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gamerwoo · 3 years

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[Tales from the Pack] Joshua: Second Chance (Part Five)

Characters: Joshua x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, fluffy angst, Josh is still a grumpy old man

Word count: 2,888

Summary: After his mate died, Joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. However, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that’s quite the opposite of him. He insists he doesn’t want a new mate – nobody’s even sure if he’s ready for a new one – but he can’t ignore his instincts.

Previous | Next | Second Chance Masterlist

“So how exactly are we supposed to...prepare?” Soomin wondered.

“Prepare what? Prepare how?” Soonyoung asked.

“Well, it’s not like Josh is gonna take this re-imprinting thing well,” Wonwoo shrugged. Ever since the news about Joshua imprinting during his doctor visit, that’s all the pack could really focus on or talk about. But nobody was completely sure when he’d be released, so they wanted to plan things ahead of time. “None of us are really sure what to do when he gets home. He’s probably not going to want to talk about her so do we just not say anything? Do we brace ourselves for him to go back to being angry and reckless?”

“Reckless?” Yeji snorted. “You can’t tell me that old fart was ever reckless.”

“There are tons of stories we could tell you about him doing dumb things, and there’s even more from before he met us,” Seokmin nodded, though he wasn’t about to get into details.

“Even Lilly would tell us stories of how Josh was a menace growing up,” Chan chuckled. “We’ve all seen him act aggressively. He was never really great at managing his anger, even when it--”

“Shut up,” Seungkwan hissed, knowing exactly what Chan was going to say and not wanting to start that conversation up again.

“Is that why the tip of his wolf’s ear is missing?” Suvi wondered.

“Not necessarily,” Soonyoung said with almost a sour tone.

“Okay, but despite all of that,” Minghao began, “do we really need to ‘prepare’ for Shua to come home? If he doesn’t want to talk about her, then he won’t. So then we won’t. Problem solved.”

Except nobody ever thought that Joshua might let the girl he imprinted on tag along back home. He walked in with Seungcheol and Kyung helping him into the house, the pack smiling and telling him how happy they were that he was going to be back to normal. However, Joshua ignored them all, not even sparing them side glances. He just stared forward and grumbled for the two alphas to bring him to his bedroom.

Then Jihoon walked in. He seemed stressed when he lifted his head to address the pack.

“Don’t mention her to Joshua, don’t even talk to either of them if they’re ever in the same room together,” he warned.

“Who?” Junhui asked.

And then Hansol walked in with you as your blue eyes wandered curiously, subtly sniffing the air of this new place. You smelled...a lot of things. But as Hansol had quietly told you on the way there, there were fourteen werewolves living there, along with seven mates. You knew you were going to be bombarded with a lot, but still, you could somehow easily pick up Joshua’s distinct scent above all else.

“Oh…” Jun murmured.

Your eyes then began scanning each face in front of you. You assumed these people must’ve been the pack -- who else would they be?

“This is _____,” Hansol introduced you as if Jihoon didn’t just come in and basically tell the pack to shun you in Joshua’s presence. “She’s a werecoyote.”

“That explains the weird smell...” Jeonghan muttered.

With Joshua upstairs -- Seungcheol came back down with Kyung and reported that he didn’t think Joshua would be leaving his bedroom at least for the rest of the day -- the pack brought you into the living room just to get to know you a little better. Truth be told, they were kind of excited to see what Joshua’s new mate would be like. Would you be like Lilly? Would you be like how Joshua is now?

However, they found you to be...odd. Nice, absolutely, but odd. Living in a cave instead of a home was the biggest red flag, but there were plenty of others. It was like you were raised like an actual coyote rather than a person.

“Didn’t you have a family, _____?” Chan decided to ask. “Parents? Siblings? Anyone to take care of you?”

“Well yeah, but--”

“But, like everyone else, they kicked her out or something,” Joshua’s voice surprised everyone as he appeared in the doorway to the living room. He raised his eyebrows at you. “Am I right? Yeah, so you’re not special.”

“Are we supposed to not talk to her now?” Mingyu barely whispered.

“I can hear you all upstairs, y’know,” the older wolf said as he strolled into the living room and leaned against the arm of one of the couches.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Danbi asked.

Joshua just shrugged, not saying anything in response.

“Okay…” Yeji looked away from Joshua and back at you, wanting to get rid of the odd tension that the grumpy werewolf had created. “So _____, how old are you?”

But when you gave them your age, Yeji chuckled at you, “No, I mean how old are you really? Like, how many years have you been alive?”

“Um...th-that many?” you shrugged.

“Figures,” Joshua muttered, “I get stuck with a baby were-creature. It’s like fate fucking hates me more than I thought…”

“Really?” Kyung chuckled, ignoring Josh’s comment. “You’re younger than even me.”

“By a year,” Hansol chuckled, nudging his mate’s knee. “You’re still a baby compared to everyone else.”

“What does that mean?” you wondered.

“Age freezing,” Mingyu replied with a shrug, as if that would be obvious to anyone.

You waited for someone to elaborate, but nobody did, “...What’s that mean?”

Josh let out a dry chuckle, sending a glare your way, “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Kyung frowned and said something you didn’t understand as she turned her sour expression toward your mate, but he didn’t even seem fazed by whatever she said.

“When you reach a certain age -- usually somewhere between like, eighteen and your mid-twenties -- you stop aging until you find your mate,” Chan explained. “For example, I’m actually twenty-six years older than the age my body stopped aging.”

“But I’m the oldest,” Yeji grinned proudly, “technical and actual age.”

“Bragging about being an old lady isn’t--”

“Watch it,” Jihoon growled, glaring at Joshua, who didn’t get to finish his snide comment.

“Look, Shua. We get you’re in a bad mood -- really, we do,” Seokmin began, seeming almost afraid to stand up to the older wolf, “but...you’re kind of being really mean just in general.”

He let out a deep sigh, “Fine, whatever, I’ll shut up. You can go back to talking about useless stuff.”

“Anyway,” Danbi quickly spoke up, “as we were saying. Even Wonwoo and I seem only a year apart, but he’s actually older than me by...what was it, like, twenty years?”

Her brother nodded, his arm draped around his mate, “Yeah, mom had me at eighteen and then didn’t have you until she was thirty-eight.”

“Wait, what?” Mingyu suddenly spoke up, looking between the siblings with shock written all over his features. “I-- I didn’t even know that.”

Danbi just giggled and shrugged, “Guess I forgot to mention it.”

“So what happened with your family?” you asked the pair.

Wonwoo and Danbi looked back at you again. You hadn’t said a whole lot since being brought to the living room, so whenever you spoke, the pack paid a lot of attention.

“We moved around a lot so nobody would realize I didn’t age,” Wonwoo explained. “They wanted to just kick me out, but they also were afraid that their son suddenly leaving the house would be a big red flag that I was a werewolf. And of course, they couldn’t have people thinking that. They kept me around for a while but they didn’t treat me that great.”

“But they kicked him out when I was fourteen,” Danbi continued. “I was dabbling in potion-making, and they thought it was somehow Wonwoo’s influence. They said he was bad for their precious daughter, so they kicked him out. We’d manage to visit each other, either in town or he’d sneak into my room at night just to talk. When I was finally of age, I went to live with him.”

That wasn’t anything like what happened with you, but you didn’t want to mention it and make it about yourself. You kind of liked absorbing this new information about the pack, anyway. Hearing about them was entertaining in a way.

“Do parents...normally abandon their kids when they find out they’re a werewolf?” you wondered.

“No,” Hansol chuckled. “My parents are super loving and I visit when I can. We still go visit Kyung’s, too.”

“Even Rin’s were super nice before she came to live with us,” Kyung added with a nod.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Who’s Rin?”

“Kyung came from another pack before joining ours,” Seungcheol explained. “Rin’s one of her old pack mates.”

“Soonyoung refers to her as Cooper, though,” Kyung explained, rolling her eyes. “He thinks her surname is fun to say.”

“Because it is!” Soonyoung insisted before quietly giggling to himself and softly saying, “Cooper...”

“Anyway, you’ll probably meet her...at some point...” Kyung trailed off, so you decided to not ask any questions about her old pack despite being intrigued.

Chan suddenly leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he spoke up, “_____, I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Can you shift for us?”

“Ooh, yeah!” Seokmin grinned, excitement in his eyes. “We’ve never seen a werecoyote before!”

Joshua wouldn’t say it, but you could tell even he was intrigued by the way his gaze suddenly locked on you and he just stared, waiting for your response. He didn’t even have anything snarky to say.

"Um,” you shrugged, “yeah, sure.”

It was a little awkward just standing in front of a large group of people who just stared at you in wonder, but it was also a little flattering at the same time. Nobody in the pack had ever encountered a werecoyote -- well, other than Yeji -- so they were surprised to see you were really just a smaller, scragglier version of a werewolf.

“I wanna see how fast she really is,” Seungkwan decided before shifting into his wolf form.

So then the pack watched the two of you race from one end of the large yard to the other. You heard someone whistle lowly when you won, followed by the pack’s murmurs of how cool it was that you were faster than them.

And then everyone else wanted a turn to race you -- except Chan because of course he was still the fastest -- so the whole thing just turned into you play-wrestling with a bunch of werewolves. It made you happy, though. You kind of felt like you belonged in their pack.

However, there was still one member of the pack who hadn’t shifted: Joshua. He stood on the porch with the mates, watching as you and the rest of the pack ran around and played with each other. He kept a frown plastered on his face despite the fact he secretly found it endearing that the pack was already getting along with you and vice versa.

But there was still that part of him that didn’t want you in his pack to begin with.

“What’s with the sour look, lover boy?” Yeji quizzed.

Josh merely side-eyed her before going back to watching the pack, “Don’t ask stupid questions if you don’t want a stupid answer.”

“Give it a rest, grumpy,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “We all know you don’t actually hate her as much as you want everyone to think.”

“I don’t know...” Suvi began quietly like she was afraid to give her opinion. “I think he just invited her back here because he feels bad for her. Look at how he’s been acting.”

Joshua shifted his weight to one leg, pointing his thumb beside him at the younger girl, “She’s right.”

“No she isn’t,” Danbi chuckled.

“Yeah? And what do you know?”

“For starters, you haven’t stopped staring at her since we got outside,” Eunjin interjected in a plain tone.

“And you can frown all you want but your eyes show everything, Shua” Danbi insisted with a giggle.

Joshua just let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, “Shut up, all of you.”

With the sun having set, the pack called it a day and shifted before going back into the house, pulling on their clothes as they talked and laughed with each other. You were toward the back of the group, walking silently as the rest of the pack made playful conversation with each other. You weren’t really sure what was happening next, but you also didn’t want to ask and possibly set Joshua off -- or seem rude asking if you were supposed to leave now or not.

“So, um,” Seungcheol stopped and turned around, pulling his shirt on over his head before he looked at you, “since you’re here and it’s already dark outsi--”

“Don’t even say it,” Joshua grumbled.

Jihoon sighed, rolling his eyes, “Come on, are you really gonna make the poor girl walk home in the dark?”

“She can take care of herself,” he stated, eyeing you up and down -- but there was more of a disgusted look on his face than anything else.

You didn’t really care, though.

“I get she’s a werecoyote, but come on,” Kyung spoke up. “She almost died to begin with because she was running around at night.”

“Wait, really?” Junhui asked.

After the rest of the pack started getting on his case -- especially after learning that new information -- Josh let out a loud groan, letting his head drop back, “Fine!”

His tone actually made you flinch -- not because you were afraid, but the loudness startled you.

He lifted his head, his golden eyes landing on you, and you raised your eyebrows. He narrowed his eyes, “You can stay on the couch for the night.”

You visibly perked up, “Couch? Like, the one in the living room?”

“Um...yeah?"

“Really?!” you grinned. You were practically bouncing with excitement. “Thank you so much!”

“It’s...just a couch...” Chan said slowly, not understanding what you were so happy about.

Seungcheol nodded his head toward the living room, “C’mon. We’ll find some extra blankets for you.”

“I think you’re forgetting her usual sleeping space,” Jia pointed out quietly as the pack began to walk down the hallway again to start going to their separate rooms.

That was when it clicked. Of course you were excited to sleep on a couch, you lived in a cave. Your typical bed was probably not the most comfortable thing. They imagined it was probably either the cave floor, or maybe a bed of leaves and grass. A couch would definitely be a huge upgrade for you.

As you beamed watching Seokmin and Seungcheol work to set up a makeshift bed for you on the couch, Joshua silently and slowly approached you.

“Have you...ever slept on a bed before?” he wondered.

You looked at him and shrugged with a small nod, “Not for a really long time, though. It’s been...”

You trailed off as you tried to do some math in your head, but you genuinely couldn’t remember when it was you last slept in a bed. You couldn’t even remember what age you were when you left home. Things started blurring together.

“I don’t know how many years, but it’s been a long time,” you shrugged.

Years? God, why did you have to tug at Joshua’s heart when he was trying to be cold and push you away? You just had to have a tragic life story, didn’t you?

After a moment of listening to Seungcheol and Seokmin bicker about which way the sheet was supposed to go, Joshua let out a deep sigh, “Y’know what? Just go take my bed. I’ll figure this out since you two are too dense to figure out a fucking bedsheet.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You looked at Josh with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, blinking as you waited for him to take the statement back. Even the pack froze and waited to see if he was just playing some dumb prank on you to get your hopes up.

Joshua turned his head to look at you when you didn’t move, “I’m sorry, was I speaking a different language?”

You knew it was sarcasm, but you still replied with a simple, “No.”

“Then why are you just standing there?”

Kyung groaned, saying something in another language under her breath before she stepped forward, “Come on, I’ll show you were to go since Shua’s too busy being an asshole.”

You followed the foreign wolf out of the room and up the stairs to where Joshua’s room was, and then she tracked down some pajamas to fit you and helped you get settled.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the pack was still looking at Joshua. However, they were all smirking or wearing some sort of shit-eating grin.

“Nice excuse,” Yeji snorted.

Josh grimaced, “What?”

“We all know it wasn’t because dumb and dumber were taking too long,” Jeonghan smirked, shaking his head as Seungcheol and Seokmin called out in offence. “You felt bad and you care about her.”

“You liiiiiiike her,” Danbi sang.

Joshua rolled his eyes before he walked up to Seokmin and snatched the sheet from him, making the younger wolf flinch.

“Just get the hell out of my room,” he growled.

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 17 - ao3 -

The next week was far more enjoyable than Lan Qiren had thought it would be.

He wasn’t really sure, in retrospect, what he had anticipated a visit with Wen Ruohan to consist of – more awkward conversations or being forced to drink liquor, perhaps, although the apology of the blanket had largely assuaged his fears in that regard – but he hadn’t actually expected it to be fun.

Wen Ruohan took him around the Sun Palace and the Nightless City, allowing him to point out whatever caught his interest and casually narrating some interesting history of whatever it was, whether person, place, or thing. The Nightless City was full of treasures, some their own or won through acts of heroism, others looted from other sects; Wen Ruohan was not especially shy about describing how his sect had grown rich with subordinate sects, telling the stories of how his sect had defeated and devoured the others with relish, but it wasn’t as if such ruthless growth wasn’t echoed in every other Great Sect’s history as well. And Wen Ruohan himself was ancient, his involvement in the history of his sect personal, and above all else he was proud – endlessly proud.

He was proud of his city, of his sect, of his personal accomplishments. It was said of him that he thought every good thing under the sun rightfully belonged to him, and hearing him speak Lan Qiren could see why people thought so. Wen Ruohan thought other people were wasting their time with such treasures, leaving them to waste away half-used; he thought that he himself was the only one that could value them as he believed they deserved.

It wasn’t just items, though, whether valuable spiritual weapons or devices that any sect would keep as an heirloom. Wen Ruohan valued people, too: he had subordinates drawn from all over the cultivation world, those with special talents or high potential. Even when Lan Qiren hadn’t asked, Wen Ruohan made a special point of pointing them out, telling the story of how he’d saved this one and earned a life-debt, how he’d lured that one in with promises of riches and power, how he’d given his surname to a third who had in the end only wanted a place to belong.

It took a while for Lan Qiren to understand the message, unspoken as it was, but eventually he got it.

Like a treasured sword left to prop open a door, Wen Ruohan had said about Lan Qiren, way back when he’d sworn brotherhood with him in a drunken evening and reconfirmed it in the morning. Lan Qiren hadn’t believed him then, and he’d gone on not believing him for ages, but he was starting to suspect, to his bemusement, that Wen Ruohan actually meant it – that he thought Lan Qiren was something special, like his powerful subordinates or his talented artists and artisans, like the geniuses and scholars he added to his sect like adding flowers to a vase.

That their brotherhood wasn’t mostly a farce the way Lan Qiren had always assumed it was, whether a tease to Lao Nie or a mockery of the Lan sect, but rather something…genuine.

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure what to do about that, so he opted not to do anything at all, throwing it all in the back of his mind to be considered at length later. But he had to admit – he liked it.

He liked the attention Wen Ruohan paid him, the fact that an older man, powerful and respected and renowned throughout the cultivation world, thought he was worth spending time with even without anyone else there to mediate. He liked the way that Wen Ruohan indulged him, the way that Lan Qiren’s bed in the Nightless Palace was even more comfortably textured than his treasured blanket back home, the way the design of the furniture and even plateware was, although in red and white, in the styles he liked most; he liked the way Wen Ruohan would add things as he figured out more of Lan Qiren’s preferences, beautiful paintings making their way onto his walls and fresh cut flowers beside his table. He liked the way Wen Ruohan remembered that he liked grilled foods over stewed ones, even years later, and how he didn’t serve him meat even when he ate it himself, although he made clear that it was available if Lan Qiren wished to try it; he liked how if there was something he didn’t like, it wasn’t served again.

Best of all, though, he liked how Wen Ruohan listened to him, even when he talked too long or on a subject that he (usually belatedly) realized other people would likely find boring. Not just nodding along, either, but actually paying attention enough to ask questions and interject comments, offering new perspectives on old subjects – how sometimes it seemed as though something Lan Qiren had said had sparked some new insight for Wen Ruohan, even though that seemed improbable. Wen Ruohan would sometimes interrupt their conversation to wave over a servant, ordering them to get this or that book related to their conversation, and if his memory for remembering exact citations was not as good as Lan Qiren’s then the vastness of the library available at his fingertips more than made up for it. Their conversation flowed easily and well, despite their age difference; it was helped along by Wen Ruohan’s charm, that mask Lan Qiren had noticed with Lao Nie, but it was easy enough to ignore the dangerous aura that lingered behind the façade when Lan Qiren felt certain that he, at least, would not be the target of that danger.

It felt – easy.

That was the strangest part, really. Lan Qiren was the son of a Great Sect, privileged even among the privileged; he had never lacked for food or drink or even knowledge. And yet it felt as if he had been struggling alone up the side of a mountain, the burdens forced onto his shoulders weighing him down; even if he had been able to manage it just fine, the fact that there was now someone walking alongside him, sharing it with him, supporting him, made it feel so much easier. He felt safe, he felt secure. He felt happy.

He felt –

Well, he felt a little guilty for thinking it, but he felt as though he finally had a brother.

Lan Qiren had always been a little skeptical of the description of brothers in all the tales he’d heard, the idea of an elder brother caring for and guiding the younger one utterly foreign to him; he tried to emulate the younger siblings, who idolized and loved their elders with a passion that rivaled that which they shared with their lovers, carrying within them a bond that would never be broken, but he knew in his heart that he could not do so in truth. Lan Qiren did idolize his brother, who was perfect in nearly every way except that he didn’t much like Lan Qiren, yet that deficiency was enough to make it difficult to like him back; Lan Qiren could love him better in theory than he could in practice.

With Wen Ruohan, it was different.

Lan Qiren wasn’t quite sure it was exactly like being a brother, either – for one thing, all the attention made him feel strangely shy, made his heart beat too fast and his stomach feel tense, and it wasn’t anything at all like the cheerful and casual camaraderie he shared with his nicer cousins like Lan Yueheng or even with someone he thought might be a friend, like Lao Nie – but whatever it was, he knew that he liked it.

He liked it enough to try to be flexible on some of his own relatively strict standards: to agree to try some local specialties that Wen Ruohan especially wished to share, to take the time to help Wen Ruohan with matters relating to his sect when there was no objection, to make an effort to stay up later than his usual bedtime in order to complete a conversation.

He even allowed Wen Ruohan to buy him things he would normally have rejected out of hand – for example, Wen Ruohan seemed to have a particular fascination for selecting clothing, which Lan Qiren didn’t understand in the slightest, but after having been so indulged, it seemed like it was the least he could do to return the favor.

“I really don’t know the difference between the two cuts,” he confessed, frowning down at the sketches presented by the tailor. “It seems – fairly minimal?”

“They are for completely different body types, Master Lan, and flatter the body in very different ways,” the tailor told him. “What appear to be small choices, such as whether to wear wide sleeves or tight gauntlets, robes or trousers, the style of the shoulders, the cut and angle of the collar, can make the difference between a cold demeanor and a warm one, a mature man and a childish one, a passionate earthy beauty and a icy fairy who stands above the earth.”

Lan Qiren nodded gamely, happy to concede the point – he had always enjoyed hearing other people expound about their interests, even if he didn’t share them, and it was clear the tailor enjoyed his work – but felt obliged to add, “Even if that’s true, how can I know which one I prefer? Anyway, I really don’t need any more clothing…”

“You should have several options in each style already ready-made for sect disciples, do you not?” Wen Ruohan asked the tailor, cutting Lan Qiren off, just as he had the last few times Lan Qiren had tried to suggest that he didn’t actually need to be bought more things. Competitive, as Cangse Sanren had said, only she’d forgotten to add stubborn! “Bring out a few and let him try them.”

“I don’t think –”

“That’s the best way to see what fits best,” the tailor agreed, nodding. “I’ll bring them at once, Sect Leader.”

“But –”

Lan Qiren gave up his clearly futile protests, reminded himself that he’d decided to make an effort to cooperate, and followed the tailor to another room to change his clothing. It felt strange and almost inappropriate, putting on the colors of another sect – at least the base color was still white, which was comforting, but the vivid reds, entirely dissimilar from the usual cool blue accents of the Lan sect, were certainly unlike anything he’d ever worn before.

And the style itself was very different, too. Both sects preferred tight sleeves, but the Wen sect didn’t add an overlay with wide sleeves the way the Lan sect did, and they had a sharp cut at the shoulders and collars that the Lan sect disfavored. Lan Qiren’s usual pick of clothing was even more simple – less layered, fewer cuts – than most in his sect, and the Wen sect outfit, though far from excessive, was almost flamboyant by his standards.

“It fits surprisingly well,” he remarked to the tailor, who smiled vacuously. “I’m lucky that you happened to have something so close to my size at hand.”

“You are very lucky, Lan-er-gongzi,” the tailor said, and although his face was blurred in the copper mirror, Lan Qiren briefly thought he almost looked nervous. “Please wait where you are, there’s one more thing I think would be a perfect fit.”

Lan Qiren nodded absently, looking down at his sleeves and tugging on them even though they fit just right. Truly it was a marvel, he thought to himself; most of his clothing was tailored for him personally, painstakingly made in the Lan sect style with embroidered arrays woven into the clothing, and yet some of those had fit less well than this…

He started in shock when he unexpectedly felt hands fall onto his head, loosening his crown, but when he looked up, ready to scold the tailor for his presumptuousness in daring to touch another man’s hair without permission, he saw Wen Ruohan standing behind him instead, a faint smile on his face.

Lan Qiren’s complaint froze in his throat.

Wen Ruohan, at least, did not violate the prohibition against touching another person’s forehead ribbon, avoiding it entirely as he skillfully wove out the guan Lan Qiren was wearing and replaced it with another in his own preferred style – silver instead of gold, and with a string of pearls that were woven into his hair and a single one that fell down to rest between his brows, just above his forehead ribbon.

That complete, Wen Ruohan put his hands on Lan Qiren’s shoulders and studied him in the mirror, his red eyes intent and thoughtful as he surveyed his handiwork.

“Very good,” he said, and his voice was thick with satisfaction.

Lan Qiren swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry for no reason he could explain.

“I knew pearls would suit you,” Wen Ruohan added, and Lan Qiren shook his head. “No? I think they do.”

“The rules –”

“Allow no more than three adornments on your waist, which this is not,” Wen Ruohan said smoothly. “And the rule against adorned beads and chains with bells is targeted at adornments that make unnecessary noise. You would not deny a member of your sect the right to wear a Jiang sect bell with its tongue removed, would you?”

“The Jiang sect only give their clarity bells to those who are in their sect, related by blood, or plan to marry in,” Lan Qiren objected, although he realized a moment later that he was quibbling over nonsense instead of getting to the key point. “I don’t need anything like this. It’s far too much.”

Wen Ruohan didn’t say anything; he only smiled.

“I should change back,” Lan Qiren said, uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”

“We wouldn’t want that, no,” Wen Ruohan murmured, and Lan Qiren quickly gathered up his clothing and retreated from the room. It was only when he had mostly changed that he realized that he hadn’t taken his original guan back from Wen Ruohan. Without much choice – going with his hair down would be far more inappropriate than being over-dressed – he left the pearls in place.

“You’re doing this just to embarrass me,” he accused Wen Ruohan as they returned to the Sun Palace.

“Perhaps,” Wen Ruohan hummed. “Who’s to say what my motives may be?”

“You! You can say!” Lan Qiren huffed, but he supposed this, too, was part of being brothers. “You’ll give me a new copy of our oath, right? Don’t forget again.”

“It’ll be in your quarters by evening,” Wen Ruohan promised, looking amused, and in the end he did better than that, a servant delivering the message while Lan Qiren was still putting away the odds and ends Wen Ruohan had bought for him during the day.

It occurred to Lan Qiren later that the move might have been calculated – he’d promptly forgotten anything else in favor of looking over the terms, which to his relief were mostly the classic ones, the elder guiding the younger, the younger obeying the elder, dire consequences for betraying their oath and bond, the usual.

There was an additional clause about loyalty and fidelity that seemed a little over-emphatic, almost as if it’d been cribbed from some marriage vow or subordinate’s oath – he supposed Wen Ruohan would have more reason to be paranoid about betrayal than most – and one about good faith and patience and education, which he suspected might have been his drunken self’s attempt to accommodate Wen Ruohan’s complaints about his excess enthusiasm, though he supposed it could alternatively be interpreted as an obligation for each of them to explain themselves to each other. Or maybe it was an obligation for Lan Qiren to educate other people at Wen Ruohan’s request - perhaps to step up and teach his sons one day? It was really very unclear, but then, such oaths usually were.

Alcohol was clearly prohibited for a reason, he thought to himself, and then shook his head, at this point more amused by it than anything else.

He only noticed that he was still wearing the stupid over-fancy guan when he started to head out to start the afternoon routine he had already started to turn into a habit: a walk through the gardens, physical training with the sword, and then musical training to conclude shortly before dinner, which he would share with Wen Ruohan, followed by another walk, this time in his sworn brother’s company. The routine gave him the time he needed to devote to his responsibilities as a cultivator, as well as some blissful time to himself; Wen Ruohan, he presumed, used the time for much the same purposes.

Lan Qiren scowled at his reflection in the tranquil lakewater in one of the garden pools, torn between wanting to go back to change the thing out – it would be ridiculous to expect him to do his usual training wearing something that probably cost more than his yearly allowance – and the knowledge that if he did so, he would have to miss out on some part of his routine, which he hated to do. Yet if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have another opportunity to remove it until after dinner…

“Lan-er-gongzi?”

Lan Qiren turned, surprised: it was Madame Wen, who he had not seen since his arrival. He raised his hands in salute, but to his surprise she waved it off. “Lan-er-gongzi,” she said. “Could I ask you for a favor?”

“Of course,” he said, and felt a frisson of fear when she put her hand on her belly. Surely it couldn’t have to do with…?

“Could you find my husband and ask him to visit the doctors?” she asked, biting her lower lip. “The servants can be indiscreet, and I don’t think I can go myself…”

“I’ll tell him at once,” Lan Qiren assured her, now truly alarmed by the implicit suggestion. “Do you know where he is?”

“At this time in the afternoon?” she said vaguely. “Oh, I’m not quite sure…probably in the third palace.”

She nodded towards one of the buildings, a little distant from the Sun Palace but not far.

Lan Qiren nodded. “Do you need anything – somewhere to sit, or…?”

Madame Wen shook her head. “I’ll go sit down. Don’t concern yourself for me.”

Lan Qiren nodded a second time – sitting seemed like a good idea – and headed towards the third palace at a brisk pace. As much as he usually hated breaking his afternoon routine, any risk to human life would always take preeminent status.

It occurred to him as he approached it that he hadn’t been to the third palace before, despite the tours he’d been on, although he supposed that it wasn’t so surprising, with him having only been there a week. The Wen sect’s domain, like its city, was vast and sprawling, teeming with people and buildings alike; it would take many visits, he expected, before he would learn it all. Still, Wen Ruohan had promised him the freedom to wander where he willed, and no one stopped him as he headed into the palace, seeking his sworn brother through the usual signs of his presence: the overwhelming concentration of qi, and the usual disarray of guards and servants that invariably had to rearrange themselves to account for the presence of their sect leader.

He found him, too.

Wen Ruohan was smiling the same smile he had given Lan Qiren earlier that day, full of satisfaction and pleasure and amusement, a bowl of wine dangling between his fingers as he leaned back in his seat, his entire posture suggesting that he was enjoying himself as he watched a good show – only what was in front of him was terror and blood and bile, men and women strapped to horrific devices as they screamed and bled and begged for mercy that they would not receive.

Lan Qiren must have made a sound, though he did not realize it, because Wen Ruohan turned to look at him, his eyebrows arching in surprise. “What are you doing in the Fire Palace, little Lan…?”

The Fire Palace, Lan Qiren thought, feeling strangely numb. Yes, that sounded right.

He’d heard all the rumors about it: how Wen Ruohan was violent and bloodthirsty, how he craved power and control, that he enjoyed torturing his enemies unmercifully until even death was a blessing.

He’d heard.

He’d just…disregarded it. Thought it was false, perhaps, or maybe he’d just lied to himself and pretended that because Wen Ruohan was kind to him that he was kind to everyone else.

“Who sent you here, little Lan?” Wen Ruohan asked, his brows coming together in a frown. “Tell me.”

He wasn’t happy. Of course he wasn’t; Lan Qiren wasn’t supposed to be here – he hadn’t been taken to this place, probably purposefully, and he was a creature of habit and routine, which he rarely if ever broke without warning. If he hadn’t feared for Madame Wen’s life, he would never have gone himself, much less in such a rush.

Madame Wen…she must have known what he would find here.

She’d known.

He should have known.

“Little Lan?”

An elder brother was meant to guide and educate the younger. Was this what he was supposed to let Wen Ruohan guide him towards?

“…Lan Qiren?”

Lan Qiren flinched violently at the sound of his name, but it spurred him into motion – he staggered back a few steps, unable to get his bearings for a moment, and then he grabbed blindly at some terrible-looking sharp objects lying on a nearby table waiting for their turn to be used. A flick of his wrist sent them into the throats of the victims, ending their suffering in a gout of blood, and then he turned on his heel and fled, tearing off the too-expensive guan as he did, the pearls falling on the ground behind him.

“Lan Qiren!”

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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hadarlaskey · 3 years

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Why Johnny Guitar remains a superior subversive western

A stranger wanders into a divided community. This is the plot of George Stevens’ iconic oater Shane, as its eponymous gunfighter drifts into a local dispute and sides with the wholesome, homespun underdogs, before moving on, injured, into an unknown future (or perhaps receding forever into a lost past).

It would also subsequently become the standard plot of many a Spaghetti western, after Sergio Leone’s A Fistful of Dollars borrowed its more cynical take on this story type wholesale from Akira Kurosawa’s Yojimbo, as a duplicitous stranger manipulates both sides of a local conflict. Nicholas Ray’s Johnny Guitar came out in 1954, one year after the release of Shane, and a good decade before the cycle of Spaghetti westerns got rolling. It feels like both a rejoinder to the black-and-white morality of Stevens’ film and a precursor to the anarchy of Leone’s work.

In its approach to the received tropes of the western, Johnny Guitar was to prove so subversive that critics did not know what to make of it upon its initial release, and in measuring the against the very values and standards of the genre that it was deconstructing, they found it wanting. In the decades since, its oddness among other oaters has been both recognised and celebrated, and it has been honoured with selection by the Library of Congress for preservation in the United States National Film Registry.

For a start, the laconic stranger Johnny “Guitar” (Sterling Hayden) has not so much drifted into town as been summoned for a job. And (ostensibly, at least) not a job as a gunman – even if convention dictates that he certainly knows his way around a firearm – but as a musician at Vienna’s. He’s not even really a stranger, even if the saloon’s owner, Vienna (Joan Crawford), does not at first acknowledge that she has as much, if not more, history with Johnny as with several of the other male characters in the film.

And if Vienna, and the gang of the Dancin’ Kid (Scott Brady), Turkey Ralston (Ben Cooper), Bart Lonergan (Ernest Borgnine) and Corey (Royal Dano) that she makes welcome in her establishment, seem like the kind of folk normally associated with villainy in a western, Johnny signs up with them rather than with the decent, law-abiding cattlemen from the small nearby town of Red Butte.

Johnny Guitar is a film that makes paradoxes of our preconceptions. The supposedly good townsfolk are driven by their own prejudices – and by their self-appointed arbiter of ethics Emma Small (Mercedes McCambridge) – to become a murderous lynch mob. Meanwhile the Dancin’ Kid’s supposedly vicious gang is driven to desperate criminal action precisely by everyone’s false assumption that they are criminals (“I’d hate to be run off for something we didn’t do,” the Dancin’ Kid observes, “So let’s do something.”).

Here good people are also bad, and bad people are also good, as Ray muddies the morality of the western and by extension America’s very foundations. It is also not hard to discern, in the witch hunt carried out by these otherwise decent, upright folk, a reflection of the McCarthyist persecutions that were still running rampant at the time Ray made his film.

The most subversive aspect of the film, though, is its gender politics. Johnny Guitar may be named after a man (even if “Guitar” is not his real surname), but it concerns a fight between two women (and its climactic showdown is also between these women, with the menfolk, including Johnny, left on the sidelines). In any other film, Vienna would represent the type of the ‘fallen woman’. Her saloon, regarded by locals as a den of iniquity, was built, as she freely admits, on her back. But it is a far classier joint than is normally seen in an oater, lit by chandeliers and staffed by croupiers and barmen dressed in clean, matching suits.

All this style seems incongruous given the saloon’s location in the middle of nowhere, beyond the limits of Red Butte (which is already only a small town). Yet Vienna – whose very name is a marker of civilisation – correctly sees her property as an investment in the future (“I intend to be buried here,” she says, “in the twentieth century”). For she knows, having “exchanged confidences” with a surveyor, that soon there will be a railway track passing right through the spot where she has staked her fortunes. This same coming change which Vienna happily rides, the rest of the townsfolk fear.

When Johnny first sees Vienna she is upstairs, sporting trousers rather than a dress, and also very much wearing the pants in this establishment, with all the men who work under her also literally looking up to her. “Never seen a woman who acts more like a man,” as employee Sam (Robert Osterloh) points out. “She looks like one, thinks like one, and sometimes makes me feel like I’m not.” Another employee, Old Tom (John Carradine), tells Johnny: “I never believed I’d end my years working for a woman – and liking it.” Not long afterwards, Vienna adopts the same pose on the staircase in confrontation with an armed posse of men from the town, calmly but firmly proving herself very much their superior.

These men from the town are not only outdrawn, outwitted and outdone by a woman, but also instigated by one. For determinedly leading them against both Vienna and the Dancin’ Kid is the puritanical Emma, whose hatred for them both is rooted in erotic feelings towards the Dancin’ Kid that she seeks to bury (“He makes her feel like a woman,” Vienna observes, “and that frightens her.”).

Like Vienna, Emma freely adopts traditional male roles, leading the men’s hunting parties and showing a willingness, even a keenness, to hang Vienna that her male partners by contrast openly lack. Yet unlike the sophisticated Vienna, Emma is small-minded and censorious, and bordering on psychopathic in her vendetta. That the two actresses famously did not get along (putting it mildly) on set only adds to the on-screen tension between them.

Though surrounding themselves with men, between them these two women both call the shots and eventually fire them, while Vienna, like Euripides’ ‘Medea’, lays out the societal double standards that have made her ascent (as queen of a domain she built herself) so improbable, so impressive – and so modern. If she likes to hear the sound of a roulette wheel turning, perhaps that is because she has spent her life playing against the odds, in a film where fortunes change rapidly.

“When a fire is burnt out, all you have left is ashes,” says Vienna of the relationship that she once had with Johnny, and that Johnny hopes to rekindle, using imagery that also foreshadows the film’s climactic conflagration. For Philip Yordan’s screenplay – adapted from Roy Chanslor’s 1953 novel, which was dedicated to Crawford, and which she had personally optioned – comes with the hard-boiled clip of a film noir, but also with a weighty resonance that makes every word count.

Johnny Guitar was shot in Trucolor, and its visual style constantly undermines the naturalism more normally associated with the western. Crawford, in particular, is always lit by DoP Harry Stradling to glow – an oasis of glamour, power and allure in a desert that does not want her there. Ray’s film is a western, but it is also an amplified melodrama, with a rich seam of deviant psychology just waiting to be disinterred from its dusty surface. Its time has come.

Johnny Guitar is available on Blu-ray for the first time in the UK from 20 September as part of Masters of Cinema series for Eureka! Entertainment.

The post Why Johnny Guitar remains a superior subversive western appeared first on Little White Lies.

source https://lwlies.com/articles/johnny-guitar-joan-crawford-sterling-hayden/

#movie

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haniiebeedraws · 4 years

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AlexeevCopper kids

Feel free to ask questions!

(I know I never really talk about my MC's or give info but I am trying to improve that)

Sophia Rowan Alexeev Copper

Age:11 House: Slytherin

She's mute, and people would normally think that she would be a introvert but are caught off guard by how open and friendly she is,her personality is fierce and strong loyal to those she cares about, and proudly wears her father's surname

fav foods are sour foods dislikes spicy food

Fav Color is Teal Pets she has a cat 2 bats and a owl

Fav class Herbology Least Fav COMC

Fav Teach Mr Longbottom Least Fav Filch (reason Mrs Norris bit her cat)

Oliver Cedric Alexeev Copper

Age:9 House: Slytherin

the second child and he's very different from sophia, he's very serious quiet, not very comfortable with large groups of people, very loyal to family and has a huge love for animals(like his mom and grandad)

Fav food is sweets Least fav sour/bitter

Fav color is red Pets lizard, 2 cats

Fav class Astrology Least Fav Potions

Fav teach Hagrid Least Fav Longbottom (he thinks he's too soft)

Mirna Nymphadora & Elijah Frederic Alexeev Copper

Age:8 House: Gryffindor

are twins, Mirna is older than Elijah but Steph and their dad don't tell them because they already argue enough. Both twins are hot head and brash, Mirna loves attention while Elijah likes calm they are very contradictory to eachother, will physically and verbally fight eachother just to prove the other wrong, love being babies by their parents and older siblings, they don't get along with the youngest.

Fav food m:sour e:spicy Least fav: mild

Fav color m:Peach e:yellow

Fav class m: Charms e: transfiguration

Least fav: Divination

Fav teach: m:Filch e: the transfiguration teach

Least fav: m: McGonagall e: trelawny

Camilla Danica Alexeev Copper

Age:4 House: Hufflepuff

she's the youngest sibling, very sweet, she's shy and meek, very observant likes to play with her siblings is easily scare by new things doesn't interact with others unless she's approached, spends lots of time with her mom only really approaches her dad when mom is busy.

Fav food: Spicy Least Fav: Cold

Fav color: Pink Pets: 3 bats, a owl

Fav Class Potions Least Fav DADA

Fav. teacher Ms McGonagall Least Fav. The DADA teacher

*sophia doesn't know Ben isn't her biological father, but he still loves her because she is his kid*

°edit I want to thank my friend @hogwartsmysterystory for letting me know Cooper is not right copper is°

#tsuyoshi dark wizard #stephanie alexeev #ben copper #sophia alexeev #oliver alexeev #mirna alexeev #elijah alexeev #camilla Alexeev #cooper/alexeev kids #alexeev family #feel free to ask questions #recently learned i spelled bens last name wrong #its not cooper it copper #so now the correct tag is #copperalexeev kids #hanipot

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ghostespresso · 4 years

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Bloom

So, after a year a hot minute of not writing anything, I’ve made an incredible return writing this self-indulgent drabble for Asra and Odessa, my apprentice. This is just a little something that takes place one year after Asra successfully brings Odessa back from her tragic fate. Will I ever write again? Doubtful. This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long. I did this on a whim with no request from others and I apologize for this plague upon your house.

Pairing: Asra Alzanar x Odessa Faye (Apprentice)

Summary: It’s been one year since Odessa has returned to Asra, and she finally has to comfort him for once.

Warnings: none except emotional distress

Words: 2253

Her name is Odessa.

It rolls off the tongue at just the right pace every time it is said, and it is always addressed to her. This much she knows.

Her surname is Faye.

Short enough to balance out her first name perfectly, it also sounds quite delightful when spoken. This much she knows.

But Odessa Faye doesn't know much at all.

One year ago, she woke up with no memory, the fragility of a flower pot, and searing pain all over her tired body. The first thing anyone ever said to her was her name.

"Odessa?"

Even in his panic, he had made her name sound wonderful. His eyes had been red and his face had been decorated in tears, like he'd been crying for a long time. He had asked question after question as he held her face in his hands, delicately, like he was afraid she'd disappear with his touch. She didn't understand a word he was saying at the time, but now she knows he had been asking if she was okay. Still, a year later, Odessa has never seen someone look so absolutely relieved. Sure, he had sobbed, but all the while he had been smiling. Though, she couldn't understand why he'd be so relieved to see her.

She remembers how lost she had felt, confused and overwhelmed by her surroundings. She simply remained blank to what happened around her, her brain calling on muscle memory that her body didn’t seem to have. It had left her disoriented for a while, at least for a few days until her body felt right to her - until it felt like her’s. Then she began understanding everything she was being asked, like a veil had been lifted somehow.

Even after a year, Odessa remains completely confused about her accident. All she understood was that it had to be pretty bad if it cost her all of her memories. Relearning everything wasn't too bad either, after her body and mind began to cooperate. Walking had been a pretty simple function to remember after a couple weeks, and while reading had taken her longer to master, all of the books scattered around the shop sure did help. She’d grown to assume it was just taking a while to grasp normality from beyond her memory loss. After a while, she was even remembering the names of places and people around the city of Vesuvia with ease, as if some sense of her memory had been brought back to life. Yet, she couldn't remember everything she wanted to remember, especially him.

Asra was the only person she truly wished she could remember from before her accident. He was always there, helping, teaching, being patient as she slowly took her life back. But, there was so much she didn't know about him.

Sure, his favorite meal is blue-tongued skink, but what about it makes it worthy to be his favorite? His favorite season is Spring, but what makes Spring so wonderful to him? And his favorite flower is Belladonna, but why does this flower speak to him more than the others?

It seems to her that all of her knowledge of Asra starts and stops with the basics. They knew each other before her accident for an undisclosed amount of time, he is a very skilled magician, he has a wonderful snake familiar named Faust, and he cares for her above himself for the most part. Sometimes she blames herself for that, as him taking care of her takes up all of his time when he's not running the shop. But there's just something about him.

Something about him feels different than everyone else. The polite shop patrons and vendors who have known her longer than she has known herself don't cause the same reaction with her as Asra does. He makes her happy, safe, and is just so warm she can't help but think he should be telling her more, relying on her more. But, then again, she blames these frustrations on herself as well, seeing as she doesn't speak.

Now, it didn't take her long to realize she could speak. Mimicry is a wonder, honestly, and Odessa started mimicking Faust's one-word phrases about a week and a half into being awake. But her voice had sounded so very, very broken. Harsh syllables and tongue-tying on what should be simple words. There was little structure to her speech, and it makes her afraid. What was wrong with her? Everyone else seemed to speak just fine, why couldn't she? Admittedly, the problem made her even more concerned about exactly what had happened to her, but she couldn't bring herself to ask Asra. Instead, she simply resigned herself to signing away at him, writing with people who didn’t understand her hands, or even tapping objects to get people's attention.

Next to her talking to herself as a poor excuse for practice, and having Faust rate her improvement, nobody else has heard her speak. Especially Asra. Asra has a very soft, airy voice to him; a voice that has calmed Odessa down more times than she can count. Every word he speaks is finely woven, like he could cast a spell with anything he said. It adds to his rather mischievous personality, and is something Odessa deems a source of comfort in her life. In comparison, she sounds dreadful. It's embarrassing to say the least, as well as the fact that excess speaking makes her throat hurt. She knows that practice is all that will help, but she's afraid of how long it will take. What if this is just her voice now? What if she's doomed to sound like she's gargling gravel for the rest of her life? Trifle things to worry about, really.

Especially tonight, as she sits in bed with her legs folded and blankets up to her chin, she has her eyes fixed on the slumped figure of her most treasured magician on the other end of the room. He settled himself on a stool - one she had used to sit on and look out of the window when she first woke up - only he had his head firmly planted in his hands as his body shook so much she could see it from her spot. Odessa's heart pulsed in her chest so intensely, she thought it might hurt itself.

Was Asra okay? Has something happened?

Whatever it is, she could tell he was hurting.

Asra sat, hands clutching his hair as his palms dug into his eyes, trying to make it stop. He shouldn't be doing this, he had Odessa back after all.

But, oh, what had he done?

It has been a year since she came back to him, and she was doing so well for only being back a year. But she was so different. Odessa was someone who always had a sense of reckless adventure to her. She was always so incredibly able to do her own, innovative thing whenever necessary. Her heart of gold, and something she called “blind optimism”, had always kept her doing what she deemed best, even if someone disagreed. But now, she was so dependent on him. Asra blamed himself, as he coddled her most of the time, but he had to. She had returned to him a clean slate, he couldn't just leave her to her own devices. She still looked like before, smiled like before, cried like before, but she was missing something. A very necessary spark that had once made Odessa proud of herself.

Asra remembers entering the shop for the first time all those years ago and watching while Odessa scolded a withering plant from behind the main counter. Apparently, said plant was rather upset that the weather outside was gloomy, but Odessa countered by saying that there was no reason to wilt.

“Is the sun not allowed a bad day?”

She had been confident that even the sun was allowed moments to hide, telling the defiant plant that wilting in protest would only hurt itself. That was all it took for the plant to perk right back up where it should be and bloom gloriously.

He remembers the first time he watched her open the shop and watching ever plant in the room reach for her as though she were the sun. In response, she greeted every one of them, tended to all of their needs, and then opened for business.

He remembers her eyes constantly glowing with this indescribable sparkle that seemed to flare every time a new opportunity came around. She was always so good, and watching her now felt like a punishment for his selfishness.

Now, her plants in the shop didn't reach for her, though they thrived from her care. She didn't carry that playful energy of someone who would argue with a defiant flower if it didn't like the gloomy weather. She always agreed with Asra’s overly-cautious rules, never challenging him with that warm smile and something wise to make him think. That indescribable sparkle has yet to return to its rightful place in her eyes. It's like he brought her back, but her memory loss has left a part of her behind.

Asra has never felt so terribly guilty in his entire life.

He did this to her. He brought Odessa back because he knew how much he needed her, but he never stopped to think about what it could do to her. Will she ever truly be happy like this?

As if on cue, Asra's back suddenly feels warm and heavy, making him pull his head from his hands. Around him were strong, olive-toned arms, with hands turned so their palms faced the sky. Asra's smile spread against his tears and doubt as he placed his hands over hers and locked them together. Odessa took this as permission to further press herself against his back. She'd never had to comfort Asra before; this was usually the other way around.

Asra could have melted right there in her arms and been content. He pushed himself back against her, his head being nuzzled slightly by her chin. This will be okay. They can go from here and it doesn't have to be exactly like before. He just needs her here with him and that is all. She'll come into her own element, even if it takes some time, and that's-

"Asra?"

Rough and crackly is not what she had intended, but that's what happened when she spoke. She sounded like the vocal personification of chapped lips, but she couldn't take it back now. Asra had obviously heard, but she's unsure of what to do now. He stopped moving when she spoke, so was it really that bad? One deep breath is all she needs and-

"It's going to be okay."

That was much more choppy than only saying his name, but Asra had never heard a more beautiful sound. He allowed his grip to tighten over her hands for a split second as he turned to look up at her.

"You... you can..."

He was so in awe his voice came out even lighter than usual, but he was afraid she'd stop if he wasn't careful. Odessa didn't want to look at him, she was embarrassed, but she cared too much to not make eye contact. Immediately, she wished she hadn't.

Tears streamed from Asra's violet eyes while his lower lip quivered, seemingly of its own accord. Odessa tensed and pulled one of her hands back to rest on her own throat. Was it-

"That bad?" as the question fell upon Asra's ears, he stood from his stool smoothly and swiftly as he began to smile brightly through his tears. His hands rested upon each side of her face, pushing her hair away so he could see her perfectly.

"No! No, no, no, not bad! It's perfect! Perfect, perfect, perfect!", his excited whispers were almost drowned out by his tears that still had yet to stop. Actually, Odessa's fairly certain he's crying even harder now.

Her hands flew up to his face, wiping away his tears with the look of utmost confusion in her eyes. But, Asra just grinned. It was a watery, half-drowned kind of grin, but it was bright.

"I'm happy, don't worry! I'm so, so happy!" he started to smooth her hair back while his forehead came to rest against hers. Happy? Odessa's own smile grew, and she lightly pushed her forehead against his to add the slightest bit of pressure. Happy.

"Me too!"

Her bright smile and crackly response was all it took for Asra to break. What was left of his facade shattered on the spot as the floodgates opened and audible sobs shook his body. He quickly crumbled where he stood, his face pushing into the crook of Odessa's neck as his hands desperately began to cling to her back.

Shocked, Odessa quickly mimicked something Asra had once done to soothe her, arms wrapping around her mentor, one hand rubbed his back while the other cradled his head. She leaned her cheek against his head, wondering if sadness and relief were often experienced together like this.

Asra didn’t even try to remain quiet in his sobbing as he buried himself further into her. He thought he was relieved when she came back to him, but that wasn't even close to what he felt now. She was happy, and for a moment, she had sounded just like she used to, the faintest spark blooming in her eyes.

#the arcana game #asra x fan apprentice #asra x mc #asra alzanar x odessa faye #odessa x asra #odessa faye #asra alnazar #this made me hurt while typing so Have Fun #I try my best babey #tess.txt

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purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

932

What's your favourite sport? Do you prefer to watch it or play it?: I love pro wrestling, if you count that as a sport. I definitely prefer to just stay in front of a TV – I have never been in a ring, nor am I physically fit to even give it a shot without getting harshly injured. Conversely, I love table tennis but I’d rather play it than watch a game.

Who was the last person to send you a friend request on Facebook?: It was a stranger who, upon checking, seems to be some sort of spam account promoting a pyramid scheme. Happy to nope the fuck out of there.

Have you ever been to that person's house?: Definitely not. I don’t add people I didn’t know on any level, anyway.

How recently did you wash your hands?: This morning when I cleaned up after Cooper.

How many girls do you know named Emma?: Not a common name here, so I don’t know any Emmas.

[trigger warning under this I guess. Lots of angst going on at the moment.]

Are you upset, for any reason at all?: Yeah. I’ve been feeling very upset and under stress lately...to give you an idea, I find it a personal achievement to have gotten up and taken this survey. I’m at least self-aware that this is a temporary slump, but while it’s here hanging around, it really sucks to be in it.

How did you feel when you woke up today?: Shitty. The only reason I got up at all was to feed my dogs but otherwise I’ve been glued to either the couch or my bed.

When you're stressed, what helps you to relax or calm down?: Lately, it’s episodes of Good Mythical Morning. Rhett, Link, and their crew will never have any idea just how much they’ve helped this 22 year old, now-wondering-what-her-purpose-is-in-life fresh college graduate keep sane, but I’m glad they have hours upon hours of content and podcasts lying around to keep me company while no one else can.

What were you doing before you started this survey?: I finished another survey that I abandoned yesterday, and was watching GMM to fill up the silence in my room.

Is there something else you should be doing, that's more important?: I’ve been job-hunting 24/7 but lately I’ve been giving myself a break on weekends since no one will be processing applications or booking interviews on a Saturday anyway.

When was the last time you neglected to do something that you'd planned?: Around noon today.

Is there someone that can always make you smile no matter how bad you feel?: Apparently not. I’ve been a wreck all month so far and nothing has worked. Before September, I certainly thought animals or certain humans worked as cures for me.

Do you have any friends that you feel don't fully appreciate you?: I don’t feel that way about them. I think my friends care for me a whole lot, which I appreciate. I’ve had friends come to my DMs quite a few times in the last few days with messages of support since I’ve been a little vocal about how sad I’ve been feeling these days, so I for sure don’t feel invisible. Making me feel present is the best gift anyone could give me.

When was the last time someone told you that you were beautiful?: Last week when Gab came over.

Who was the last person that apologised to you?: Myself.

What were they apologising for?: Haven’t been looking out for myself recently.

Do you think they meant it?: I guess not, because I still haven’t stopped being destructive towards myself.

Would you be embarrassed if your parents looked at your Facebook?: I have them as my friends so they see everything. But I’m 22, so while they can complain about some of my posts (and it’s usually the political ones lol), they can’t tell me to take anything down anymore the same way they were able to do so when I was younger.

Describe the personality of the person you have feelings for.: She’s very warm, understanding, generous, and immeasurably protective of the people she loves.

What does your pencil case look like? What's in it?: I have a plush dog pencilcase that I use for my pens and pencils (given by my sister) and a pink pencilcase with a floral design that holds my highlighters (given by Jane).

In your Facebook friends list, who is the first person listed under 'D'?: Some girl named Abby whose surname begins with D. She was someone from my high school and we mutually know each other, but we’re not friends and we’ve never even talked.

How did you meet him/her?: I’ve never talked to her but I’ve known of her since grade school I guess? since she’s my sister’s batchmate.

Did the last person you kissed have facial hair?: No.

You're locked in a room with your ex. Any problems?: It would just be my girlfriend too so there wouldn’t be any problems, except that I’d probably break down crying upon seeing her again because I’ve barely pulled myself together over the last week and have had to go through it alone.

Be honest. What are you most afraid of?: These days I’m definitely doubting my capabilities and achievements and all the shit I’ve put on my resumé and portfolio, and now I’m scared if any company will even give me a chance. I’m honestly holding a little bit of resentment for every employed person right now because I have seen absolutely no one talk about how brutal this whole process/waiting game is, lol. This is so SHITTY, is it just difficult for me or what???? I’m so baffled.

In the last 24 hours, have you seen or spoken to anyone you dislike?: I’ve dealt with myself, but that’s it.

What colour are the eyes of the last person that told you they loved you?: Dark brown.

What is a word or phrase that you say often?: I like saying “I guess” because it makes me sound unsure about most things and thus makes me not 100% accountable if things go wrong hah. I do have another answer that’s more in line with the angst and depression I’ve been going through recently, and it’s that I’ve repeating BoJack Horseman’s ‘piece of shit’ monologue to himself, but this time saying it to myself.

Name 3 songs that remind you of someone special.: Sparks by Coldplay; anything by Mitski; and anything by St. Vincent.

How much chocolate do you have in your house atm, if any?: We have...a lot. We still have the chocolate cake from Nina’s birthday and we recently received an entire pack of various fun-size chocolate bars like Twix, Three Musketeers, etc. from my aunt. We also have chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream that I normally would finish up in a day, but I’ve been saving it for every future job rejection I receive.

Who is the most intelligent person you know?: Chesca.

Do you have younger siblings? If you do, are you protective of them?: Yes. I’m protective of my sister but I don’t show it lol. We are not showy in this family.

Who was the last person you insulted?: Idk probably a politician on social media.

What are the other members of your household doing at this moment?: I have not gone out of my room all day...I did not miss this sensation. It’s been a while since I’ve locked myself up for this long.

Do you have any neighbours that you don't get along with?: There’s a house behind ours that loudly plays 80s and 90s power ballads and love songs and it gets insanely irritating and makes the neighborhood feel cheap, but I keep my feelings to myself and I’ve never actually confronted them about it and asked them to stop or decrease their speaker’s volume.

How recently did you speak to the last person you kissed?: Like 30 minutes ago. I’m not very talkative these days and it was actually just the second time today that I initiated a bried conversation. I feel bad for her, and I can’t wait to get better so I can start treating her right again.

Who was the last person you told to get lost, or something similar?: I don’t usually tell this to people.

Give me a random line from the last song you listened to.: “We know better so we’d both better go.”

Have you ever had an argument with the last person you Facebook messaged?: Lots. She’s my girlfriend lol.

Do you have any plans for tonight?: I don’t know. If I feel any better, I’d practice and review for my upcoming interview this Tuesday, but if I’m not okay by then...I don’t know. I’ve stopped planning my days out recently and just go where my legs take me.

Where were you at 9 o'clock last night?: I was at the dining table trying to take a survey, but I quickly lost interest in it.

In the past week, have you slept past midday?: Kind of. Like I mentioned, Gabie’s on the night shift so I’ve been keeping her company, which means I occasionally take naps in the afternoon.

Is there anything happening tomorrow, that you're looking forward to?: No. I’m so scared of tomorrows now.

Is there anyone you used to be friends with, that you now dislike?: I dislike Athenna only because of her attitude and the way she treated Angela during the last few days of their friendship. I don’t have any personal beef with her, at least I don’t think I have. She likes stirring up shit though and I won’t be surprised if she was able to make up a story about me to get our other friends to dislike me.

What is your least favourite chocolate bar?: Eh, I’m pretty picky about chocolate bars so I have more brands that I dislike than the ones I do enjoy. I only like Reese’s, Butterfinger, Twix, and Whittaker’s.

Do any of your friends or relatives have the same birthday as you?: Just this girl I went to grade school with named Mitch. Otherwise, April 21 babies are a rare breed apparently.

Name the last song that made you cry.: O by Coldplay.

Who do you miss at this moment?: The me from like two weeks ago lol. How far I’ve fallen.

Where is that person?: Stuck in August, I guess.

Have you ever dyed your hair an unnatural colour?: No.

Have you had any deep conversations today?: No.

Is your television on atm?: It’s not, but I have my phone playing GMM videos on YouTube to keep me company.

If it is, what are you watching?: It’s one of their product test videos.

Are you wearing anything blue?: My shirt is blue, actually.

Who were the last 5 people to make you smile?: Rhett and Link, and that’s pretty much it.

Do you use Twitter?: Sure.

Tell me about the last YouTube video you watched. They’re pitting brand name cleaning products and natural cleaning products against each other and seeing which one is more effective. I love these videos of theirs, hahaha.

Is there anything else you'd like to say?: No, I feel like I’ve grilled myself enough in this survey.

#survey #surveys

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thephoenixmagician · 4 years

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Adara Orasa || Character Survey

And another, for my other child. Again, from @cela-astral-projection

Gonna be long so, it’s under the cut!

Basic Questions

First name?: Adara

Surname?: Orasa

Middle Names?: Nowel

Nicknames?: Ada, The Seeress, The Iron Diplomat

Date of Birth?: September 13

Age?: Early twenties.

Physical Appearance

Height?: 5’ 4”

Weight?: 140lbs

Build?: Lean

Hair Color?: Pastel pink, almost silver

Hairstyle?: Usually down and wavy, but will sweep it back into a bun

Eye Color?: Light jade that can be mistaken for grey.

Glasses or contact lenses?: She’s blind.

Distinguishing facial features?: Sharp cheekbones and jaw

Which facial feature is most prominent?: Her eyes

Which bodily feature is most prominent?: Her straight posture

Other distinguishing features?: Has minor scarring around her eyes, but it’s only noticeable up close.

Skin?: Pale, almost ivory. LIght brush of freckles over cheeks and nose.

Hands?: Slender, and soft. Keeps her nails short and clean.

Makeup?: She’ll wear it but doesn’t care for it much since she can’t see it.

Scars?: The brand on her shoulder blade, just like her sister’s. The scarring around her eyes looks like webbing. Cuts on her wrists (that she keeps covered).

Birthmarks?: None.

Tattoos?: No.

Physical Handicaps?: Fully blind. Chronic migraines.

Type of clothes?: Loose and flowy so she doesn’t feel restricted. She’s partial to softer fabrics too.

What are their feet like?: Narrow and soft. Always cold.

Race / Ethnicity?: They’re based of Danish or Norwegian for the most part. I haven’t put too much thought into it, really.

Are they in good health?: For the most part. When the migraines get to be too much, she’ll have to rest for at least a day.

Do they have any disabilities?: Just blindness, I guess.

Personality

What words or phrases do they overuse?: “No, I don’t see what you mean.”

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?: Optimist.

Are they introverted or extroverted?: Introvert.

Do they ever put on airs?: Never.

What bad habits do they have?: None actually.

What makes them laugh out loud?: Her sister’s personality. Rhea never fails to get a laugh out of her.

How do they display affection?: Gifts, mostly. She’s a little shy to physical affection.

How do they want to be seen by others?: Normal, and capable.

Strongest character trait?: Iron will. She will never back down.

Weakest character trait?: Her unwillingness to let people help her personally. She doesn’t want to rely on people because she doesn’t want them to worry for her.

How competitive are they?: Isn’t.

How do they react to praise?: She’ll smile and say thank you, but is a little surprised.

Weakest character trait?: She’s receptive, especially if it’s constructive and will help find a better solution.

What is their greatest fear?: Not being able to properly care for or protect her son.

What are their biggest secrets?: When her sister died, she’d tried to make the Deal with the Devil, too. But the price of her son’s sight was too much for her. She’d never told anyone.

What is their philosophy of life?: “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

What haunts them?: She wishes she’d done more in insisting her sister stay. Maybe she wouldn’t have died…

What will they stand up for?: What she believes is right and the people.

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?: Both, really. She likes the outdoors because she can listen to everything and get fresh air. But indoors she can have peace and quiet, especially in her room.

What is their sinful little habit?: Would live off chocolate covered strawberries if she could.

What sense do they most rely on?: Hearing.

How do they treat people better than them?: As equals.

How do they treat people worse than them?: As equals.

What do they consider an overrated virtue?: Submission.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?: She’d like her sight back… But she’d never say that aloud, especially not in front of Rhea.

What is their obsession?: Flowers of all kinds. She likes to touch and smell them. Anything that gives of a scent.

What are their pet peeves?: Arrogance. Unwillingness to cooperate. Pen clicking would be one (if in Modern AU).

Friends and Family

Is their family big or small?: Small.

What is their perception of a family?: People she cares about.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger?: Just Rhea, who is 2 years older.

Describe their best friend.: Launa, her head maid. She’s always been extremely supportive of Adara.

Idea best friend?: Someone she can trust to not judge her for what she’s done and willing to do.

Do they have any pets?: No.

Past and Future

What was your character like as a baby? As a child?: As a baby, she was really quiet. She didn’t cry much or fuss. As a child, she was shy but curious. She’d follow Rhea into whatever adventure she found for them.

Did they grow up rich or poor?: Rich, until they moved to Vesuvia.

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected?: Nurtured.

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?: She tried to end her marriage with her husband a few months in because she had foreseen a terrible future in one of her premonitions -and wanted to save him. But it hadn’t been their’s she’d seen. He’d died shortly after and never got to take it back.

What are their ambitions?: To take care of the people and rebuild her kingdom.

What smells remind them of their childhood?: As she’s super sensitive to smell, she’s highly aware of scents similar to her parents. Scents of lillies and pine are a big one.

What was their childhood ambition?: Become an ambassador to represent Moonsea on the outside.

What is their best childhood memory?: Shortly after becoming blind and learning how to focus her other senses, Rhea had taken it upon herself to cover the room in every flower she could manage to grow inside. We’re talking about covered in roses, lilacs, snapdragons, you name it. Rhea brought each one to Adara and let her touch and smell them.

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend?: She’d imagined someone walking with her everywhere, who she called the Silver Lady. She had the antlers of a stag and eyes like a doe.

Love

Do they believe in love at first sight?: No.

How do they behave in a relationship?: Respectfully and wholly committed.

What sort of sex do they have?: Relatively vanilla with a little spice. Too much can cause sensory overload.

Has your character ever been in love?: Just once before, to her late husband.

Have they ever had their heart broken?: No.

Conflict

How do they respond to a threat?: Ultimate diplomat. Will use words first and stay calm. If required, she’s not against using magic to protect others and herself.

Are they most likely to fight with their fists or tongue?: Tongue.

What is your character’s kryptonite?: Her son and sister.

If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?: Assuming every soul is safe, she won’t bother even if she could get something.

How do they perceive strangers?: What strangers?

What are their phobias?: Silence.

What is their choice of weapon?: Words, or water magic.

What living person do they most despise?: Lucio.

Have they ever been bullied or teased?: Plenty of times. But Rhea always stepped in.

Where do they go when they’re angry?: For a walk outside, so she can count her steps and calm down.

Work, Education, and Hobbies

What is their current job?: Vesuvia’s Ambassador of Moonsea, High Princess of Moonsea

What do they think about their current job?: She enjoys it. She likes being able to help and protect people.

What are some of their past jobs?: Used her abilities of premonition to get visions for a small price, when she needed to feed herself.

What are their hobbies?: Collects different scents so she can always recall a memory with them.

Educational background?: Received tons of formal training as a royal. What she lacked in magical talent, she made up for in herbalism and healing.

Intelligence level?: Extremely smart, almost intimidatingly so.

Do they have any specialist training?: Extraordinary herbalist and medical knowledge.

Do they play a sport? Are they any good?: She’s not fond of sports.

What is their socioeconomic status?: Upper class.

Favorites

What is their favorite animal?: Spiders, like her familiar Vee.

Which animal do they dislike the most?: Snakes. Just don’t let it touch her and she’s groovy.

What place would they most like to visit?: Home.

What is the most beautiful thing they’ve seen?: The last thing she’d seen was her sister’s crying face. She’ll never forget that.

What is their favorite song?: Song of the Sea - Ashley Serena

Music, art, reading preferred?: Music all the way. She’s also got a hauntingly beautiful voice.

What is their favorite color?: All of them.

Favorite food?: Salmon

Possessions

What is in their fridge?: Fruit, pre-bottled water, orange juice, cider…

What is on their bedside table?: Nothing, she’s knocked everything off too many times in the mornings.

What is in their pockets?: Nothing.

What is their most treasured possession?: A fragment of a necklace she’ll never be without, attached to a leather cord and bound to her wrist.

Spirituality

Do they believe in the afterlife?: She does.

What are their religious views?: Spiritual.

Are they superstitious?: No.

What would they like to be reincarnated as?: A deer.

How would they like to die?: Painlessly.

What is your character’s spirit guide?: The Silver Lady.

What is their zodiac sign?: Virgo.

Daily Life

What are their eating habits?: Eats like a bird.

Do they have any allergies?: No.

Describe their home.: Minimalist and spacious. No carpeting allowed.

Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder?: Minimalist.

What do they do first thing on a weekday morning?: Breakfast in the warm sun while Luana tells her the agenda for the day.

What do they do on a Sunday afternoon?: Listening to music.

What do they do on a Friday night?: Stay in and let someone read to her.

What is the soft drink of choice?: She’d be a Sprite kind of girl (in a Modern AU).

What is their alcoholic drink of choice?: White wines.

Miscellaneous

What is their character archetype? From this list: The Caregiver.

Who is their hero?: Her sister.

What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween?: A ghost.

Are they comfortable with technology?: Not very, but she thinks it’s got practical uses.

If they could save one person who would it be?: Her son first, then her sister.

If they could call one person for help, who would it be?: Her sister, or Nadia.

What is their greatest extravagance?: Buying perfumes and colognes to never use but keep just to smell when she gets lonely.

Do they believe in happy endings?: She does.

What would they ask a fortune-teller?: For a reading about the future of her family.

#Adara Orasa #arcana oc #character survey #i love her and she's precious

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sky-mxxn · 4 years

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“Extremely detailed character sheet template”

found here

Character Chart Character’s full name: Skylar Ryūzaki Reason or meaning of name: Skylar means “Eternal life and strength” in English while in Dutch, it means; “A Shelter” and lastly, in American English; “The Sky, Guarded, Scholar, Learned One”. As for Ryūzaki; this surname is used as 竜崎, 龍崎, 竜嵜 or 劉崎 with 竜 (ryuu, ryou, rou, ise, tatsu) or 龍 (ryuu, ryou, rou, tatsu), both meaning "dragon, imperial," 劉 (ryuu, ru, koro.su) meaning "faded, kill en masse, logging axe, peeling (paint off a wall, etc), sparse, weapon of war," 崎 and 嵜 (ki, sai, saki, misaki), the first meaning "cape, promontory, spit" and the second meaning "promontory, steep." Character’s nickname: Sky Reason for nickname: It’s easier to call her Sky than Skylar Birth date: December 5th [REDACTED] Physical appearance Age: 23 How old does he/she appear: 19 Weight: [REDACTED] Height: 5’ 6” Body build: Short, a pear body shape, full hips & thighs, narrow shoulder with a smaller bust Shape of face: - Eye color: Crimson Red Glasses or contacts: None Skin tone: Warm Beige & Warm Undertone Distinguishing marks: None Predominant features: None Hair color: Midnight Blue Type of hair: Straight Hairstyle: Ponytail Voice: Minami Hamabe Overall attractiveness: 7/10 Physical disabilities: None Usual fashion of dress: A black-collared shirt with dark blue or black vest, along with white pants, combat boots and a beige trench coat. Favorite outfit: That outfit above ^ Jewelry or accessories: Fingerless black gloves, gold earrings. Personality Good personality traits: Friendly, loyal, cooperative, respectful, adaptable Bad personality traits: Reckless, stubborn, regretful, stoic, calculating Mood character is most often in: Friendly. Sense of humor: Kinda dark and sarcastic Character’s greatest joy in life: Sleeping in a tree for one whole day Character’s greatest fear: Getting her head chopped off by someone she trust the most. Why?: She hates it when someone decapitate someone’s head with a guillotine or an axe. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?: All of her friends forget her. Character is most at ease when: she is surrounded by kittens and puppies. Most ill at ease when: Someone is being rude to an elderly person Enraged when: Someone kill or harm an animal. Depressed or sad when: When she couldn’t save the animal or caused someone’s death. Priorities: None. Life philosophy: You only die once, better life the rest of your life. If granted one wish, it would be: Just save the wish Why?: No reason Character’s soft spot: Illegal racing Is this soft spot obvious to others?: No. Greatest strength: Her skills in fighting, racing. Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Procastination. Biggest regret: Did not attend an anime convention because it clash with her job Minor regret: Did not managed to play Dance Dance Revolution Biggest accomplishment: Winning a lot of illegal races and become the Queen of the Streets Minor accomplishment: Getting caught by the police. Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Learning that she is an illegal racer? Why?: Because she might be a getaway driver for someone else. Character’s darkest secret: Secretly watch porn when she’s bored. Does anyone else know?: Nope. (until now, that is) Goals Drives and motivations: Trying to have a normal life as a librarian. Immediate goals: Probably talk to a therapist. Long term goals: Join the government secret spy group or isolate herself from the world How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Not procrastinating How other characters will be affected: None. (She’s a loner) Past Hometown: Kyoto, Japan Type of childhood: Tough and brutal. Lots of training and no happy moments Pets: None First memory: Getting beat up by other people Most important childhood memory: Played shogi with the Grandmaster and won. Why: Because it was her first victory. Childhood hero: None Dream job: A librarian Education: The way of the ninja but she have tutors teaching subjects that are in middle school and high school Religion: None Finances: None Present Current location: New York Currently living with: herself (if you minus her figures) Pets: None. Religion: None. Occupation: Full time explorer and part time mercenary. Finances: Good, I guess. Family Mother: [REDACTED] Relationship with her: None Father: [REDACTED] Relationship with him: None Siblings: None Relationship with them: None Spouse: None Relationship with him/her: None Children: None Relationship with them: None Other important family members: Close friends that she can trust and hopefully, none will backstab her Favorites Color: Red Least favorite color: Green Music: All types. Food: Raw, spicy, italian and the odd food too. Like eating Sago worms. Literature: Horror, crime, action. Form of entertainment: Video games, board games, movies. Expressions: poker face Mode of transportation: a sports car Most prized possession: Sugoi Steel Cyber Ninja O Katana Samurai Battle Ready Functional Sword Habits Hobbies: Playing video games, visiting the arcade, eating food, training and sleeping. Plays a musical instrument?: None. Plays a sport?: Parkour How he/she would spend a rainy day: Reading a book. Spending habits: Anime figures, video game figures. Smokes: None. Drinks: Occasionally Other drugs: None. What does he/she do too much of?: Training What does he/she do too little of?: Taking care of herself by exerting herself Extremely skilled at: Racing, parkour and combat Extremely unskilled at: Cooking Nervous tics: Scratch herself until she bleed Usual body posture: Slouch, sometimes stand up straight. Mannerisms: Polite and quiet. Peculiarities: Too quiet. Traits Optimist or pessimist? : Optimist Introvert or extrovert? : Introvert Daredevil or cautious? : Both Logical or emotional? : Logical Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? : Methodical and Neat Prefers working or relaxing? : Both Confident or unsure of himself/herself? : Sometimes confident, sometimes unsure of herself Animal lover? : Yes. Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: Honestly, to herself, she feels empty and worthless to everyone she meet. One word the character would use to describe self: A loner One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: She is one weird woman. Sky is friendly bot to chat with, always full of smiles and likes to make puns at the worse moments. She has this optimistic side when things go down. No matter what, she’s awfully positive and smiling but deep in her spark, she is the opposite. What does the character consider his/her best personality trait?: Friendly What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait?: Stubborn What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic?: Always smiling and have no care in the world. What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic?: The lines on her arms, she’s been self harming herself on a daily basis. How does the character think others perceive him/her: A weirdo who has red eyes and blue hair, a worthless sack of shit that should be dead than alive. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: The tendency to do reckless things and get hurt in the process. Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: None Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Answer: None. Person character most hates: None Best friend(s): None Love interest(s): None Person character goes to for advice: None Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: None Person character feels shy or awkward around: None Person character openly admires: None Person character secretly admires: None Most important person in character’s life before story starts: The Grandmaster After story starts: None (In a nutshell, she’s a lonely gal)

(This is human!Sky, not her usual Transformer self; Skymoon)

Tagged by: @cyberninja

Tagging: @illusionaryanger @athenafire

#「 tagged 」

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sparda3g · 6 years

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Food Wars! Shokugeki no Soma Chapter 270 Review

The case is closed. Monarch is defeated by the power of motherly love. Now Soma and Megumi can go home without worrying about the Midnight Chefs. Well, that’s what I would like to say until this chapter dropped the bomb. Just as I thought, this mini-arc was done to build up a grander stage. With the shocking development at the end, it has gotten me interested to say the least.

For a mini-arc, I thought it was good with some relaxation and silly antics, even though it was designed that way. Monarch went from overlord edgy man to a mama’s boy. What a character development. At least it is humorous now with him remixing his language while acting like a kindergarten. I don’t blame him; Megumi is a sunshine mother.

It’s funny that I once said that Megumi is going to make him her pawn. When I said that, I meant in a tyranny way, not a family business. Oh well, seeing how he is in full command under her, I guess this is the most gentle dominant relationship ever. I chuckled at the nickname, “Mama Megumi.” The problem is solved and everyone that went missing have returned. But who cares. That chef wants a rematch right now. Chef’s pride is a scary sin.

With everything being settled, the arc can end on a happy note and Soma and Megumi can return home with good news. Even when far apart, the dynamic between Soma and Erina is sweet. I like how Soma sounds like he did a lot of work as well, when in reality, he was more enthused by the scenery. Good work, team! The only missing piece is why the Midnight Chefs are even invading in the first place. That’s a good point. That sound to me a setup for a bigger arc to come.

After fans sweat over Erina working out, she informs Soma that they’re not the only one out on a mission. In fact, there are many locations where the Midnight Chefs are striking at. However, all of those locations are already taken care of. Everyone is dealt by the Elite Ten. Now it’s a good time to introduce the new lineup.

It’s a nice way to introduce the members and their position. I’m a bit surprised that Eizan is still with the Elite Ten, especially now that it’s run by “good” people. He now takes the Eighth Seat, so a step down (or up?) from last time. I’m also surprised on how “normal” he is so far. Is he going through a redemption phase? He has been a punching bag, so now it’s a good time to change.

Kuga was expected to be a member of Elite Ten. This time, he takes the Third Seat. What a huge leap from Eighth. I still like his witty charm. It makes sense since he is pretty talented. Same can be said for Eizan. Isshiki reprises his role as well, but now, he takes the Second Seat. I like this because keep in mind, Soma was selected by Erina, which is given, but Isshiki is placed there because of his skills. It’s logical and I can accept this. I also like the sadist side of his; lately, he has given me chills.

Part of me think the terror side of his got the rub from living with Nene in the past. I thought of this when Nene appears on panel. I’m glad that she is still part of Elite Ten, though she has dropped to Ninth Seat. Regardless, she is still scary as ever, yet the guy she captured is “turned on” by her intimidation. Definitely a villain with that sort of kink. I got to say, lately, the series I follow have female characters sporting long hair after appearing with their short one. Therefore, I am easily awed by their appearance. In short, she looks prettier. New glasses helps too.

Takumi is on a boat chase because this is a Mission Impossible manga. He takes the Seventh Seat and I am fine with that. Nice to see the Aldini Brothers working together again. Also, Isami is skinny again; we know what season it is now. This was a fun way to show off all members in their seating positon. I’m surprised Mimasaka didn’t get one though. I wonder what happened to him.

Now it’s time for the shocking development. It is comical how Monarch, who has gone through the coolest guy ever phase, doesn’t want to cooperate with Soma, but when Mama Megumi asks, he gives all in. Whatever works, I guess. So, the Midnight Chefs were assigned to prepare food for a certain party, one with plenty of Mafia Families. Sounds like we are in The Godfather manga now. They don’t normally cross paths with other members, because they usually work solo. However, for this event, it’s an exception. The creep still wants more Nene’s cold eyes glare. Isshiki’s stare haunts me for some reason.

The strange part is that there was one noir that conquered the party alone. The person’s dish was so amazing, it got everyone, guests and even other noirs, foodgasm. Now that’s how you handle the hit. Even Monarch, who adores Megumi to high heaven, admits that she is nowhere near his level. What if she told you that’s not even her final form? It was that guy that spread the word about Shokugeki; motivated them to go over the area and use their system to their likings. Why? No one knows. Even to them, he remained hidden.

Basically, Midnight Chefs only appeared in the open because of that stranger. You can say that they wouldn’t be a problem or none of Tootsuki Academy’s business until they bring trouble to them. Then, it leads to the big reveal. I thought it was going to remain a secret as well when Monarch got lost in his train of thought. Tsukuda was dancing around the reveal with Soma and Megumi encouraging him that he can remember. Kind of amusing to see. But it dies out when the name is given.

The shady man announced himself as Saiba.

Part of me thought it was Azami in “Shokugeki no Soma 2: Azami’s Revenge.” This development however is pretty interesting. Now, it could still be him, using his name for alibi, but I think it’s soon to pull that off. I doubt it is Joichiro. Otherwise, I will cue “You Damn Traitor” scene. I do believe that it may in fact be his relative. Maybe it could be his evil twin brother. Joking aside, it would be logical since perhaps a relative can also be a professional chef.

The chef and landlady remind the fans that Saiba is not a known name in the world of chef, but Joichiro proved well-known name isn’t a determined factor. With that in mind, do we even know if he has a brother or not? What if the culprit is doing this out of anger at Joichiro for leaving the Academy or even betraying the family name, Saiba? What if the name Saiba is tainted with bad history, hence Joichiro converting to Yukihira? After all, why change your surname when Yukihira, to my knowledge, isn’t a loyal family name? This mystery really got me curious yet fascinated.

This was a pretty good and interesting chapter. It was rewarding for going through a mini-arc. I thought the payoff would be small yet sweet, but instead, we got something really interesting. It was nice to see the remaining Elite Ten Seats and their usual characteristics with few adjustments. The art is solid, though I can imagine fans feeling overwhelmed by Erina’s workout session or Nene’s new look. The reveal was pretty good. Despite the strangeness with Mafia and such, I look forward to the next development that may soon become personal with Soma.

#shokugeki no soma #shokugeki no souma #chapter 270 #review #food wars

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an-ambivalent · 6 years

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Lies & Deceptions [Yandere! Chat Noir] [Reader-Insert]

As Ladybug travelled from one roof to another to get to her destination, she bit her lip in thought. Her mind was racing with countless of thoughts per second, and anxiety was causing her stomach to churn. She felt sick, and she felt as if she was going to throw up at any moment. This was because she was starting to feel overwhelmed by her emotions and thoughts.

Normally, as an infamous superhero duo, there were some people, and media channels who started all sorts of scandalous rumours and fake news about Ladybug and Chat Noir. Obviously, they knew better than to believe those silly rumours and let fake news cloud their judgement of each other. It was for this very reason that Ladybug ignored the article which was published to address the rumours of Chat Noir murdering akuma victims. For the most part, it seemed as if the author of the article tried to maintain a neutral perspective while writing the entire article. However, no published piece ever portrays a neutral perspective on a subject; it will always leans towards a certain bias. In this case, the article had solid evidence with people anonymously confessing that Chat Noir was a threat to be recognized.

It was a very convincing article and it had gained decent amount of attention. However, just like Ladybug, Chat had been a respected superhero for years now, and had found a place in the heart of every Parisian. There was simply no way the beloved Chat Noir could murder someone. That is what the majority, and Ladybug believed, despite her gut constantly signalling her that that was not the case.

She should have listened to her instinct. After all, instincts were born from fear, that engulfed one’s self for a reason. And the ugly truth she had continually denied, was revealing itself to her.

Now, Ladybug needed to embrace the fact that her long-time partner, was nothing but a possibly psychotic stranger, who would not think twice before getting rid off her. So, she needed to be completely wary of Chat, and treat him like an enemy. She could not afford to make any miscalculations, or any mistakes, because this time, it was not just their miraculous at stakes.

It was their lives.

A battle of cunning lies and unknown truths was beginning, and in this battle, there would only be one winner.

Ladybug needed to make her victory certain. Not only so she would not die, but also to protect the innocent individual who had unknowingly become Chat’s victim, all because Ladybug had rejected him.

It was her fault that this mess had begun because she failed to support Chat when he needed her the most.

So, Ladybug swore, it was going to be her who would protect [Name] [Surname] from any further harm.

***

It was a bit past midday when Ladybug had reached her destination. The skies which were grey before, had just seemed to become duller. Suddenly, the skies had darkened so much, that it felt like it was nighttime.

Ladybug blinked owlishly as she landed on the window’s sill out of [Name]’s room. Grey curtains were withdrawn over the windows from the inside so Ladybug could not see inside the room.

Out of nowhere, a shiver ran down Ladybug’s back as she felt a deep gaze digging holes in it. Sweat begin to form on the back of her neck, and shaking slightly in fear, she glanced around her surroundings warily.

Chat hasn’t followed me, has he? She asked herself, and suddenly, that thought manifested her fear. Wanting to get this done and over with, she loudly knocked on [Name]’s window.

“[Name] [Surname]?! This is Ladybug! I got your text and I came over as soon as I could! Please let me in,” Ladybug exclaimed, as she continued to knock on her window.

Right away, the curtains in front of Ladybug’s vision were drawn back, and Ladybug’s eyes widen when she saw a timid [e/c] girl staring back at her with wide eyes. [Name]’s shoulders were tensed, before she quickly opened the window, and ushered Ladybug inside. As she did so, [Name] glanced around her surroundings to make sure they were not being watched. As she looked around her surroundings, she stopped, and gazed at a certain spot for a few seconds. She narrowed her eyes at the spot. Her lips seemed to twitch upwards momentarily.

She stepped back, as she shut the window, and withdrew the curtains. She turned towards Ladybug, her eyes filled with panic, and evident anxiety radiated off of her.

“You weren’t followed right? You didn’t let him pick up on any hints that I contacted you right?” [Name] asked, her words bluttered out in a rush--a sign, that conveyed her uneasiness.

Ladybug’s shoulders tensed because yes. Yes, that she had given it away, and maybe she was followed. She was too busy being lost in her thoughts of what she had to do in the future, that she had forgotten to focus on the present, and pay attention to the sound of footsteps and other noises to make sure she was not followed.

She had already made so many mistakes.

Observing the fidgety girl of nervousness before her, Ladybug decided the truth would do nothing but scare the poor girl before her into a panic attack. She decided she was going to lie.

Another mistake.

Ladybug gave her a reassuring smile.

“Nope! I was s-super discreet about it,” Ladybug answered, stammering ever so slightly. Inwardly, she cursed at herself and hoped that [Name] would not notice her not-so-discreet lie. Momentarily, she felt fear shoot through her when [Name] stared at her dead in the eyes, with an expressionless face. However, as soon as that blank expression appeared on [Name]’s face, it disappeared, and Ladybug wondered; was she imagining things?

She shook off her worry, as [Name] breathed out in relief. Then, she gave her a small, soft smile.

“Thank goodness,” [Name] began, as her shoulders finally relaxed, and she ran a hand through her hair strands. Then, she frowned and looked at Ladybug with utter seriousness.

“I’m sorry for suddenly giving you such a strange message, but I really need your help. At the very least, please hear me out. I know that as the main heroine, and of course your own personal life, you don’t have much time. If I’m not worth your time, then please by no means, feel obligated to help me. I am surprised that you even came here for someone as worthless as me, so thank you,” [Name] said, smiling awkwardly at her.

Ladybug’s eyes widened and she narrowed her eyes at [Name]. She did not miss how [Name] continued to refer to herself as ‘worthless.’

Why would she talk like that? Ladybug wondered, but decided to not comment on it.

She shook her head, and smiled at her.

“It’s no problem. It’s my duty as a superheroine to help those in need,” Ladybug answered, and [Name] hummed in response.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” [Name] suggested, motioning her head towards her bed. Ladybug nodded, as she robotically walked to her bed, and gently sat down.

“Refreshments?” [Name] asked, as she picked up a tray, that had two glasses of orange juice on it, and some chips.

Due to patrolling, Ladybug was really hungry. It seemed as if she had not realized that until this very moment, when her stomach growled, very loudly.

Ladybug blushed, and she smiled in embarrassment.

“Yes please,” She said, as [Name] giggled, and handed her a glass.

Mindlessly, Ladybug accepted it, and took a sip from it.

She did not question why [Name] had two glasses of orange juice, and not one, when there was obviously no one else but her at home. She also did not notice the small ladybug sticker that was at the bottom of her glass, which indicated that the glass Ladybug drank from, was specifically for her.

[Name] smiled as she saw Ladybug drinking more orange juice.

She openly eyed her earrings.

“So,” [Name] began, as she narrowed her eyes at Ladybug.

“What is it like being Ladybug? Is it your earrings that give you the power?” [Name] asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

Ladybug furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, as she consumed more contents of her beverage which was awfully a bit too sweet.

“Why are you asking me that? Shouldn’t we be discussing Chat?” Ladybug asked, and suspicion filled her eyes.

“Oh, Chat? Yes, we should definitely discuss him,” [Name] started, and she gave Ladybug a sickeningly sweet smile.

Speaking of sick, Ladybug suddenly began experiencing an extremely painful pounding in her head.

She yelped out in pain, as she clutched her head.

“W-What’s h-happening?” She stammered, as her voice became rasped, and her breath shortened.

[Name]’s eyes widen in delightment.

“You’re dying,” [Name] began nonchalantly, as her grin widened.

Ladybug’s eyes widen.

“And back to discussing Chat, he spends WAY too much of his precious time with a bug like you. It was about time you got squashed,” [Name] said, smirking.

“Y-You won’t g-get away with t-this,” Ladybug stammered, before she gasped loudly, and fell back on [Name]’s bed.

The [h/c] female grinned, as she reached for Ladybug's earrings.

“Oh honey, I already have,” [Name] stated, smiling.

As she took the Ladybug Miraculous, a red glow occurred throughout the room, which meant that the previous Ladybug’s transformation had been released. It revealed to be a black-haired female--Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

[Name] did not spare her a glance. Instead, she became focused on the new red Kwami--Tikki--who was floating in front of her.

With her eyes widened in fear, Tikki watched in horror as [Name] put in the Ladybug earrings, and then turned towards her.

She smiled sweetly at the ladybug Kwami. It was a reassuring smile, which had danger hidden behind it, if Tikki did not cooperate.

“So, little bug,” [Name] called, and Tikki shivered.

“I-I’m Tikki,” She muttered, and in response, [Name] squealed.

“You sound so cute! I hope we can be best friends,” She exclaimed in excitement.

Tikki opened her mouth to reply, and her eyes flickered to an unconscious Marinette.

She felt her lip quiver, and tears prickling the corner of her eyes. She wanted to scream and curse at [Name], but she knew that she could not. She diverted her attention back to [Name], whom’s eyes were now slitted in concentration, and she was fully focused on Tikki.

The seriousness of her gaze caused a shiver to run down Tikki’s spine, and [Name] gave her a cheshire smile that Tikki thought befitted a black cat more appropriately, than a bug to be.

“So tell me,” [Name] began, as Tikki glanced down on the floor, and clutched her hand tightly, in fear of knowing the horrors that awaited her.

“How do I become Ladybug?” [Name] asked, excitement emitting from her.

Just like the Butterfly Miraculous, and the Chat Noir Miraculous, The Ladybug Miraculous, had now fallen into the wrong hands. As [Name] was her new chosen, Tikki had no choice but to submit to her demands.

———

first | (previous chapter) eight | next chapter ten | Masterpost

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claire-alex-fan · 6 years

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Very Special People: Joseph Merrick �� Elephant man, Chang and Eng – Siamese twins, Francesco “Frank” Lentini – Three-legged boy, Carl Unthan – Limbless violinist

Special people always fascinated me, not because of their visage (even it’s make an important role), but mainly because of their stories. Even when those people were different, anybody can’t deny their will to live. Their will to live as others, will to shout: “Who cares I am different? I am human just like you! Behave to me as to human!”

Those special people always gave me brave to live and go for my dreams. They gave me hope.

As a little honour to those special people I wanted to draw some of them and add their story. I hope it will be inspiring for you.

And please, be forgiving for my English. I am not national speaker.

And it will be little bit longer…

(I made this pictures year ago and I did't submit it because of this long english description. Description I came out of most beautifull book Very Special People by Frederick Drimmer, what I have thank's to closest friend)

Joseph Merrick – Elephant man

Joseph Merrick was first special person, whom I ever know. Thanks to him started mine fascination with stories of special people. Although his story didn’t start happily, but mainly because of compassion of Sir Frederick Treves he could live how he always wanted – live in seclusion with something as small as acceptance.

Joseph Carey Merrick (August 5, 1862, Leicester - April 11, 1890, London). He suffered from two very rare diseases, namely neurofibromatosis and Proteus syndrome and because of that he suffered severe deformations of face due to which he was difficult to talk, could not laugh or sing. He also had deformed right arm and both legs. Because of his fall in childhood he had a severely damaged hip, so he could barely walk.

In his early childhood he must run from home. During these years, when he lived as he could, he decided to perform in a panoptic, where people first saw him as an Elephant Man. Here he was noticed by Tom Norman, who travelled with him to London. Here he performed in a small shop opposite the medical academy, where Frederick Treves first noticed him. Treves convinced Norman to allow Joseph Merrick to undergo a medical examination. Treves investigated him, and because Merrick was unable to talk, doctor thought he was imbecile.

However, Victorian England changed its attitude towards panoptics, and so Tom Norman, along with Joseph, had to go to Europe, where they did not do well. The manager eventually picked up Merrick's almost all of the property and send him back to England.

Exhausted, without anything and with severe bronchitis, he got back to London. He did not know what to do or where to go. Because of his appearance, people have been avoiding or trying to persecute him. From the hands of the crowd he was saved by the police who found the last thing Merrick had owned - a card from Doctor Frederick Treves.

He was admitted to isolation at the London hospital, even though Treves had broken the hospital rules. Here the doctor began to recognize a person who, despite all expectations, was intelligent, full of emotion, and with a soul of romance.

Here in the hospital began times that were radically different from those that Merrick had lived through.

However, although the nurses were not hostile to him, Treves knew that theirs professional conduct only confirmed Merrick's thought that he is a mere monster. Treves decided to bring him to his girlfriend. He briefly warned her about his appearance and asked her if she could greet him and give him a hand. And she also did that. The meeting lasted only a moment, and Merrick started to cry. Then he told Treves that she was the first woman to smile at him and gave him a hand.

Because Merrick could not stay forever in the hospital, Treves decided to put his story in the Times. With the help of the newspapers, he organized a collection to buy two rooms in the hospital. Thanks to his story, he was able to collect so much money that he could not only buy the room, but he also had enough finances for the end of his life. At the same time, the aristocrats became interested in him, and Merrick got into the society of higher people and he kept regularly correspondence with many of them.

Merrick was a soul of romance, and he was very happy to read stories of love. He also confided to Treves that he sometimes wished to be in the institution for the blind. He claimed that he could find there a woman who would not see him and so could fall in love with him.

The happiest moment in his life happened when he wanted to go somewhere out into the countryside where he could walk without people's view. Treves had arranged for this, so Merrick could travel to a small villa that belonged to Lady Knightley's estate.

And so Merrick got into the forest silence, watching animals, exploring the countryside and collecting flowers.

Merrick died six months after returning from the countryside. He was found in bed on his back. Treves, who led his autopsy, said he broke his neck because his head was too heavy. (Merrick normally slept with his knees at his chin). Apparently Merrick wanted to fulfil his last wish and sleep as normal people... and it became fatal to him.

Chang and Eng – Siamese twins

Siam (today’s Thailand) always fascinated me because of cats, kitchen, but mainly because of Chang and Eng.

They showed me that even when you are reliant on somebody you whole life, you can love each other. And solidary, knowing that someone can be with the other not only for own benefit, that was something what I needed when I read their story for first time.

Chang and Eng Bunker (May 11, 1811 - January 17, 1874), sometimes called the first Siamese twins.

Brothers were born in Thailand (formerly called Siam).

Conjoined twins have been known earlier in history, but Chang and Eng have become one of the most famous. So thanks to them that every twin born conjoined are called Siamese twins.

Both brothers were born healthy and beautiful. The only thing that distinguished them from the other children was that they were a connection from the breast bone to the belly button. After their birth, local doctors advised their parents to let brothers cut off. But their mother refused to do so, preferring to have two children, though conjoined, than two separate dead bodies.

Their mother cared for them with love and regularly practiced with the twins, so that the muscular band that connected them was longer and the brothers gained at least a little more freedom. Through her diligent work, the boys could eventually stand side by side, walk and live as if they were normal children.

The most interesting were their connections. Both brothers, though twins, had a distinctly different personality. Chang was dominant and often decided where the brothers would go, and when he and his brother argued, it was the Eng, who retreated.

Nonetheless, although they were different, they held brotherly love and devotion.

When the twins were ten years old, they had to start assisting in livelihood because they lost their fathers and their mother had to take care of the whole family. So they began with a street shop, which was very good for them because they had a natural charm and a sweet smile.

In this time businessman Robert Hunter came to meet them and offered them to show them to world. He knew that twins which was never seen before would be able to sell well in panoptics. So he began negotiating with the authorities to bring the twins into the world. Five years later, he got the franchise, and with the then twelve-year-old twins he went to Boston, where he immediately began to perform and immediately pulled crowds.

They also travelled to England and visited the most important doctors of that time and they confirming their authenticity.

And they did not lose sympathy with others (several times when they noticed that they had a handicapped child in the audience, they gave him a gift) or a sense of humour.

When the twins were twenty-one, they quarrelled with their manager, Captain Coffin, (who had taken them over from Robert Hunter, who had to leave for his business matters) and decided to travel alone. However, although they wanted to travel back to Thailand, they never returned to their homeland.

When they were on their travels through America, they met P. T. Barnum, about who has been told that every weird man in the 19th century has ever met him. But they only cooperated with him briefly.

When twins were twenty-eight, they decided to settle down and buy a small farm. They began to grow corn, to keep pigs and to long for the family. They gained American citizenship, and because they had no surnames, they decided to accept the surname Bunker. It is still unclear why they decided to name their self like this.

Twins started to propose two girls, but their neighbours did not agree. But even this did not forced twins to make any retreat. Both of them wanted to love and they were not afraid to fight for it. They therefore decided to undergo surgery which had to divide them. When their mistresses learned about it, they immediately talked to them because they did not want to risk that something happened to the brothers in the operation.

And not long after that, a two-fold wedding took place.

Coexistence with twins, though, required a special regime, but in essence it did not restrict anyone. The two brothers became the fathers of more than twenty children (Eng was father of six boys and five girls, and Chang had seven girls and three boys).

Because of the war they lost almost all of their property and were forced to go back to the show business and they returned to P. T. Barnum. After a journey in Europe, when the brothers returned to America, Chang had a stroke and because of that he was paralyzed to part of his body. He realized that it made life harder for his brother, and he began to fall into depressions, which often drowned in alcohol.

In January 1874, Chang had a bronchitis disorder. Even though his condition improved, one night, Chang woke up in the middle of the night and awakened his brother because he badly breathing. Both of them fell asleep again, and a few hours later Eng awoke knowing that there was something wrong. Chang was dead. Eng knew very well that his end would come soon. They called on the doctor to try to divide the twins, but before he arrived, it was obvious that it was too late. Eng had severe cramps and died shortly after the doctor arrived. It was on Friday, January 17, 1874.

And this is how died the most famous Siamese Twins, Chang and Eng, who, even though they had not spent simple years, astonished surgeons and viewers all over the world, they never lost their sense of humour, and their devotion and mutual love. They lived and died and also pass their message - forever together.

(With this one picture I had a lot's of fun, and there is early sketch af Chang's face: sta.sh/01a32mmc8afk)

Francesco “Frank” Lentini – Three-legged boy

This man captivated me because he took his condition with humour. He taught me self-acceptance and mainly that, whatever we are, we can always take it with humour and don’t care what thinks people around, because they don’t know what we feel, or what we had to go through. And because of that it’s more important how we accept ourselves and not how accept us others. And with bit of humour we can bring some hope to people who need it.

Francesco "Frank" Lentini (April 18, 1881 - September 22, 1966), sometimes called Three-Legged Football Player, was born in the small town Rosolini in Italy. Because of the part of the body of his incomplete twin, he had a scrubby pan attached to the skeleton, from which another leg had grown. It was shorter than the other legs, but, he had full control over it and managed to kick into a ball, which he later used in his performances.

When he was young, his family had to immigrate to the United States. Here he first appeared in the circus.

Even though his third leg had never bothered him in his life, he was often ashamed of it and advised the doctors to remove her. When doctors refused surgery, he gradually fell into depression. He noticed that everyone around him was sorry for him, and he began to hate himself. His family did everything to cheer him up. Once they took him to the Disability Institute. Little Lentini here saw the children who had to suffer because of their disability. Lentini himself says that experience was not pleasant to him, but when he saw the other children who had far worse deformities than he, and how they wanted to live and did what they could, it's gave him hope and desire to experience his life. He reconciles with himself and learned with his third leg to do a lot of bits, but also ordinary activities such as jump, swim or drive a car.

Several people asked him how he bought boots, and he simply said, "I buy two pairs of boots and I give my left boot to my one-legged friend who lost his leg during an unfortunate accident."

He had performed for many years, married and had four children. He spent a long and happy life, and finally he did not mind was different. He was able to accept himself and motivate others.

He died because of lung failure in Jacksonville, Florida, on September 22, 1966.

Carl Unthan – Limbless violinist

Carl Unthan is close to me mainly because of his violin plays. He all his life wanted to live like if he had no handicap. He tries to be like others and it strengthened him.

But always when I touch my violin I recall two men. My grandfather, who bequeath me that violin, and at Carl Unthan, who thought me that every person, if he/she want, can make every dream come true.

Carl Unthan (April 5, 1848 - 1929), sometimes called the Limbless violinist.

He was born in Germany, and when the midwife saw he had no arms, she suggested she would suffocate him, but his father strongly rejected it. He gently took his baby and carried him to his wife.

Carl grew rapidly, and his relatives and neighbours often regretted him. As soon as his father noticed it, he immediately realized that regret in a boy wakes up only self-pity, and it destroys him. He forbade everyone to regret it. He set three principles. The first one was that no one should regret the boy. When the boy was a year, he began to try to put things on his feet, and so a second principle emerged. No one was allowed to put on him shoes or socks. Carl began to use his legs instead of his hands and he became extremely skilful. Once at dinner, he started feeding by his feet. His father said at that moment that Carl could do what he wanted and nobody could help him.

Carl grew up and became very skilled. Gradually he managed a great deal of activities that no one thought he could do without hands. He was tenacious and patient (and stubborn), and what he did not do for the first time, he still tried to do it until he succeed.

The house he lived in was attached to the school building, and little Carl had often secretly sneak there and learned to write and count. When his father enrolled him at school at the age of six, he could read and write.

And he has also tenaciously learned many other activities we consider as commonplace. He learned to dress himself, swim, even go shopping, or help his parents farm fields.

However, he was still very sensitive in the core, and other people often unconsciously hurt him. When his younger brother died, several people drop a hint that God had called to himself the wrong man. Every note about his physical condition was like a burning blow to his face. However, over the years, he has learned to accept all of the notes.

Carl loved music very much, and he was eager to begin playing the violin. No one ever thought Carl could learn such a thing, but Carl did not agree with them. Once he secretly lent the violin, tied it to the chair and began to play on them. He ignored the fact that his family was covering his ears. He trained long hours with the tenacity of his own. When he was sixteen and he mastered the violin play, his parents sent him to the Conservatory. After his first concert, he began to travel and play. People watched him watch not only because of music but also because of how he can play without hands.

When he was in Prague (today's capital of the Czech Republic (my homeland, yay!)), he met a young singer named Antonie Beštová and immediately fell in love with her. He persuaded her to go with him to a concert tour, and when he finished, he asked for her hand. Antonia accepted his offer.

When the First World War broke out, he was over sixty years old, but still he wanted to serve his homeland. So he began showing wounded soldiers who had lost their limbs how they could live without them. None of the soldiers couldn't be as skilled as Carl, but his optimism and tenacity gave them hope and a taste for life.

Before his death, he wrote his autobiography and instead of manuscript he called it "pediscript" because he wrote it with his legs. At the beginning of the book, he wrote the motto that had led him all his life: "Where there is a will there is a way."

#Very Special People #Joseph Merrick #Elephant man #Chang and Eng #Siamese twins #Francesco “Frank” Lentini #Three-legged boy #Carl Unthan #Limbless violinist #misfits #my art

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hookaroo · 6 years

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A Captain’s Heart (10 of 34?)

Chapter 1 Chapter 9

Rated T for language and graphic descriptions of injuries.

Also on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12937105/1/A-Captain-s-Heart

Tagging @therooksshiningknight & @killian-whump by request :)

*TRIGGER WARNING for vague (and totally untrue) mentions of possible sexual assault and its investigation. Many thanks to the wonderful @lillpon for her sage advice!

The CT took time, of course. It turned out that they weren’t even ready for him, as they had claimed, and Killian ended up waiting at least a quarter of an hour in a tiny prep room off the main department. The only positives of what was essentially a closet: it was warmer than the hallways, and he wouldn’t have to sit in his threadbare gown among all of the ambulatory patients in the main waiting room.

He had been given some generic magazine to help pass the time, but none of the articles were of any interest to him. The alternative, though, was to sit uncomfortably and count the number of times his leg throbbed per minute, which wasn’t all that fun, either.

Alone for the first time since discovering the identity of his companion, Killian’s mind kept wandering as varying emotions flooded through him. Number one was, naturally, concern for her well-being. Always fiercely protective of his ship, it was hardly a surprise that he would be the same in regards to her human self. In his imagination, he kept coming back to an awful image of faceless medical personnel holding her down, forcing their tests on her as she screamed. He knew it was unlikely. They had rules they were required to follow, certain guidelines on consent, and she posed no danger to anyone, including herself. But until he could be back in her presence, he would continue to worry and imagine the worst, no matter how much he tried to rationalize it away.

Second, shock. Still. The idea still startled him. Centuries aboard that lovely ship… he knew of the enchanted wood, talked to her as any proud captain would, but never imagined her sentience. Her understanding, a presence that could observe and empathize but not interact. It was poignant, perhaps a bit unsettling… and he was at a loss. She knew him in ways that no one else did. She’d watched him survive his darkest moments, heard him as he grieved and railed. Felt the loss as two precious passengers were tipped off her decks and given to the sea. Absorbed the blood of many, her captain’s and his victims’ alike. Rocked him to sleep when he was too drunk or injured or despairing to leave his cabin for days on end. She had been a solid presence through storm, curse, portal, and adventure. And she was here now, he could talk to her, and he had no idea what to say.

His thanks could never be enough.

By the time the test was over and he was on his way back to the exam room, Killian was jittery with nerves, impatient to see her again and assure himself of her welfare. The pain meds weren’t helping, making him feel disconnected and edgy. So when he was brought back to their original room, it took him a moment to realize it.

“We’ve moved, mate,” he snarled at the lad steering his wheelchair. But the boy was undeterred. He parked the chair in the middle of the room, set the brake, and mumbled,

“Doc will be in shortly.”

“This is the wrong room, though… wait…”

Killian was alone, the door closed, and he cursed. He made a feeble attempt to turn the wheels himself before realizing he still possessed the ability to walk, albeit painfully. Just as he was limping his way toward the exit - pushing the chair before him because it was easier than trying to move the IV to the pole waiting on the other side of the room - in came two men. Dr. Stevens and a police officer. What the hell?

“Have a seat, Mr. Jones,” commanded the physician seriously.

“What’s going on? Where’s Marvel?” Angry and afraid, Killian made no move to obey.

“We feel that there’s probable cause to open an investigation into what really happened between you and Ms. Seaver.”

At first, Killian’s slightly drug-addled brain didn’t make the connection. Then he remembered scrawling the surname for her, hoping it sounded normal enough for this land. He and Marvel, then. And that phrase.

“I’m under arrest, then?” he clarified, seething. Furious with the conclusions they had drawn. With himself for not seeing it coming. That was the reason for all of the secrecy, the chaperone, possibly even the expedited testing: they had wanted to separate them. And he couldn’t even blame them for being suspicious. Doubtless, it looked strange, not far from sinister, and the necessity of lies at every turn did not help matters.

The officer followed all of the proper protocols as far as Killian could tell from his deputy training and experience. And he certainly couldn’t fault the fellow for doing his job. It was just ironic that after all his decades of crime, the one thing he was under investigation for was something fictitious - a transgression he would never even consider committing.

“Ms. Seaver has already been examined for evidence, and a detective is conducting an interview,” the police officer informed Killian.

“Is she okay?” Killian asked quietly. Poor girl. She probably didn’t understand half the things they were doing and asking.

“She’s much calmer now, cooperating willingly,” reported Dr. Stevens. “She will be well looked after.”

What followed was a spectacularly invasive search of Killian’s person as the physician gathered potential evidence. Clothing bagged, samples and swabs collected, scrapings from beneath his fingernails. The slightest mark anywhere on his skin that could even hint at injury - and, thus, a struggle - documented and photographed. They took particular interest in the claw marks on his chest and arm: to a biased eye, they could easily represent a woman’s desperate attempts at self-defense. And Killian’s only explanation had to be a weak, obviously made-up story blaming the rocks on which they’d run aground.

Killian submitted passively, knowing that it would be easier overall if he did, and they wouldn’t find anything incriminating in the end. It wasn’t exactly fun, and he felt terrible that Marvel had had to undergo what was likely a very similar process, but he consoled himself with the fact that she hadn’t yet developed the ingrained shame that made these types of procedures so humiliating.

Dressed in a new gown and socks - sans underwear now - Killian was directed up onto the exam table while all of the “evidence” was properly sealed and labeled. His digital fingerprints were taken, one of the few processes in life actually sped up by his lack of a left hand. Then he was handcuffed to the railing, despite assurances that he wouldn’t try to flee. How could he, really, when he could barely walk unaided? Turned out it was more for the safety of “Ms. Seaver” than anything else, which he appreciated in a strange way. As Dr. Stevens left, Killian lay back, feeling helpless. His Swan would arrive to a very familiar sight… and he didn’t even deserve it this time.

#ouat fanfiction #killian jones #the jolly roger #a captain's heart #police #false accusations #I promise this doesn't turn into a long crime drama #because i'm pretty clueless about that sort of thing

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askullinajar · 6 years

Text

The Shattered Frame (Part 4/7)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Fic info: this is a sequel to my previous fic, The Living Ghost so go read that or this won’t make sense. Rating: General. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani. Ao3 link: here.

A cluster of hauntings in a decrepit manor and the dripping spectre of a woman dressed all in black hits a little too close to home for Lockwood & Co’s newest member.

Part 4 – Redwood Manor

Mr Taylor turned out to be a timid shadow of a man in his late thirties, with eyes that darted back and forth like prey on the lookout for its predator. According to George, he’d been quite the formidable agent in his youth, but the fading of his Talent had left him jittery, terrified of being killed by the ghosts he could no longer see.

He guided us around the manor with the air of someone who would rather be in a cage with several lions who hadn’t eaten in weeks, because at least then he could see them. His stuttering commentary accompanied us from the vast foyer, through the living room with its musty armchairs and wide fireplace, upstairs through the dusty bedrooms, and downstairs to the basement that used to be the servants’ quarters, but was now used to store old furniture draped in moth-eaten sheets.

He refused to enter any of the bathrooms or the kitchen, informing us that many had been found drowned there, and he stayed on the porch when he took us to the back garden where the swimming pool was situated.

“Th-that’s where they found Lady Moore,” he stammered, gesturing weakly to the empty pool.

I walked up to the edge and peered in. Thick slime and dirt obscured the tiles, and puddles of old rainwater had formed in cracks at the bottom.

“Wouldn’t want to drown in there,” I said, grimacing.

Lockwood patted Mr Taylor on the shoulder. “Well, Ms Moore won’t be bothering you for much longer. How about you head off home before it gets dark and we’ll set up?”

Mr Taylor wasted absolutely no time in leaving us alone in the garden.

“See any death glows yet?” I asked Lockwood.

He hummed. “There’s one in the middle of the pool, quite bright already. I suppose it’ll only get brighter.” He pulled out his spare pair of sunglasses from his coat pocket and handed them to Skully for later.

I’d never been on a case with the living, breathing Skully before. None of us had. He tended to lounge around at home while we went out and risked our lives. I didn’t question it much; I just guessed he’d had enough of death. It was a shame, though; with his connection to the Other Side, Skully’s Talent was the strongest out of all of us. He had Sight as sensitive as Lockwood’s and Listening on par with mine. That, combined with his supernatural powers, meant clearing this manor of Visitors shouldn’t be too much trouble, as long as he actually cooperated.

Kipps put on his goggles. As a group, we scouted out the manor again, this time putting our combined talents to use and checking the temperature as we went along.

We set up our first iron chain in the living room in front of the fireplace, dumping all our spare equipment in it, then we set up smaller chains outside the bathrooms, kitchen, the back porch, and, finally, the basement, which was a few degrees colder than was natural.

The temperature steadily dropped as the sun gradually dipped below the horizon, colder near the water sources; dozens of death glows appeared, forcing Skully and Lockwood to don their sunglasses; shadowy figures began to drift through the hallways, but they seemed harmless for now, and I caught faint gurgling sounds coming from the kitchen sink.

As we were circling the perimeter of the house near the pool, Skully let out a yell.

“LOOK OUT!”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, Holly shrieked, Kipps squealed and clutched my arm, George leapt several feet into the air and his glasses went flying, Lockwood stumbled and fell flat on his face.

“Oh,” said Skully. “Never mind. Just a shadow.”

I slapped his arm.

“Ow!” he yelped. “What was that for?!”

“You know exactly what that was for!”

“Is this what you had to put up with on cases, Luce?” said Kipps, glowering at Skully who grinned evilly back at him.

“You have no idea,” I replied.

“No more of that,” said Lockwood, pushing himself to his feet and wiping mud off his sunglasses. “I think it’s time to form a plan.” He turned to face us as George retrieved his glasses off the ground and fumbled to put them on while glaring daggers at Skully. “Right, so I reckon we should split up to cover more ground. That way there’s more chance of one of us stumbling across a source. If you see Elizabeth Moore… Skully, are you listening?”

“What?” said Skully, abruptly. “Oh. No, I was just looking at this cloud over there. Looks just like Barnes on a moped.”

“Oh my god, it does,” I said as the others hummed in agreement.

Lockwood pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, as much as that cloud looks like Barnes on a moped, and it really looks like Barnes on a moped, we have some sources to find. Skully?”

“Yes?”

Lockwood spoke slowly, maintaining eye contact with the inattentive ex-ghost. “We’re going to split up…”

“Yes.”

“And if we see Elizabeth Moore…”

“Yes.”

“We… You’re not listening, are you?”

“Yes. Wait. What? No, I zoned out again.”

I slapped my palm against my forehead.

“Okay, new plan,” said Lockwood. “We split into twos. Whoever’s with Skully, make sure he doesn’t break anything and/or kill anyone. I’ll go with Lucy–”

“Shocker.”

“Shut up, George. We’ll take the garden. Quill and George, take the top two floors. Skully and Hol, take the ground floor and basement. If any of you see Elizabeth Moore, scream, and the rest of us will come running. Got it?”

We nodded, all except Skully, who was pulling at a loose thread in his coat. Holly had to tug on his sleeve to get him to follow her.

“She better come back in one piece!” I called after them.

“Of course,” Skully called back. “She promised me cake. Enjoy your moonlit walk, lovebirds.”

I stuck my tongue out at him as he disappeared into the house with the others.

I walked the grounds with Lockwood’s familiar presence at my side. A few wispy shapes had formed near the pool.

“Make out any details, Lockwood?” I asked.

“They’re not fully formed yet, but they look like kids to me,” he replied. “Agents who met a bad end, possibly.” He paused for a moment, then said, “You can call me Anthony, you know?”

I looked up at him. “What?”

“It’s just…” His brow furrowed as if he was thinking over his next words. “We’re together now, right? It seems weird for my girlfriend to call me by my surname.”

I blushed at the term ‘girlfriend’, still not used to it. “Anthony,” I said, rolling the word on my tongue, trying it out. I smirked at him. “What if I wanna call you ‘big A’.”

“Then I’m dumping you,” he monotoned.

I stuck my bottom lip out. “That’s just mean.”

He laughed at my expression and nudged my side as we continued walking past the pool. “Just kidding. I’d never let you go, Luce. Even if you called me ‘big A’.” He stuck out his tongue in disgust.

“And what about ‘A.J’,” I said, casually.

Lockwood’s brow furrowed, and he looked at the ground. “Jessica called me that, sometimes.”

I glanced over at him. “You didn’t seem to mind when Skully said it.”

He shrugged. “It’s… I don’t know. It seemed normal when he said it. Guess he’s growing on me.”

I smiled slightly. “Well, my best friend and my boyfriend need to get along…”

I stopped walking. Lockwood looked over at me and raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I hear water,” I said. It was getting colder, too. My breath puffed out in front of me.

Lockwood frowned. “Wait, I hear it too.”

I looked up at him, confused; his Listening was usually terrible. If he could hear it, then…

I turned back towards the pool. I watched as water gushed into it from an unknown source, rapidly filling it all the way up to the brim.

“Lucy!” Lockwood shouted. I whipped back around to see he had his rapier drawn and was facing down a Visitor who hovered a few feet in front of him.

She was dressed all in black, and the fabric rippled and flowed around her form as if weightless. Thick tendrils of dark hair swirled around her pale face and dark, hollow eyes stared towards us. It was as if she was eternally floating underwater.

And, around her, more Visitors gathered, getting more defined as they drew closer, as if gaining strength from the psychic energy she radiated, until I could clearly see every hair plastered to their foreheads, their clothes dark and weighed down, the water dripping from their locks, down their noses, their sleeves, their legs, pooling beneath them on the grass below.

My ears buzzed with psychic humming; words I couldn’t quite make out.

“Elizabeth?” I addressed the ghost. Lockwood glanced over at me but didn’t attempt to stop me.

Faint words. “…gone…can’t…”

“What is it you want?” I said. “We can help you.”

“…can’t find him… gone… need to find him…”

“Your brother?” I said. “Can you tell me his name?”

The ghost snapped her necked up and stared right at me, her face contorted into a hideous expression before she let out a spectral shriek. “GONE!”

I stumbled backwards from shock. Lockwood unclipped a salt canister from his belt and hurled it at the ghosts’ feet. It exploded, sending grains of salt everywhere and making ectoplasm hiss and sputter. The Visitors flickered out, but Elizabeth reappeared only a few feet back and raised a huge gust of freezing wind that smacked into us with full force and sent us staggering backwards towards the pool. It kept blowing, whipping our hair back from our faces, forcing us ever closer to the water.

With great effort, I grabbed a magnesium flare and, squinting against the harsh wind, threw it in the general direction of Elizabeth’s ghost.

There was a flash of Greek fire, and Elizabeth momentarily flickered out again, giving us a brief respite from the spectral wind, but it didn’t last long.

She reappeared even closer and sent another blast of air our way. My feet teetered on the edge of the pool, the icy water lapped at my ankles. It only took one more gust of wind to knock me over.

I just had time to scream, and to hear Lockwood shout my name, before I was enveloped by the frosty water.

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extinctwen · 4 years

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real reason about why wenheqian be discriminated,expose truth sex psychology of majority people,wenheqian seek help letter before dead

minority person wenheqian seek help and admit defeat and implore 1,The theoretical foundation of this letter, Axiom1, speech can describe false facts, called lies, and the speech of violent winner represent correct. Axiom2,majority people are hypocritical gays and lesbians,their sexdesire both equivalent to use the kindness of same sex to maltreatment kill the same sex,and ignore consequences, their speech is ask for kindness from same sex. gay men sympathize and enshield each other, lesbians cooperate with gay to reproduce,so lesbian also shield gay men. Axiom3, gay men try to use lies cover up their sexdesire which is intentionally hurt others. My sexual psychology can expose the true thinkings of gay men, so I will be slaughtered and extinct. Axiom4,a person who intentionally hurt others can expand the proportion of his gene, they can unite to resist the revenge,this is evolutionary advantage,call Destructive Solidarity. in the history,hypocritical lesbians and gays unite to slaughter and depopulate my kind man. 2,warlord parliamentary republic system,Anyone is allowed to form an army freely. Each army sends delegate to form parliament to make decisions. The weak obey the strong. 3,Morita therapy can alleviate brain injury, it is not to get rid of mental illness, try to live a normal life with mental desease. Axiom, brain injury and schizophrenia are equivalent. Theorem, trying to get rid of an inextricable mental illness can fall into an endless logical cycle,more bad. 4,medical knowledge, medicine for the treatment of human demodex, external use is sodium dodecylbenzene sulfonate, o-phenyldimethyldibutyl ester, internal use is metronidazole, ivermectin.Mad cow disease is protein virus causes brain damage, spread by food, easy to produce this disease beef.I rely on indomitable survive willing and Morita therapy to fight mad cow disease and try restore normal thinking,is effective,Psychotic drugs chlorpromazine also effect. 5,We can survive by imitating the sexdesire and intelligence of majority human,I want to help my kind,contact QQ 3043605422. 6,The dilemma of reality, my name is heqian,surname is wen, majority people and the current government can decide my life and death,my sexual psychology leads them want to kill me, I try to be tolerant by the majority people,and keep peace with them,but they disagree.1, Because I made mistakes in my speech, majority people said I was schizophrenic wanted to kill people.Then they discriminate and kill me by intentionally hurt. They intentionally knock hurt my head to prove I was schizophrenic.They maliciously killed me but say protect themselves. I don't want to kill them, but I can't protect myself. 2,Gay control government,I was secretly plot by gay man governor spy,Because I exposed my sexual psychology before a gay spy surnamed Ye.so,I eat food contained mad cow disease beef. I was intentionally knocked injured on head by stranger man.I was maliciously infected skin parasite human demodex. 7,The key reason why there is no solution, 1.hypocritical gay men and lesbian pretend to understanding defective or real defect.They please majority intentionally hurt minority, but still believe each other is kindness, so no reason can talk with them. They say can't understand what I say, but they can attack me by plan beforehand,hard to defend. 2.Gay men who want to intentionally hurt me are protected by majority people. If I kill the enemy ahead,I will be treated as terrorists. This is a torture to me. Most people don't want to understand this kind of torture. 3. I can make good my failing in speech, but no chance. 8,only my sex psychology willing to have understand ability,but my y chromosome is going extinct, I want to write out my sexual psychology before I die, see in next article.I am a heterosexual man with female sexual behavior,My wisdom is to surmise other people's thinking and find my kind, then unite my kind fight against gay by force. My ancestor Wenqiao, a famous general of the EasternJin Dynasty, Wenhui, a meritorious official of king Caocao, Wenjie, a meritorious official of king LiuBang. Axiom5, sex desire is pursuit other person's physical sex organ, including pursuit the smell,sex desire donot affect sex behavior, sex behavior is behavior standard to oneself gender identity, so gays and lesbians can use sexual behavior to disguise as heterosexuals, then they can reproduce. 9,sexdesire heredity is unstable,this cause my Y chromosome extinct.The sexdesire gene have odd-even law,it leads to love girl in even number, love man in odd number.My mother and brother are Chimera homosexuals, their brains and appearances are different.My father is gene gay,he raised me but also tortured me.In primary school, he malice forced me to eat alum bread every day, resulting in aluminum poisoning,muscle weakness. 10, I write a novel expose the truth of gay government's society.Homosexuality is prohibited in law nominally,but in fact,lesbians intentionally describe beautify heterosexual women as lesbians, and then force the beauty to have girl on girl sex with them. 11,At present,only a few people can understand truth. Majority speech reverse good and evil.The reason why most people can hurt me is they are not be hurt. I say I want to kill because majority people want to kill.Life without guns shouldnot live, I just want to let my kind avoid being plot to tortured death. the beauty I love don't have logic,worry them entangle myself. God ask loser to resist, will go hell after fail. Record my sex psychology and reveal the true sex psychology of majority people(chinese wenheqian) 1,axiom1,In current society, most people can be accommodated, a few people are discriminated and intentionally hurt to dead, I do things according to instinct, but I became minority, because my sex psychology. After my extinction,no one knows my sex psychology. Axiom2,as long as gay men can survive, any motive they intentionally hurt me can exist.cannot explain why gay mem exist. Axiom3,I can't survive, so I seek a good die, I want to speak out the true sex psychology of majority people before I die. axiom4,both gay and heterosexual men have the chance to be majority,cannot prove which kind is majority. 2,My sexual psychology, my intelligence is determined by my hereditary sexdesire,I can understand a kind of gay's sexdesire, that is please majority people but intentionally harm minority, my instinct is to became minority, the purpose is to unite my kind, and because I donot want to be victim,so I need to fight eliminate gay, my method is gather my kind, use force to eliminate gay. only the people who want to kill people can eliminate my enemy, so I don't discriminated person who want to kill people. In order to protect each other, I have to be able to kill people. I only want to have girl on girl sex intercourse, but I am a male, so I only can hug and kiss beautiful women.When I was 13 years old, I was deeply secret love a female classmate, Liu Ziying. Her body odor was tasteless, but it attracted me, which made me curious and happy. She was my favorite in my life. From then on, I knew that the main charm of heterosexual women was body odor and sex slave thinking. 3,My pain, I want to protect myself, but I can't avoid being intentionally hurt by gay and lesbian,and I can't tell the truth,so it's more painful. 4,The most painful torment I've suffered is the plight of speech.majority not only kill me, but also cover up the truth with lies. When I tell the truth, it is regarded as a lie. When I prove the truth with axiom, I be killed. gays and lesbians make up many general principles to cover the motives of intentionally hurt me,I cannot rebut. majority say me is a sex pervert want to kill,But in fact, most people are sex perverts want to kill,they please majority but kill minority, only a few die man know the truth. Analogy, multiple lessbian cooperate to force beautiful women to have girl-on-girl sex with them, but they create lies say that beautiful women force them.when violent winners lie, that is doubly torturing the victims. 5,predict the future,I will extinct and no longer evolved out. 1st, gay men intentionally harm me regardless consequences,I dont know how to avoid.In ancient times,there is geographic isolation, my ancestor at least is local majority.we can protect ourselves by identifying and killing gay men in advance. we all want to survive when be minority. 2nd,only government have gun,present government malice protect gay and les who intentionally hurt me.gay government spy killed awaken in my kind, I dont have changce to gather or awake my kind. 3rd,The sexdesire gene has the odd even law,but majority people's sexual desire is stable heredity, so after my y chromosome extinct, no my kind man exist. 6,Follow talk about sexual psychology of majority man. It reveals the means and reasons of their intentional harm to me. The reason is inevitable, and the means are very clever, so I certain die.Most men are hypocrisy gay,they must use lies cover up the truth when hurting others. they wouldn't kill each other when they persecute minority, so hypocrisy murderer also can sympathize with each other.I am minority victim,I need to tell sexual psychological truth to seek help, but it cause gay massacre to silence. 7. Gay men intentionally hurt me but pretend no this thing, then continue to sympathy with me, The effect is equal to intermittent schizophrenia,also equal to lies. 8.Gay men think that the performance of brain injury can be regarded as schizophrenia, so gay government spy maliciously describe me as schizophrenic, then intentionally knock injure my head. 9.gay men believe that if they are protected by the majority, they can hurt minority people at will, the victims is minority,not be protected. This is the reason why they win in speech. Therefore, they always please majority, and must use lies to fabricate other people's evil, use accusation to intentionally kill, so that they can be protected. So My kind will be said killer demon maliciously. 10. Gays and lesbians all ask others to be goodness,but their sexdesire is equal to tortured killing heterosexual men.gay say that their killing is to eliminate enemy, but in fact, if minority people do not kill them, they will be deliberately injured,Vertical and horizontal all dead. 11.gay men don't want to live and hurt others, but they survive at last, because majority protect them. 12. Gays and lesbians forever describe their sexdesires as no sexdesire reproduce,the purpose is to use lies hide their sexdesire which is totured kill same sex. 13. Gay men have the desire to feel their own pain, and they will be happier when they be retaliated. so they dont afraid punishment. 14.When gay men want to eliminate me, they also please and use me.In this time, gay men on surface do ordinary things, but in fact, they are looking for opportunities to intentionally hurt me. 15. when face heterosexual men's query, gay men still do whatever they want,they say can't understand what you say,they think one knows the truth when they plot others. 16. Lesbians attack me more deadly,because they fully know my brain. Lesbian pretend heterosexual women and fabricate be hurted facts to kill me,They are protected, but they can kill at will. They selectively pester harass others. They do not harass gay and lesbian because they can distinguish heterosexual men.They say "people who want to kill will not be discriminated against if they not exposed, therefore, people who sympathize with wenheqian are exposed people who want to kill", so no one dares to sympathize with me. 17. My countermeasures. I'm stupid, can't defense.When I support myself, I will be hurt intentionally,so It's better to beg for food and seek protection.But I know after the extinction of defect Y chromosome,there will no man sympathize me. At this time,no help for me when I beg for food. 18. People who intentionally hurt me will not be hurt. I don't want to die in this. I want revenge,I regret woke up too late,gay government spy knocked my head and let me no ability to resist. Record a persecution of speech that I encountered and explain Why it has no solution(chinese wenheqian) 1.axiom, on the surface, freedom of speech on the Internet, but in fact, some speech will lead to death. 2. Life experience: from primary school to university, I was discriminated and ridiculed and intentionally hurt by most boys. I know they hurt me is because sexdesire,but nobody protect me.I met three boy students surnamed ye are government spy,a roommate surnamed ye saw through my sexual psychology, he have decided to kill me secretly but he still please and use me. I know but I cannt say out.I dont regret creat trouble,in University,I was spread rumors by gay,then I seek help blindly,it caused most people talk about me through smart phones,say I was sexual perversion wanted to kill human plus schizophrenia,then they isolated and arbitrarily hurt me, I say truth, they maliciously say it is illusion.When I say that I be intentionally hurt, they say it is a delusion of victimization. They donot afraid me but say I am terrible every day. I can't change most people's mind,they felt the charges were true,my kind extinct, I'm helpless.I was intentionally knocked injure on head during internship, it was arranged by the government spy because none of the male students I went with were knocked.I regret that I didn't discover that roommate surnamed ye is a spy.I buy online and eat beef have mad cow virus made by govern spy,I regret not being on guard. 3,Being speech persecuted experience, I said on the Internet that I want to kill people, and say I have mental illness, which causes most people kill me by hook or by crook. They said "the man wants to kill must be gay, threaten other people's survival,should be eliminated,gay have no pain,should be tortured,wenheqian is schizophrenic,Schizophrenic people can be hurt at will because the victim will be said to have victimization delusion, If wenheqian kill people to revenge the society, it authenticate wenheqian is killer demon and schizophrenic". 4,my kind can understand the truth, majority people say they persecute me is to eliminate the threat of killing, but in fact, they are malicious, The logical proof is that when I don't want to kill most people, they still persecute me. I claim that I want to kill is to distinguish from the hypocrisy,Hypocrites use goodness pretext to intentionally kill people. I want to eliminate hypocrites. 5,reason of no solution,this kind of speech persecution will not happen if my kind are majority. now only less than 1/30 people sympathize me, and they survive by disguise as majority,unable to help me.I cann't think out method to change most people's minds,certainly dead in speech defect. Record the last struggle before a chinese wenheqian's death 1.majority people and government want to extinct me.I do dying struggle. 2. In my struggle, I go to the streets and looked for people who sympathized with me from passers-by, including women, I found that only 1 / 30 of them sympathized with me. I said to them, "I am a minority. I am discriminated and intentionally hurt by the majority, they say I am a demon wants to kill people. I need your help and protection. I want to unite my kind to form an army to protect myself,I have invented a new system,allows anyone to form an army freely, the weak obey the strong. " They said, "we don't dare to help you.we will be slaughtered by the Communist Party if form army." 3. The result by predict.I will be beated and killed by majority people on the street, and the police pretend not see it. If I turn to seek help from 29 / 30 majority people, I will get a fall stone. 4. My firm. My brain damaged,I insist survive by Morita therapy. I try chlorpromazine to treat mad cow disease,feel effective.Chlorpromazine only blocked part of the brain function. I speculated that people born with a certain brain function defect will not be infected with BSE, cannibals will not be infected. 5. The way that majority people intentionally hurt me and the corresponding motivation. Two kinds of people. 1st,this kind of people use indirect violent to attack me. They eliminate me by supporting and helping people who intentionally hurt me. Their motivation is "flattering the winner can avoid being hurt, and the man who intentionally hurting wenheqian is winner".Current government army protect them. 2nd,this kind of people attacks me directly with violence. Their motivation is "enjoy using the kindness of victim to hurt the victim, and believe they can enjoy kindness of majority people after intentionally hurting others." Their motives can become reality, because current government also protect them, they intentionally hurt others but sympathize and enshield each other, and they can use lies to deceive the same kind people with victims. They are both gay and lesbian, They have sex desire to intentionally hurt me. 6.After public this article, the government forced all people to wear masks outdoor on the reason of preventing the spread of a pneumonia virus, so I could not go to the streets to look for my kind. this is a government conspiracy of gay governor, which shows that I have no means to resist.I despairly wait death. 7,Human civilization has no hope.The lies of gays and lesbians destroy natural science. Nowadays, economy is extremely wasteful of mineral resources, unsustainable. And a large number of garbage is generated, no recycling, garbage will cover up earth. 8. I have think long time,confirm can't find method to eliminate majority people advantage.I don't have time to write out their advantages. They are asymmetric. My kind have no value to exist, can Killing before die is optimal solution. Memoirs of Xiaozhen, a fictional novel(author is wenheqian) author's self report, Most people say I am gay, but in fact, my sexual psychology is the same as lesbians. I have speech defect psychology. I am going extinct. Most people are homosexual. I use lesbian perspective to expose the truth. text:In 2093, the earth was unified. Gay and lesbians cooperated to take power. Gay men controlled the military. Lesbians were in charge of economic management. My name is Xiaozhen. I'm a lesbian. My father, a government spy, his work is finding and killing rebellious heterosexual men. My mother didn't have a job and raised her children at home. Schools teach all students mainstream ideology, mainstream ideology prohibit homosexuality, but in fact, heterosexual men and women will be said as homosexual by majority gay and lesbian, and then legitimate sexual abuse. When I was in primary school, I love a female deskmate, She was very tall and white. Although I was a woman, I was full of curiosity about her body,I often find chance to touch her,and fantasy make her my sex slave. From middle school to university, I served as a student cadre, whose task is to help female leaders and teachers of the school find beautiful girls. Beautiful girls will become sexual slaves of female leaders and teachers. In the college dormitory, beautiful girls are only 1/6, each dormitory is lesbian majority,They would malicious call beautiful girls lesbians,then they cooperate sexual abuse and force accompany sleep.For example, we will intentionally occupy the toilet and force the beautiful girls to urinate with us. Because I am a student cadre, I have slept with many beautiful girls. For example, Deng, I lay on my back and forced her to lie on my body.I touched her labia and clit and vagina, and use my lower abdomen had girl girl sex with her. When I graduated from University, one day, my father ask me help to find a way to eliminate a kind men surnamed Wen.Because they are good at exposing the lies of the government, sham democracy and sham speech freedom, they disgrace the government. I secretly observed men surnamed Wen. I think their sexual psychology is the same as mine. Although I know that they are miserable, I also want to exterminate them because they threaten my existence. I found genetic engineering technology can realize the reproduction between women and women. So I planned to build a pure female society, in which lesbians are in power and heterosexual women are sex slaves. I think gay men have no understanding, they don't understand natural science, and they waste natural resources extremely. This is caused by the low class sexual psychology of heterosexual women, Heterosexual men is the ruler in past who evolved to reasonable. Heterosexual women are the sex slaves of heterosexual men.

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