spirit, evolved. It represents the potential (chaos) people face when the future is confronted, i.e., our future selves, or that which people criticise themselves and others for wasting. It is also the stuff, or information, that people build themselves (and world) with, as opposed to the matter of reality itself. Each view has its use.

What does this all mean? For example, when you get your mail, think exactly what it is 'made of'. Objectively, it is nothing more than the physical, paper letter itself. Though, this is largely irrelevant. It would not matter if the message was digital, voice, or in code. The content is the matter. Meaning that the mail is the container of content, i.e., information positive, negative, or neutral. The mail may be a notice of investigation from the tax office. Meaning, despite the mail's apparently harmless presence in your hand, it is truly and deeply linked to an incomprehensibly large structure that may not have your best interests as its imperative. Alternatively, the mail is not this, but rather something positive from someone unexpected (j), or a long-awaited pay-cheque. This perspective proposes the envelope as container, mysterious (potentially), from which whole newness might emerge.

This idea is universal, if not always realised. A tax letter such as this will have a physiological effect on you, whether you like it or not. This is an instinctive response: fight or flight. Now, you must decide whether or not to face what is 'inside' the letter. Having done this, will you face the problem, or ignore it and allow the 'dragon' to grow beyond your control, paying the psychophysiological price, all despite your obvious emotional response? The former route requires voluntary commitment, to confront this 'dragon', abstractly, and become stronger and more integrated. The latter route will leave the problem be, growing until you are frightened completely by its presence, as predator is always to prey in the darkness.

The bottom third of the image is completely filled by the winged sphere, covered with a square, triangle, and the numbers 3 and 4. It is also known by the ancient alchemists as the 'round chaos'. In no simple way, it is a container - of the primordial element, what the world or psyche (as domain) consists of before it is differentiated. This is the aforementioned potential, or information. It is what attracts your attention unconsciously, before what it is that grabs you is truly seen or known, compelling you to attend to it. It is when and where the novel enters into the predictable and certain (for better or worse); what flits about you, with little voluntary control - as if it is something winged - as your imagination and attention move unpredictably from one association to another; and it is what you are looking at when you have no idea what it is you are looking at (or, what to say about it). Ultimately, it is what you are not able to look away from when possessed by horror, even as this potential for horror simultaneously adds vital interest and value to life.

A synonymous storyline can be seen in the Harry Potter series. The game of Quidditch defines and unifies Hogwarts. The point of the game is to drive the Quaffle, a ball, through one of the three hoops guarded by the opposing team, while flying about the playing pitch on enchanted brooms. Scoring a goal gains the scorer's team 10 points. While this game is happening, an almost separate one is also occurring, between the two Seekers of either team. These particular players are selected for their particular proficiency in attention and flight, and are tasked with locating, chasing, and capturing a winged ball, the Snitch, identical in appearance to the previously described winged chaos at the bottom of the alchemist's picture. The Snitch is golden - indicating its exceptional value and purity - and zips around chaotically, at a very fast rate, darting, weaving, bobbing, and racing the Seekers as they pursue it astride their brooms. If a Seeker catches the Snitch, their team gains 150 points (typically enough to ensure victory) and the entire game comes to an end. This indicates that chasing and capturing whatever is represented by the Snitch - and, by implication, the round chaos - is a goal whose importance supersedes any other. Why is this game structured in such a manner, and what does such an idea signify? There are two, interrelated answers to these questions.

Firstly, it is held here to be self-evident that the true winner of any game is the one who plays fair. This is because playing fair, despite any games' multiplicities, is a higher-order accomplishment than simple victory. Striving to play fair - in the ultimate sense - adhering to the spirit of the rules, as well as the letter (i.e., careful interplay) - is an indication of true personality development, predicated as it is on concern for true reciprocity. This is to say that the Seekers of the Snitch must ignore the details of the game of Quidditch (meta-game), of which they are still a part, while making their perilous attempts to catch the Snitch, exactly as the player of a real-world game must ignore the particularities of that game while attending to what constitutes truly ethical play, regardless of what is happening on the playing field. Thus, the ethical player, like the Seeker, indomitably and definitively pursues what is most valuable in the midst of complex, competing (difficult) obligations (i.e., the ones who keep their eyes on the ball, even if truly in a dark forest, will catch it).

Secondly, the ancient alchemists associated the round chaos with the winged god Mercury, who served as a messenger from the realm of the divine, guide of souls to the underworld (Death?), and bringer of good fortune (Rebirth). For this reason, the symbol of Mercury is located at the very top of the image (the most important location, most high). It is an attempt to indicate what guides the process that the picture represents. Centuries prior to the dawn of modern chemistry, this god Mercury represented what inspires most deeply or attracts interest involuntarily. He was the spirit who possessed a person when his or her attention was drawn irresistibly to some person, situation, or event. This is to say that there are very complex processes happening in your mind unconsciously, highlighting events of potential worth and distinguishing them from everything else constantly unfolding around you. These processes have complex and integrated personalities, which are alive. This is Mercury, truly incarnate. The draw he exerts on our attention reveals itself in a sense of significance - in the sense that something happening happening around you is worth attending to, or contains something of value. The Seeker - in real life, or in the (meta-) game of Quidditch - is he or she who takes that sense of significance more seriously than anything else. This is to say that the Seeker is the one who plays the game that all others are playing, disciplined and expert at it, but also plays another higher-order game, i.e., the pursuit of what is of primary significance. The Snitch (like the round chaos) can therefore be considered the 'container' of that primary significance (meaning), and, therefore, something revelatory when pursued and caught. The Golden Rule echoes this: 'And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise' (Luke 6:31). There is nothing more important than learning to strive under difficult and frustrating circumstances to play fair. This is what should be chased, so to speak, during any game (even though it is also important to try to obtain victory in the game). It is also interesting that the metal mercury is used to mine and purify gold, notable for the symbolism that mercury is used to collect gold, or what is most noble, as gold will not bind to other chemicals or create an oxide.

Each of us, when fortunate, is compelled forward by something that grips our attention - love of a person; a sport; a political, sociological, or economic problem, or a scientific question; a passion for art, literature, or drama - something that calls to us for reasons we can neither control nor understand (try to make yourself interested in something you just do not care about and see how well that works). The phenomena that grip us (phenomena: from the Greek word phainesthai, 'to appear, or to be brought to light') are like lamps along a dark path: they are part of the unconscious processes devoted to integrating and furthering the development of our spirits, the furtherance of our psychological development. You do not choose what interests you. It chooses you. Something manifests itself out of the darkness as compelling, as worth living for; following that, something moves us further down the road, to the next meaningful manifestation - and so it goes, as we continue to seek, develop, grow, and thrive. It is a perilous journey, but it is also the adventure of our lives. Think of pursuing someone you love: catch them or not, you change in the process. Think, as well, of the traveling you have done, or of the work you have undertaken, whether for pleasure or necessity. In all these cases you experience what is new. Sometimes that is painful; sometimes it is better than anything else that has ever happened to you. Either way, it is deeply informative. It is all part of the potential of the world, calling you into Being, changing you forever - for better or worse - in consequence of your pursuit.

A dragon sits at the top of the round chaos. This is almost to say that what is interesting, meaningful, novel, and unexpected, manifests itself as something that is dangerous and promising simultaneously, particularly when its grip is intense and irresistible. The immortal, predatory reptile signifies the danger, and promise beyond is only tentatively hinted at, as a dragon typically guards a great treasure. This is to say that the drawing respectively represents psychological progression. First, you find yourself interested in something. That something (round chaos) contains or is composed of potential, or information. Out of this information, we build both the world we perceive and ourselves as perceivers. So, the round chaos represents the container from which both matter (the world) and spirit (our psyches) emerge. On the sphere itself is the number 3, with a triangle, both of which are associated with spirit (Holy Trinity), and the number 4, with a square, associated with the world of matter (earth, water, wind, and fire). The dragon therefore represents the danger and possibility of the information within.

Standing on the dragon is a Rebis, a single body with two heads, one female, and one male. It is a symbol of the fully developed kind of personality that can emerge from forthright and courageous pursuit of what is meaningful (the round chaos) and simultaneously dangerous and promising (the dragon). Its symbolically masculine aspect stands for exploration, order, and rationality (Sun), and its symbolically feminine aspect stands for chaos, promise, care, renewal, and emotion (Moon). Typical socialisation demands that one of these aspects be more developed than the other (males as masculine, females as feminine, both as biologically inclined). Nonetheless, it is possible - with enough exploration, enough exposure to the round chaos and the dragon - to develop both elements. The alchemical intuition poses this as an ideal.

Out of the unknown - the potential that makes up the world - comes the terrible but promising form of the dragon, peril and promise united. This dichotomy is echoed by the two final symbols on the right side of the image: Jupiter, positive, and Saturn, negative. Out of the confrontation with peril and promise emerges the masculine and feminine aspects of the psyche, working together in harmony. Guiding the process is the spirit Mercurius, i.e., meaning in the world, working through unconscious means to attract exploration to what will unite the various discordant and warring elements of the personality. This can all be read, appropriately, as a story of the development of the idea personality - an attempt, in image, to describe what each of us could be.

Peterson, JB 2021, 'Rule II | Imagine who you could be, and then aim single-mindedly at that', in C Pyette & H Healey (eds), Beyond Order: 12 More Rules For Life, pp. 58-67, Penguin Random House Ireland, Dublin.

#jordan peterson #summary

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johnhardinsawyer · 3 years

Text

The Time is Now

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

1 / 24 / 21

1 Corinthians 7:29-31

Mark 1:14-20

“The Time is Now”

(In Between the Before and the After)

When I was in elementary school, one of our neighbors was a girl about my age. One day, we were playing out in the yard and she asked me if I wanted to see her dad’s new car. “Sure!” I said. So, we walked into the garage where her dad was sitting on a stool, looking at his new Corvette. It was black and shiny and had all of the curvy lines that you would expect of a Corvette from the mid 1980’s. It was very cool! I don’t remember saying very much while we were there in the garage, but after a few minutes, my neighbor and I walked outside, leaving her dad sitting there on that stool. And I remember asking my neighbor, “Does your dad enjoy driving his new car?” “I don’t know,” she said, with all the honesty of a child. “All he really does is sit there and look at it all day.”

I was a little young at the time to understand the concept of a “Mid-Life Crisis,” but there was – and is – this idea that people of a certain age, when confronted with the passage of time and the reality of their own mortality, will do things like buy sports cars and then sit there in the garage and stare at them.

Now, I recently had a birthday which puts me at a certain mid-life age. And, no, I haven’t gone out to buy a sports car or a new Gibson Custom Historic 1958 Les Paul Standard VOS with a Honey Lemon Fade finish, and don’t have any plans to do so (at least, not yet), but as I pass this mid-life milestone, I have been more than a little mindful, recently, of the passage of time – how much time has passed, and how swiftly that time has passed, and how much time may lie ahead for me, Lord-willing. As someone recently and helpfully told me, though, “John, perhaps it isn’t so much that you’re ‘over the hill’ as you are standing on the top of the hill and maybe, just maybe, it gives you a certain amount of perspective that you didn’t have before. . . a certain perspective about life and about time.”[1]

In both of today’s scripture readings – from the Gospel of Mark and from 1 Corinthians – we find references to time. . . In Mark, Jesus says, “. . . the time is fulfilled. . .” (Mark 1:15) and in 1 Corinthians, Paul writes, “. . . the appointed time has grown short. . .” (1 Corinthians 7:29)

In both of these cases, the word used for “time” in the original language, is the word kairos, which is a type of time that is not chronological. You can’t measure kairos with a watch, with one minute passing into another minute or one year passing into another year. Instead, kairos, is a set time or season – the time determined by God.[2]

So, in Mark’s Gospel, after John the Baptizer is arrested, Jesus arrives on the shore of the Sea of Galilee and says, “The time [set by God] – the kairos – is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe in the good news.” (Mark 1:15) In other words, Jesus is saying, “God has brought time to completion and has made this moment unique – a moment unlike any other in history, in which God’s empire – God’s royal reign[3] – has approached and drawn near to you.[4] And, because this has happened, God is asking something of you: turn – reorient your life – toward God. Follow me.”[5]

Jesus says this very thing to a group of fishermen down by the lake and suddenly, without much warning or fanfare, they leave their nets and follow him. Meeting Jesus is a kairos inflection point in their lives that causes them to change direction. There is a moment before they meet Jesus when they are doing one thing – living one way – and then they meet Jesus and everything changes. Their lives will never be the same.

For the Apostle Paul and the church in Corinth, we see this concept at work in a slightly different way. As far as we know, the Apostle Paul never met Jesus, in the flesh. Instead, in the Book of Acts, Paul meets Jesus in a miraculous and spiritual way while traveling on the road to a place called Damascus.[6] For Paul, this meeting is a theophany – a God-sighting – in which he is physically blinded by the light of Jesus’ spiritual presence. This is Paul’s inflection point: the Holy kairos moment, in which everything changes for him.

Later on, when Paul meets the Corinthians and founds the church in Corinth, this “spiritual Jesus” is the Jesus to whom he introduces them. They never actually meet this spiritual Jesus in the flesh, and yet it is this Jesus in which the Corinthians – and we – are invited to believe.

“Follow me,” Jesus says. And the disciples leave their nets and follow. “Follow Jesus,” Paul says, along with so many other people who have told us this over the centuries. And so many people – many of us – have said “Yes,” and have turned and followed. But the turning and the following are not easy, are they?

Paul knows this to be true. In today’s reading from 1 Corinthians, Paul is in the middle of trying to address some of the things that are distracting the Corinthians from the turning and the following. As some of you may remember from last Sunday, Paul has told the people to not be distracted by sex. And, in today’s passage, he writes that relationships, and possessions, and other dealings with things in the world can be distracting, too.

Paul is writing his letter with one eye on the eternal kairos clock that he perceives is ticking up in heaven. You see, just as Jesus has ushered in the appointed time of God’s kingdom coming near, Paul is very mindful of the promised return of Jesus and how, in order to get ready, people need to have their minds, and hearts, and spirits in order. “The time to do this is now,” Paul is saying. “The appointed time is growing short. . . for the present form of this world is passing away.” (1 Corinthians 7:29, 31)

In the original language, Paul is saying that the schema, “the outward appearance, and form, and shape”[7] of the world, as it is seen and known, is on borrowed time. God’s kingdom – the kingdom that will arrive in full when Jesus returns – is causing the whole world to change, so the Corinthians (and the rest of us) better get ready. When John Calvin writes about this verse, he says that it will be like a theatre curtain being drawn up to reveal a new appearance. Everything that may have caught our attention before, will fade into the background.[8] In this kairos moment, in this moment of great revealing, we will see and know Jesus. But, just how should we get ready?

“Well,” Paul writes, “in the time that you have, simplify your lives.” As Eugene Peterson translates,

I do want to point out, friends, that time is of the essence. There is no time to waste, so don’t complicate your lives unnecessarily. Keep it simple—in marriage, grief, joy, whatever. Even in ordinary things—your daily routines of shopping, and so on. Deal as sparingly as possible with the things the world thrusts on you. This world as you see it is fading away.[9]

And, because it is fading away, there are some who – like Paul – will take vows of chastity or poverty in order to make things easier, or less complicated. Now, this doesn’t work for everyone – and Paul knows this – but, since not being married and not owning much works for Paul, he offers it as an option for the Corinthians (and for the rest of us).[10] The main thing, though, is that we turn and follow the One who has first turned toward us in love – the One who is always offering us the loving invitation to follow.

At the risk of stating the obvious, it is a difficult thing to follow Jesus with our whole selves and most of us never get it right, all the time. . . if we think about it at all. For my neighbor’s dad, years ago, he felt that his time was fulfilled, his Corvette was in hand – in the garage. And, maybe that Corvette is still running – but I bet it leaks oil. All of us have been there and some of us are still there. But our time – just like everything that has ever been given to us, and everything that has ever come our way – is not our own. The point for Paul, here, is to pull us out of the garage or wherever we’ve been occupying the time that we have staring at the fading things of this world, and pulling us up on top of a hill to give us a broader perspective of our lives and clearer view of the new world that God is bringing nearer and nearer – a new way of life, a new heaven and earth. This is what matters.

I’ll close with this –

I have a beloved yoga teacher who – as only true teachers ever are – is truly wise. And, even though it’s been years since I’ve had the privilege of being in her class, she is still teaching me things. There is this practice that she used to do at the start of some of her classes in which she would invite us to imagine that we were sitting on top of a hill or a mountain or even up on a cloud and look down at the full expanse of our lives – all of our triumphs and accomplishments, all of our failures and flaws – the full extent of who we are. She would invite us to look, and then laugh out loud. Talk about perspective!

Our lives – whether we live to be one or one hundred – are so short and small when compared to God’s eternity. And yet, in the midst of this eternity – and in the midst of our small everyday lives – God provides times and seasons full of grace and truth in which the Holy is revealed and in which we are called to offer our very selves in service to the Holy. And so, whether we have been diligent in the turning and the following in the past, or are thinking we’ll get around to it in the future, God is always telling us that there is no time like the present. Our present kairos is filled with pandemic and worry and fear and division. For so many of us, this isn’t a mid-life crisis, it is an all-out crisis. But, what would it look like for us to leave our nets and follow Jesus right now? What are the ways that we can – through our living right now – reveal a bit of God’s kingdom to the world? What are the ways that you and I can invite God’s kairos into a relationship, a conversation, a friendship, a family?

Friends, the time is now. Jesus is in the here and now. God’s kingdom is drawing nearer and nearer. Time is short. Why wait?

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

-----------

[1] M.W.

[2] Walter Bauer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979) 395.

[3] Bauer, 134-135.

[4] Bauer, 213.

[5] Mark 1:15 – Paraphrased, JHS.

[6] See Acts 9.

[7] Walter Bauer, 797.

[8] John Calvin, Calvin’s Commentaries, Vol. XX (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2009) 258.

[9] Eugene Peterson, The Message – Numbered Edition (Colorado Springs: NAV Press, 2002) 1572.

[10] See 1 Corinthians 7:8.

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bluenet13 · 6 years

Text

Ghost

First chapter of a new NCISLA fanfic I started posting today on fanfiction.net, under this same username. I will probably post the first 3 chapters here in the next few days and then continue with the rest of it over there.

Chapter 1: How Monsters are Born

The man had been waiting for this moment for the past years and finally all the pieces to the puzzle had come together. It had been a really long road, full of suffering, regret and hate; but over anything, it had been years in the making for his ultimate revenge plan.

The only thing he had desired since the day he had been sent to jail was at his hands at last and he was ready to enjoy every moment of it. His heart beat faster and he smiled to himself just thinking of what would happen in the upcoming days.

Some people had to pay, but not all people had to pay in the same way. He had researched and studied his target, understanding his weaknesses, and strengths, in order to develop the best possible strategy. One destined to succeed, because he hadn’t waited so long just to fall so close to the end line.

-x-x-x-

The man reviewed the pictures he, along with his accomplices, had been collecting over the last few years. The majority of them showed the same team of 3 men and 1 woman during various aspects of their lives: In the field, at their houses, at restaurants, at random places … Everywhere.

He had noticed how the team had changed over the years just by looking at the pictures. And through those changes he had studied his target, noticing every aspect of his relationship with his team, determined not to allow any of them to mess up with his perfect plan.

People often tried to hide themselves, to wear a mask, and only show the world what they wanted them to see. But that mask disappeared when you didn’t even know you were being watched. These agents all wore the perfect masks, but only when they knew something was at stake, or when they were surrounded by enemies. However, on the company of their teammates, on their homes and on the times they thought they were alone, they had revealed their true selves… the deepest desires of their souls, and the greatest fears of their hearts. And he was determined to use all that knowledge to his advantage, after all this was the perfect plan and it wasn’t going to fail.

-x-x-x-

Today the man watched his target from a diner across the street. He was sitting at a picnic table eating tacos with his team; he felt save, and just the thought made his heart jump in excitement. When you knew danger was coming you had time to prepare, and the opportunity to plan a counterattack, but the man he had his sights on had no way of knowing what was coming, and that would only make his ultimate victory that much sweeter.

The following day he sent some of his disciples to follow the team during a chase. After all he had to make sure they knew their tactics. How they breached a building, the way the partnerships worked, their possible blind spots, and any other small detail that would continue to give them an advantage over this team of overqualified agents, and who were supposed to be better than the small team he had managed to build over the years. He had been lucky that today’s chase had occurred in the middle of a busy street, giving his men ample coverage and the perfect setting to spy on the team, while remaining undetected. It was a small victory, but he gladly took it, because all those seemingly insignificant successes, would ultimately come together to win him the war…

A war that the unsuspecting law enforcement team wasn’t even aware had already begun…

-x-x-x-

It had been a week since he had moved the plan to a more active setting. For years he silently waited on the background, accumulating information, gathering his forces and each day re-fulling his anger and hate for the man he now looked to destroy.

Now he was in the final days of the planning stage and his people were making the final preparations and getting ready to make their first move.

At first he thought he would need to fulfill his revenge alone, but during his research he had been ecstatic to learn that the man he so badly despised was also hated by a big group of equally violent men and whom gladly agreed to help. Ultimately they were just minions and his victim would be his alone, but for the time being, he still needed them. Later when the target was acquired he could dispose of them easily.

-x-x-x-

Over the years a lot of people had told him that he was taking this too far, and that the other man had been right in his actions. But, he knew all the truths and only he knew what that other man had cost him. He took everything from him, and now he would take everything back.

Ever since he was a young child he had enjoyed authority and the sensation of feeling supreme. He had grown up in a crime-filled area where only the strong survived, and he had learned at an early age that only through power and control one was destined for greatness. But, still even in the dark world that he had lived in, following the example of his family, he had managed to put a lid to his dark desires and carve his way to the top without ever compromising his morals or forfeiting his innocence. He took to books instead of guns, friends instead of enemies, a sport team instead of a gang and ultimately lightness instead of darkness. Through hard work he had been able to leave his past behind and start a new life in a better part of the city, he got a college education, a good job and eventually formed a family of his own. By that time, his parents had already died, but he took their example and treated his family with the upmost respect, working hard every day to give them every small thing his young self hadn’t been able to enjoy.

But life had an amusing way of working and after years of hard work, and less years of enjoying the rewards of said hard work, everything started going downhill. The economy was bad, and he was laid off from his job, a while later his wife also lost hers. Costs of life kept getting higher and he was left feeling powerless again, something he hadn’t felt since growing up in the slums. He first tried to stay positive, follow his family’s example and keep looking for a job. But after many fails attempts the shadows of his past started to invade his thoughts, and at that time, he turned into the dark road he had avoided his whole life, but which maybe wasn’t in his destiny to escape. He first started taking small odd jobs for people he knew in the old neighborhood, and then he started gambling, hoping for an easy way to make some money. Eventually one thing led to the other and he soon started spending most of his nights at the local bar, drinking his heartbreak away and blaming other people for his misfortunes. By that time his life had been completely turned upside down, and he sometimes didn’t recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror.

Ever since he was a child the positive attitude of his family and the love they provided to him was able to keep his darkness at bay, and as an adult his wife and son did the same thing. But now he was losing all that, the shadows were stronger and he was failing in his battle to remain true to his previous self.

That road of destruction eventually led him to the situation that landed him in jail. He never regretted what he did because for that one moment in his life, he really felt like his true self. Not the man who followed his family example, the one that took walks in the park with his father or the one who accompanied his mother to the grocery store, not the one who was given a train set on Christmas or the one that used to go to bed in the middle of his parents’ embrace. But, the one who was beat up by older kids, the one who got his only money stolen, the one who was attacked for not joining the local gang, the one that lost his job and that eventually also lost his family.

From that day on, he relinquished all the good instilled in him by his loving family and allowed himself to be fully taken by his darkness. Not one that was with him since birth, because from his family he only inherited love, hard work and respect; but one that got into him just by the mere act of living, one that was beat into him by the misfortunes of life and by the fists of those who were stronger than him.

#ncisla #NCIS Los Angeles #kensi x deeks #deeks x kensi #densi #fanfiction #ncisla fanfiction #g callen #sam hanna #ncis osp

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mantrabay · 3 years

Text

Hitchiker From Another World.

Saturday an overarching day that's both conduit and shelter for souls in transition.

Thoughts of the more disturbing kind may intrude.

Little did I know what lay ahead.

All these scenarios flashed across my mind as the wheels of my car screeched to a halt.

Shafts of radiant sunlight revealed a light green leaf entwined placard.

An obscure but apocryphal question -

Going somewhere?

A hitchhiker appeared with the most expressive eyes.

Like shining windows admitting the rush of a golden dawn.

Her rippling nuanced voice spoke.

“Hello, I'm Lelia. Life is a series of stops

and strange encounters.

A journey of some kind.”

Thought-provoking stuff!

She extended her supple silken right hand.

“Hop in.

I'm Joshua King. Going anywhere in particular?"

I enquired archly after the ritual handshake.

"Besides going somewhere or nowhere!”

I continued.

"In one sense I'm not sure.

But there is this place we should all go to.

You'll know what I mean later.”

Lelia mysteriously.

"Not to worry.

Travel is therapy for me."

What made me, Joshua King, say that?

The mind can be overpopulated with figments.

Frustrated figments waiting for that frenzied freedom dash.

This svelte lady wearing an azure padded jacket and sea blue denims glided gracefully into my car.

Hatha yoga asana entry.

My pinstripe attire seemed conventional

on a philosophical journey man.

"Love the aroma ....air freshener.

Orchard in a vehicle.

Symbol of attempted purge."

The hitchhiker's dulcet voice drooping.

Redolent of metaphysics classes I had to abandon.

I was naive enough to believe that attending these courses would fix my “issues.”

More than just momentary bugs.

They couldn't be spray canned away.

I was, however, adept at avoiding their resolution.

My “issues” were other "selves.”

I called them timid, anxious, fidgety ,scrupulous withdrawn.

“What’s more I chat to them.

These chats I call the "whispers.”

Will Lelia notice?”

My twin brother, Jonah, a twin in “every sense” could point to my tendency to flee.

We spotted each other’s flaws with aplomb.

Banter between mirror images of real selves!

Tortured twin psyches.

Jonah was an integral part of these "whispers" too!

All these thoughts were doing hula hoops in my head.

In the process peculiarities surfaced with Lelia..

"I'm Lelia again. Don't forget. You probably won't.

This place I alluded to is but a distance from here.

Distance is a gulf whose magnitude is shaped by its smoothness of passage.

Or the fate that awaits one.

My destination is another world altogether."

Lelia’s cryptic crossword setter.remark.

Tapping my shoulder she extended her hand again.

Her fingers and thumb spatially arranged with tutored

stillness.

Was that repetition a neurotic oddity or a symptom of a deeper malaise?

I nodded to the said hand gesture.

We both brushed this bizarre incident off.

The spot on asides and the strict avoidance of that verbal litter referred to as small talk suggested we should.

Pauses. They did surface periodically.

The silence was then punctuated by a sudden remark.

"All those conifers. Look at how they reach out to the sky.”

One of Lelia’s poetic observations.

“They seem so close yet isolated.

There is something almost within their grasp.

Almost.”

Lelia nonplussed.

“See the adjoining fields. The green is but a cover. They are as neighbours in a high rise flat.

One could say they are both connected and disconnected at the same time.”

Lelia resting her case.

“I'm a bit of a writer and maths researcher.”

I proffered.

"Recluses some say.

Oh, I didn't mean you

Necessarily.”

Ouch, said my shattered Id.

Lelia, archer of the scar inflicting jibe.

Bow and arrow baroness of stinging broadsides.

This offshoot to our conversation was infused with a wry allusion.

Insight on a whim.

We both laughed at the incongruity of a conversation that had become elliptical in form.

Tangents cropped up as impetus to the other person's willingness to reveal themselves.

Lelia didn't exactly volunteer her vocation but left clues.

“You didn't say what you did?

Student ...essayist ...author."

Me sounding Lelia out.

“Oh no children….dashing right across the road in front of us.

Squealing with delight. Whoops of innocent joy? They are sticking out their tongues now!”

Hair-raising moment I hadn't anticipated.

I spied Lelia sticking her tongue out at those reckless varmints.

She stopped the minute I noticed.

“Children …….sometimes you have to act like a kid when dealing with kids."

Straight and to the point from this hitchhiker.

She now resumed the thread of an earlier topic.

“Work ….you asked about work.

I sort of work and play with the mind.

Play act too.”

A retort of sudoku like complexity.

As I digested lelia’s response it dawned on me how much like people my "selves”were.

Even when driving I "dialogued” those various aspects.

“You've an interesting face. The face is like a map, I say.

Heard you mutter about your "selves."

Leslie being cheeky.

Silence as challenge started to creep in.

Russian roulette without rules.

“Watch your driving, there." Lelia being brash.

Her different voices now somersaulting.

“Very quite aren't we, Josh?"

Josh mark you!

Grilling me like an interrogator trying to crack a stubborn suspect.

Without a word of warning Lelia raised her voice and got into a tantrum.

“What's the matter ….lost something?”

Joshua said anxiously.

A curious search resembling a scrum ensued.

Then more silence.

I craned my neck and spotted an uncanny regression.

Lelia talking to herself in a child-like manner and then changing tack.

“Don't worry. Found what I was looking for.”

Another void.

A tense lull. A little lockjaw appears when the juice runs out of discourse.

I squinted in the mirror once more.

This time Lelia was talking to her palm.

Staring vacantly at it she kept repeating the name Linda.

Lelia continued oblivious to what I saw or might be thinking.

She hummed this strange lullaby.

Suddenly my "selves" surfaced in an uncontrollable flurry.

I tried to suppress them but failed abysmally.

The "whispers and selves" started to have a life of their own.

This car is getting a bit crowded.

It's being converted into a train with fantasy passengers on board.

The sort one hears late at night hurtling through the countryside as dim lights flicker.

Both inside and outside this vehicle a tumult of events was took place.

Out of the blue the rain poured heavily.

“The gods or the elements must be cross or something.” Lelia opined.

“Let’s get introduced to my playmate in a palm.

Linda, these are Joshua’s true other selves.”

Lelia chuckling.

A comic situation arose where I changed my voice for each of my "selves" by way of introduction.

My great powers of concentration helped while driving.

"Pleased to meet you, Linda.”

Lelia altered her voice when teasing all my "selves."

She had some experience as a ventriloquist.

But Lelia was having this hypnotic effect too.

I was being manipulated.

One by one my highly personalised complexes were being extracted and subject to a rigorous interrogation.

This was some hitchhiker.

Was this car journey now becoming a high rent farce or a mock therapy session from an amateur shrink?

The rain continued to lash and my other "selves" felt like the last sting of a dying wasp.

A certain lightness ensued.

Almost as if my “aspects” were floating away.

For the first time my "other selves“ didn't seem to have this grip on me.

But deep down I knew I wanted to keep a little of them.

Although they were a burden they did have their positive aspects.

“Jonah … he still bugs doesn't he.

He’s almost like one of those "other selves!"

The "whispers" I heard earlier … I've a very delicate ear.

Those under the breath "whispers" gave the game away.

The names and complex relations between them."

Lelia now probing very deeply.

The wind howled and seafront rain waves splashed across my bonnet

There was a warped synchronicity.

As my complexes receded so did the thunderous weather.

They were working in tandem.

“Wash it all away. Come on, come on

See me waving my wand.”

Lelia chanted.

The Exorcist film had nothing on this.

Before his very eyes Joshua's "reticence" and the other "selves" were disappearing virtually.

Against the backdrop of all this inner and outer cacophony Lelia kept looking out the window.

Was that this home she mentioned earlier getting closer as Joshua was

"going home” to himself?

“Windows are amazing.

They show us the world but sometimes screen us from it.”

Lelia notes.

fog from the car window.

“Trees and branches swaying. Clouds darkening.

Thickening ominously.

Exodus of pedestrians seeking answers.”

Her voice penetrating Joshua.

“Am I being cleansed of what they call inner demons?"

Joshua panic stricken.

"This other worldly person has me spellbound.

There's a chessboard in this moving vehicle.

A total stranger has me in her palm.” .

Lelia assumed various postures.

As Joshua was the driver she didn't want to send him to sleep.

Lelia's voice was either hypnotist's drone or excited sports commentator.

Joshua could never forget this encounter.

“Don't forget Jonah too. Joshua wherever he might be.”

Her sinister tone rising.

“The name on your credit card.

I found it earlier when searching for my script.

Joshua Jonah king.”

Joshua confessed he was an only child.

“Am I a prisoner?.

Must button my lip.

I'm being freed and incarcerated by this person, the likes of whom I've never met before.”

Joshua felt a final therapeutic process coursing through him.

Very little was left of his "selves,” whispers.”

Joshua drove through a stoically preserved area whose haunting nature was blurred by this encounter.

“Terrible to have all these half-worlds revealed with such clinical accuracy.”

Joshua to himself.

Lelia's voice gradually lost its domineering tone.

At this point by accident or design the tense atmosphere eased.

“You are probably wondering where this is all going to end.

Maybe I have whispers, Jonah's and selves to face too.”

A casual Lelia random comment.

On this occasion a composite of adult confidence and infantile charm.

“Oh here we are, this place.”

She stated.

Joshua had undergone some sea change catharsis.

“Should I thank Lelia or what?

Jonah my make-believe twin. Don't really need him do I?”

Joshua pondered.

“Back to earth my dear.

This is where we part.”

Lelia again.

“Better change the name on that credit card.

It could bug your company!”

Lelia cackles..

“See that building..

It's called “Another World School of Acting.”

Acting is therapy..

Therapy in every sense!

They are auditioning for a play

“Inside The Split Mind." She said.

"Wonder will I get the part?”

Lelia looked away sadly.

“Off I go. Enjoy yourself or yourselves or whatever is left of them.”

Lelia laughing through her tears.

“Better get out of here fast, Josh.” Joshua to himself.

“I'm beginning to sound like her.” Joshua now driving at top speed.

“It will be awhile before I offer someone a lift again.

I suppose I should be grateful to her.” Joshua’s face now a deep red.

"Well, Jonah, I guess I'm going to miss you and all those "issues" in a way.

But at least I can be myself …. sort of.”

Short story by mantrabay copyright protected.

Completion of earlier submission

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