#she went ''if i am to get off this island and reach my goal ill need your help'' and he went NOTED

[eachlanguagewritten]

Henry + being ride or die for Carina

#henry turner #brenton thwaites #carina smyth #kaya scodelario #pirates of the caribbean #dead men tell no tales #she went ''if i am to get off this island and reach my goal ill need your help'' and he went NOTED #and then never once glanced back #fc #mine

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Home Sweet Home: Catch ‘Em

Summary- 3.9k Andy Barber x You. You and Andy almost have it all, married and with a jointed family consisting of Andy’s teenage son Jacob, as well as your two younger children John and Cassidy. Looking to add another member, your family is in need of a bigger house, a forever home. You find just the place, 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville Long Island.    Home Sweet Home

Written for @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ Spooky Scary Stories challenge. Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Child Endangerment, Hints of Smut (nothing graphic) Swears.

A/N- I chose Amityville Horror for the challenge because its one of my favorite Spook Stories growing up. When reading you will find a lot of similarities to the 2005 Movie, some of the scenarios and dialogue are specifically from that film. Other parts of it are from the book itself. The family name was changed for my own personal reasons. Happy Haunting!  🎃

A/N 2- We’re halfway through! 

Chapter 2 / Masterlist

The family settled and a few weeks later, morning started out normal for the rest of the household , but didn't start that way for Andy. His coughing never seemed to break and he was covered in a light sheen of sweat. You were already up to make breakfast for everyone, and Andy came down the stairs, rubbing at his chest. 

“Coffee Andy?” You ask while holding the coffee pot over his mug but he shook his head. 

“No, I actually came down hoping to find some cough syrup? Or pain medicine? Anything really. We don't have any upstairs.” 

“Oh I tossed out the old stuff. But I will pick some up when I go out today. I told Jacob that I would drop him off at the high school today after I got John on the bus.” 

Just as you were saying this, a stampede of footsteps came down the stairs making Andy wince a bit and all three kids came around the corner into the kitchen. Andy barked out a bit sharply, which even surprised you. “Y’all don’t need to be running on the stairs.” He coughed again and shivered. “Fuck its cold… I'm going down to check on the heater. If you could get that stuff, that would be great.” 

He snapped the door open and disappeared from sight while you were staring after him in surprise. Even all three of the kids seem to be in shock. Jacob just shrugged at his father's weird behavior and went to sit on a stool at the kitchen bar, the other two following him while you set plates with some scrambled eggs on them in front of them. Jacob just took toast nibbling on the edge of it a bit. 

“My phone cant keep any kind of charge whatsoever! I just got this thing to.” Jacob flipped it around to show you, and you saw it was already at 50 percent. You frowned at that, because of course he had one of the better styles of phones. Much better than anything you've ever had. 

“Your charging cord is working and everything?” You question and he nods, slipping it in his pocket. 

“Works just fine. It charges it to one hundred percent, twenty minutes later it is back down to fifty.” 

You shrug at Jacob at a loss and happen to glance at a small clock on the kitchen windowsill. “Shit.” you hiss out and down the last of your coffee. “Come on, time for the bus before we're late. Jake, meet you in the car.” You grab your car keys and open the door to call down to Andy. “I'm taking the kids to school.” 

You heard nothing more than a resounding deep cough and frowned reminding yourself to pick up that cough medicine for Andy on your way home. “Got your backpack John? Alright, lets go.” The whole pack of kids ushered out the door, leaving Andy all alone. 

Andy is pacing downstairs, waiting for the heater to kick on, cursing it out. 

“Spent all this money and the damn thing wont work.” he mutters while pulling the chair from his desk to it to sit in front of it, messing with the buttons on the front till a groaning protest came from the heater, and it clicked on to blast a bit of cool air, and quickly switched to warm. Rolling his chair back to his desk, he pulled out files from the bottom drawer to contact his clients and inform them that he was back in business at his new location. 

He was so tired though, having felt like he was up half the night feeling ill, and within a few moments he simply closed his eyes to rest them, he would use as an excuse to himself. Within moments he nodded off, and the creeping shadow came out of hiding, solidifying in front of his desk. Sharp clicking steps echoed against the cement floor and claws seared when they touched the wood of Andy's desk. It leaned forward to loom over the desk, over Andy whose chin rested against his chest. Forked tongue slithered along Andy's face, making him twitch in his sleep, whispering “Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em” Red eyes watched his victim for a moment, seemingly at peace in this state. It flexed its hands, claws scratching into the wood before giving a hard shake, sending  papers and pens flying, Andy’s laptop skidding across the surface and a picture that you had set on there yesterday crashing loudly to the floor. Cracking the glass into shattering pieces across the floor to glint wickedly. Andy’s eyes sprang open and he tipped forward to grab his shaking desk in surprise to see glowing red eyes and the scream of “Catch ‘em!” 

Then it all stopped, and he shoved back from his desk, pressing his heels to his eyes thinking he was seeing things. “What the fuck, what the fuck.” when he lifted his head, his breathing shaky to look at his desk, it was all normal. His papers were still exactly where he had set them before, his laptop in sleep mode ready to be used, pens all neatly lined up how he liked, and his family looking at him with wide happy smiles and laughs at the beach, the glass shining slightly in the light. 

“Jesus Christ Andy, get it together.” he shivered, cold once more and started coughing again. The door at the top of the stairs opened and your soft footsteps brought you down, Andy glanced up to see you carrying a steaming mug with the string of a tea bag wrapped around the handle and a paper bag that he assumed must have been the med’s he asked for. You reached the bottom and started approaching him, seeing his flushed face, the way he was heavy breathing with the rise of his chest, and you frowned while sitting the mug in front of him. 

“Baby, you don't look so good.” Your hand brushed against the side of his face, and it felt ice cold to him. Jerking out of your touch a bit, he wrapped his hands around the mug and sipped from it, scowling at the taste. 

“Don't talk to me like one of the kids Y/N.” he bit out of nowhere and he could see your face flash in a bit of hurt. “Sorry- sorry… I don't know what's wrong. Just a head cold is all. Are those the med’s?” 

“I got you a bit of everything.” your voice was colder towards him now, turned off from his offhand comment, and you set those down to, Andy knew he had to make it up to you, that was twice in the same morning he had been short, completely out of character for him. His hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his lap, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I have been an ass this morning.” He said, hoping you would ease up a bit. Which you did, he felt you relax on his thigh and your hand lifted to brush through his hair, tilting your head. 

“I know you're not feeling good. Come up soon and lay back down though? I am worried about you.” you confess, and he nods. “I gotta go back up and check on Cassidy.” 

You leave him at his work, and going up the stairs, you leave the door open to let the kitchen's sunshine at least shine down the dark stairs. Maybe it will remind Andy to come back up you think to yourself as you leave the kitchen. 

As soon as you do, the door eases shut, closing him back down in the dark belly of the house. Up the stairs, you walk the long hallway towards Cassidy’s room, gazing along the walls, imagining the photos you wanted to hang along the way when you heard Cassidy’s soft voice seemingly talking to someone. 

“No Jody, I cant. Mommy wouldn't like that, and neither would Andy.” You tilt your head curiously hearing this now, recalling her mentioning someone by that name a few times now since moving in. 

“Well, okay Jody, that doesn't sound too bad. And it is really cool. He took me out on it a few times. Even let me drive it once.” 

You eased her door open to see her standing in the middle of her room, and she jumped when she saw you. 

“Oh mommy! You scared me.” She giggled, and you poked your head around the door to see what she was talking to. Nothing, there was nothing there. 

“Who are you talking to, Babygirl?” You ask, and Cassidy looks once more where she had been talking before answering. 

“Jody, but they are gone now.” she hummed and turned towards her box of toys to dig through it. You come into the room and go to sit on the edge of her bed, watching as she pulled out a few of her dolls and brought out her tea set. 

You wiggle your nose a bit, knowing imaginary friends were not uncommon. You pull up to a stand as she is setting up her dolls around a small table. “Do you want me to have tea with you?” 

“No Mommy, I wanna just play by myself.” She said happily and you lean down to kiss the top of her head. Walking out, Cassidy followed behind you, peeking out to see you heading off to go back down the stairs. 

“Okay Jody, she's gone. You still wanna go down to see the boat?” Cassidy looked over her shoulder to see the closet door easing open on its own. Cassidy giggled, and raced out of her bedroom, one goal in mind. Going to the boathouse. 

You're in the kitchen, unpacking the last few boxes when you hear Cassidy’s feet thumping down the stairs. Luckily Andy is still down in the basement and hopefully can't hear the thumps that seemed to bother him. You were surprised in finding the door, but figured he must have had to shut it if he was talking to a client. Opening it back up to hear Andy was still downstairs, typing away on his laptop now with the clicking noise that worked its way up the stairs. Humming you lift another box on the table and start to unpack the contents. Turning your back from the fridge, you hop up to sit on the edge of the counter so you could fit the dishes together and put them on the upper shelf you couldn't reach. Unnoticed by you, the alphabet letters on the fridge start shifting around, letters coming together to fit together in a couple words. 

When you finish, you hop off the counter and turn back to catch sight of the refrigerator door, your eyes widening at the horrible words spelled on the door. 

Katch ‘em Kill ‘em 

You gasp in shock at them, wondering who would have possibly written that. Thumps on the stairs distracted you half a second and Andy appeared with his mug for a refill. “Andy, did you write that on the fridge?” you say in a slightly accusing voice, and he frowns while glancing at you as he heads to put the kettle on the stove. 

“What are you talking about Y/N?” 

“The magnets on the fridge.” You answer and you both turn to the fridge door to see the letters scattered all over the place, not spelling anything. You scowl in frustration, because you know what you saw and Andy gives you a strange look. 

“What words?” he asks while he's at the sink, filling up the kettle with water and you just shake your head. 

“Nothing, I thought I saw something, but I didn't.” you brush it off, now unsure of what you saw. While you're unwrapping more dishes, you suddenly hear Andy utter. “Oh shit, Cassidy!” and the tin sound of the kettle crashing in the sink while Andy is sprinting to the back door and outside. You drop what you're doing and follow him out, right on his heels as he's running down the wooden deck steps and headed straight for the boat house. “ANDY?” You shout from behind him as he's running full out across the deck. “What's wrong?!” your panicked, unsure what is going on while Andy is trying to wrench the door open. 

“Cassidy, I saw her go in here.” He rushed out as he wrenched on the handle, trying to get it to unclasp. You start pounding on the door now in a frantic way, Cassidy couldn't swim, and the boat house was stretched over the lake, should she slip in, there was a good chance she would drown. Your fear builds as Andy continues trying to get the door open. “What the fuck. CASS! OPEN THE DOOR.” he yells while trying to push it open.

“Oh god Andy, get it open, get it open.” tears start to well up in your eyes as you picture your daughter slipping under the water out of sight. 

Andy growls out and pushes you aside to slam against the door, hoping to wrench it open. “I'm trying Y/N, get out of the way.” 

Your just about to jump in to swim around to the other side of the boat house when the door sprang open and you both race in, looking around the dim interior to see Cassidy standing on the nose of the motor boat just staring out over the lake, you gasp in surprise seeing her like that as Andy made his way carefully along the edge of the deck not to startle her. 

“Cass, Babygirl, look at me.” Andy says softly as he makes his way towards her. Your right behind him. 

“Cassidy, look at Andy.” you whimper out, watching as she gets closer to the edge of the boat, and her gaze was so far away out over the lake, like she never noticed you or Andy trying to get to her.

“Cass!” He says more urgently, and she jumps to look at him, slipping a bit as the boat rocks from her movements. “Take my hand baby.” He stretches his hand out and she shakes her head a bit. 

“I can’t, I gotta go.” Cass say’s with certainty, tilting her head like she was listening to someone else. “Jody want’s to take me to play.” 

“Take his hand Cass!” your panic rushing your voice and Andy stretches out further over the water, his voice turning hard and authoritative. 

“Cassidy I’m not asking again. Take my hand.” When Cassidy heard him this time, she snapped her head to look at him and her eyes grew wide with surprise. She stretched for his hand, her fingers trying to reach for his. Andy is quick to snatch her and pull her off the boat to safety, falling back against the wall from the momentum. You gather your daughter in your arms, giving a sob. 

“Cassidy what were you doing, you could have drowned.” 

Now the girl is caught up in Andy's and yours fear, giving her own sob as tears burst from her eyes while you and Andy rush out of the boat house with her strongly clutched in your arms, stopping just outside as she wails out. “Jody wanted to see the boat Mommy! Jody wanted me to go with them.” 

“Cass, there is no Jody!” your nerves shook so you shout at her in anger and fear, and Andy reaches to take Cassidy from your arms. 

“She's scared Y/N and didn't know any better, yelling isn't going to help.” He turns the little girl in his arms as she sobs into his shoulder, his hand smoothing along her back to calm her down. “Hey Kiddo, it's going to be okay.” He tried calming Cassidy who’s sobs wracked her body in Andy’s arms, and you walked away a bit to take a shuddering inhale. You know he's right, you're just upsetting her more, but your fear outweighed that right now. 

“Just lock that damn door Andy, so this doesn't happen again.” you look back at the door and he nods. 

“I will go pick up a lock at the hardware store, I promise.” He assured you and you nodded, wiping away your tears. Now your daughters crying in Andy’s shoulder upset you, made you feel guilty for yelling at her. You move to press your hand against her back and say her name. She tilts her head to look at you through teary eyes and you try giving her a shaky smile. 

“I’m sorry baby, I didn't mean to yell. You just really scared me and Andy.” 

She gave a sniffle and Andy eased her back so she could wipe her face dry and look at both of them. 

“I’m-i’m sorry. Next time I will ask.” She said, and you nodded. Andy shifted her once more to rest on his hip. 

“Cassidy, the boathouse is dangerous and you know off limits to you and John. If Jody tells you to do something you're not supposed to, what do you tell Jody?” he asked and the little girl lifted her arm to wipe her face again, hiccuping as she tried to catch her breath. 

“I tell Jody no Andy.” she said, his hand still rubbing against her back. 

“That's right, if you're not sure if you're allowed, you come ask Mommy, Me, or Jacob if it's okay.” he smiled at her to reassure her that it was all okay.

She gave a nod and he held up a pinkie finger, which she hooked her finger around and Andy kissed her forehead. “Pinky promise I swear Andy.” 

“Can't break a pinky promise. You know… I think I have some cookies up at the house.” He said, his hand coming up to brush the last tears away with his thumb on her cheeks. “You wanna get a snack before I have to go back to work?” 

Cassidy seemed to consider it. “Oreos?” 

“Of course they are oreos!” Andy winked as you all headed back up to the house. “Best cookie there is, right?” 

Cassidy gave a firm nod, and you let out a relieved breath. Crisis averted. 

Later that afternoon, Andy came back out of the basement just as you were finishing the kitchen, Cassidy coloring at the table while he grabbed his keys. 

“I will go pick up Jacob and stop at the hardware store.” He pecked a kiss on your cheek, and you looked at him. 

“You sure you're feeling up for it?” 

Andy nodded and flashed a smile. “I feel much better Love, those meds kicked in and some fresh air will do me good.” 

You happen to agree since he's been in that basement most of the day, and you wave a goodbye, deciding you should probably figure out what's gonna be for dinner later in the day. “How about tacos tonight Cass?” 

She cheers and  you double check to make sure there was enough ingredients, which there was. No need to send Andy a text to pick up anything. “Come on kiddo, lets go pick John up from the bus stop.” you snap the door shut, bluntly ignoring the letters scattered over the fridge. 

Heading down the driveway, the house groaned, all alone once again. There was a shattering through the kitchen, your finest dishes being flung from the cupboard and against the wall, fine china dust settling in the air as the scattered pieces spread across the linoleum for you to find later. The basement door wrenched open and the yawning darkness going down the stairs turned darker, more ominous. 

When you came back, you stared in shock, stopping both John and Cassidy from going in to save them from stepping on shattered broken shards. “How about you two go on up to your rooms to play while I clean this up?” 

Both children went upstairs, and you grabbed a broom to start sweeping, as you passed the basement door, you slammed it shut in frustration and anger. 

Night fell and you got the kids settled in. Settling in bed yourself to lean against the headboard, massaging your temples while Andy was in the bathroom getting ready for bed.

You were beat after having to help John with his homework and Cassidy suddenly changed her mind and just hated tacos. Andy seemed to be feeling better, helping where he could. Offering to take over the dishes when John called you back to the kitchen table, and afterwards he hugged you from behind, kissing your neck while whispering in your ear that he couldn't wait to put a baby in you before he went back down to the basement to finish up with a few things.  

Thinking back on his idea made you warm up and when Andy came back in the bedroom and stretched out next to you, you looked at him, biting your lip while looking at him.

“You really wanna tonight?” you asked hopeful, since moving your and Andy’s sexual escapades had diminished a bit and you put it all to the stress of moving a whole family to a new house.

“Make you a baby momma? Of course, come on over Pretty Girl.” He reached up to click off the lights and bathe the room in the moonlight when you gently eased into his lap, the two of you starting with gentle affectionate kisses before they turned deeper and needier. Andy's hands slid up and down your back through your tank top, and you would sigh against his lips at how good it felt. Andy chained kisses from your mouth to your jaw and you tilted your head back to let him chain those kisses of his down your neck. He pulled you in closer to feel more of you when his glance lifted to look in the mirror just behind you at the end of the bed. 

At first Andy had no idea what he was actually looking at, a grotesque face appeared above him in the mirror, like it was balancing on the headboard behind him. Crouching in place, its clawed hands dug into the wood, its muscled body flexing as it swayed slightly on the head board. Up to its face, a forked tongue slithered out and red eyes glared at him in the mirror. How could something from a nightmare be here right now? He wasn't asleep, he was just about to make love to his wife. His head jerked back in shock, banging against the headboard with a loud crack as he looked up to see nothing above him. “Fuck!” 

You yanked up in surprise, running your hands down his chest. “Handsome, what's wrong?” your head tilted and you looked where he was staring, feeling his heart starting to race under your hands. 

“You didn't see that?” He grasped your hips, making you go still as you frowned. 

“See what Andy?” his gaze fell back to ours and then back up. 

“There was something there, fuck I saw it in the mirror. I don’t even know what it was. It looked like a- ” He grasped your hips and sat up to look around, your hands grabbing onto the front of his tee shirt in surprise. Looking back to the mirror and then to Andy who was still trying to figure it out. 

“Like what Andy?” You are studying him trying to figure out what he was talking about. 

“Fuck it I know Y/N.” His hold tightened on you a moment, like whatever was going to rip you away while he still looked around the room. 

“Hey hey, Andy.” you cup his face and make him look at you, kissing his forehead and down till you leaned your forehead against his. “It's okay, there is nothing there, I promise.” Your lips brushed against his. His breathing slowly started to settle back down, and your hands rubbed against his shoulders and the back of his neck as he started to sink back against the pillows, rubbing at his face. 

“It was so real though Y/N. These past few weeks, I feel like I'm losing my mind.” 

You tilt your head and brace your hands against his chest. “Stress Andy, we’ve had a lot going on. It will get better, I promise.” 

His blue eyes shined up at yours and softened seeing you looking down at him, his hands going back to tracing your thighs clasped at his sides. “You know I love you right Pretty Girl?” 

You nodded and he twisted you two around till you were underneath him, and tilted your head up to kiss you deeply. “I think I was just about to put a baby in you.” 

You giggled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and whispering. “Yes you were Andy.”

#home sweet home #DinoScaryStories2020 #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber au #amber writes #sweater writes #halloween #halloween 2020 #writing challenge #amityville horror

[littlehouseofkarlacade]

k so since i’ve been hiding the fact that i’ve been depressed and frustrated af lately, i’m just gonna slam it all here under a read more. ignore if you want, actually please do, it’s just me bitching again--

so holy shit the way america is rn frustrates the absolute hell out of me. covid has only made it worse; it feels like we’re never gonna get out of this fuckin’ pandemic because of people screaming that their rights are being violated bc they’re being asked to wear masks (?????? you’d fuckin’ hate it in asia then, ya goddamn snowflakes) and having parties all over the place, plus there’s all the politics shit that i’m not even going to get into, and just... it’s so damn hard to actually live here because everything costs a motherfuckin’ fortune. for fuck’s sake, i am a woman making $15 an hour at a part time job that gives me only 12-15 hours a week, how the fuck am i gonna succeed in anything with that?!

holy fuck. i want so many things that are just out of reach, it feels like. i want to help sylvie start HRT so she can finally start kicking gender dysphoria’s ass and actually start being happy with herself and her body, but considering she has practically 0 health insurance, she makes even less than i do, and it’s fuckin god-tier expensive, i have no idea where to even start with that. a friend of mine told me about planned parenthood (which would probably be a really good idea for both of us, considering i’ve never had my, uh, inner workings checked out), but i have no idea if there’s even one in our area or anything, or how we’d go about starting anything regarding that. it’s so goddamn frustrating, because i hate seeing her hate herself and her body so much because she’s got the wrong goddamn one, and i feel like she’s just got this general feeling of hopelessness around the entire thing, and i want to show her that it is reachable for her, but... how am i supposed to do that if i don’t even know where to begin?!

ALSO, not even relating to that

i want a house. not an apartment, not to keep living with people i barely know, but my own actual goddamn house. my credit score is lookin’ pretty damn good right now -- it’s almost in the 700s, but... i have no idea where to start with that either. and like... i’m afraid, as well. because if we go buy a house, and then something happens where we can’t afford things with the house anymore, then we’re fuckin’ homeless. and like. i’ve been homeless before -- not out on the streets, but i was couchsurfing for a good year and a half, and that sucked -- and i never want that to happen again. rent is expensive as fuck, more than both of us put together can afford, especially with all of sylvia’s bills. our roommate kicked us out of our old place, so we had to quickly scramble to find a place, so we’re living with a couple of sylvia’s friends, and i personally cannot stand it. it’s nothing against them, really, i just. i hate being almost 29 and still having to rely on others for a place to fucking live. it’s fucking godawful. and considering i don’t have any family members or anything that will help me, it’s so... alskdjflkdsal;afd

plus we’re not even in our original city anymore, we’re stuck on a goddamn island that we have to pay a toll to drive back onto every time we go home from work, so that fuckin’ sucks. and i miss our old city so much and it hurts so bad that we don’t live there anymore; i was really at home there, it was the first place where i really felt i could be myself and just... leaving there fucking sucked. i want to go back, and i fully intend to. someday. when i can actually afford things like a goddamn house. why are houses so goddamn expensive anyway; it’s like fuckin’ robbery. idk.

PLUS, since i graduated from community college this past semester, i’m currently on a break, and i fully intend to go back to university, hopefully in fall semester. BUT, idk, it looks like i’m gonna have to push that back to spring 2022, considering we don’t have a place of our own, i can’t drive (was going to get my permit this past summer but covid fucked that in the ass), and while we don’t want to live here, i have no idea where we will be living, and location matters a lot for me since i can’t fuckin’ drive!! i can’t even start applying to universities until we figure that out, and it’s just... god. i feel like i’m spinning my goddamn wheels again, and i fucking hate that feeling.

this is all over the goddamn place and i’m so sorry for that, but i’m just so frustrated and thinking on all of it makes me so fucking depressed that most days lately i just feel like giving up. stop having goals, try to be content working at fuckin target for the rest of my life (even though it makes me wanna die). but goddammit, i’m too fuckin’ ambitious for that (before jkr turned into a fuckin’ bitch, i always got slytherin house because that’s me, kids), and i apparently can’t be satisfied with what i already have because i’m a spoiled-ass bitch, i guess. i always want better. like. i feel like i have to make something of myself before i’m allowed to feel happy and content with my life, and that’s frustrating too. it’s like... i dunno. things aren’t happening the way i want them to, and i just get pissed off at myself for allowing things to happen as they are.

just... god. fuck off. eat the rich. fuck capitalism. i don’t want to be a millionaire or anything. i just want to make enough to not have to live paycheck to paycheck and be able to actually afford things i want without feeling fuckin’ guilty about it. i mean jfc i spent almost $50 on tea shit on this past paycheck bc i got a bonus from target corporate so i had some extra money, but i still feel guilty about it!! and. jesus christ. i don’t know where i went wrong. probably being born to poor, abusive people is where i went wrong.

fuck off.

having mental illness and being poor is. fucking awful. i don’t wish it on anyone.

i just want things to be betterrrrrrr for fuck’s sake.

the end

#karla is frustrated #real talk with karla

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

An Escape.

This is...just an ordinary room?

An ordinary room with a secret door. There’s a switch around here somewhere.

500 yen says it’s the bookcase.

*Sonia heads over to the nearest bookcase.

Knew it.

I know you’re a detective and everything, but how did you know it was the bookcase?

It’s always the bookcase.

I’ve never quite used it myself but the switch should be right about...here.

*Sonia reaches to the back of the top shelf and pulls on something. When she does, the bookcase slides out of the way, revealing a secret passage.

Alright. Let’s go, and fast!

It’s dark down here...

Tread carefully everyone. Watch your step, and your head in case it gets narrow.

...

Sonia? Is everything alright?

Yes, I am fine...it is just...

If the perpetrator behind this rebellion is this Angie Yonaga you speak of, then why would she start a rebellion? I’ve never even heard of her before.

Yeah, and from what you said, it sounds like she’s from your world, meaning SHE probably doesn’t know Sonia either. So why would she attack Novoselic?

I honestly have no idea...Angie is really hard to read.

She definitely feels some complex emotions and has drive inside her, but she more often than not covers it up with a smile.

...A smile that can draw you in and let her control you...

You keep mentioning this “control” and “manipulation” stuff...but what does it all mean?

Angie religiously follows this God that originates from the island where she grew up. His name is Atua, and she acts like she’s his prophet.

After the second class trial, Angie manipulated and brainwashed half of us into joining this “Student Council” where their goal was to relieve everyone of any motivation to escape, by cutting off all access to the outside world...

But this student council was nothing more than a cult, and Angie was manipulating everyone into doing what she wanted.

Including me...

Himiko...

But...her reason was to protect you all and to stop another murder, was it not? That is why she tried to cut you off, so you wouldn’t have temptation to kill, correct?

So...is she really a bad person?

No! Sh-She isn’t!

Angie’s...not bad...I know she isn’t...!

But...that’s why it doesn’t make sense...would she really do something like this?

Hmph...knowing Angie, I wouldn’t put any maniacal scheme past her...I’m still convinced that she is secretly a male...

So YOU don’t like her?

It’s not that I don’t like her, I just...

Just what...?

I...I just think she’s dangerous, that’s all. I don’t trust Angie as far as I can throw her...

Although...I could probably throw her pretty damn far...

I’m with her on that one. Whether we want to admit it or not, Angie is our enemy in this scenario. She’s unpredictable, and we need to be careful around her.

But...

Why Novoselic!? What did we ever do to her!?

Sonia...

Sonia may have brought catastrophe to the people of this kingdom, but I went around talking to all the guards yesterday.

All of them seemed pretty set in stone that they didn’t have any lingering feelings...

So what, they just had a change of heart!?

That’s why I’m even more convinced that Angie’s the culprit behind this. She’s good at tugging at people’s heartstrings and using trauma against them.

But...what of my uncle? He did all he could to heal the rift in the kindgom. And he succeeded...so why!?

Um...S-Sonia?

Yes Mikan?

...I’m sorry...

What for?

There’s...something I found out...something you might not like...

B-But...m-m-my years as a nurse...t-taught me...t-to...to...

Oh, n-never mind...

Hey! Don’t just stop! Spit it out already!

I-I don’t think Lord Rufus died of old age!

Huh?

What do you mean...?

Th-The guards who took care of them said that in his final days...L-Lord Rufus...developed an illness where he coughed up blood...

So, he died of an illness?

N-No...I recognized the symptoms immediately...th-they’re very specific...

I...um...

Mikan. Calm down. You can do it.

I...I’m sorry...

I think...Angie Yonaga may have poisoned him...!

WHAT!?

Poisoned him!? Th-That is impossible!

Why though? A-And if that’s true then...how long has Angie been planning this...!?

There is a reason that she may have...

What’s that?

Think about it. Now that Lord Rufus is dead, Sonia has a claim to the throne, so she’d have to return for her coronation.

And that’s exactly what Angie wanted...!

You mean she killed her uncle to lure Sonia here...?

To kill her and take the throne herself?

I think so...It seems plausible when you think about it. Sonia is the last remaining obstacle between Angie and the kingdom. Her death means there won’t be any more problems.

N-No...

That settles it...

Angie’s dead when I see her...

Tenko, stop. Killing Angie won’t solve anything.

What do you mean? We can stop her before she has a chance to go through with her plan!

Tenko...surely you of all people know that we’ve all seen enough death to last us a lifetime...

...

...Sorry...you’re right...I-I take back what I said...

B-But I’m definitely still going to punch her in the face!

H-How...how could she...?

I know this must be hard Sonia...but come on. We’ve got to keep moving.

...Yes, I’m coming.

*Sonia instinctively takes Gundhams hand, and everyone keeps going in a depressed silence.

What the-?

N-No!

*The gang keep heading down the secret passage until they come to a broken bridge.

The hell is this...?

*Kaito pokes his head over the edge.

Shiiit...! That’s a LONG drop...!

Why is the bridge destroyed though? And...can we get past like this?

...!

Fiends..They knew...!

Huh?

Nyahahaha!

N-No...Th-That’s-!

*Everyone’s heads spin in the direction behind them.

Aloha! It seems we meet at last, Princess Sonia Nevermind!

My name is Angie Yonaga. And as much as it pains me to say it...

I must ask you to relinquish you life...!

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #dr2 #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #sonia nevermind #ibuki mioda #shuichi saihara #maki harukawa #kaito momota #tenko chabashira #himiko yumeno #kazuichi soda #hiyoko saionji #mikan tsumiki #angie yonaga #novoselic revolution arc

[teratotherapist]

Setting Sail, Going Home?

A young woman stands on the edge of oblivion. It was some twenty-three years ago she was first given life, so there's no need for the name based shenanigans; her name is ROSE LALONDE. She stands on jagged rim of a slab of meteoric stone, in front of a full scale replica of her childhood home reconstructed from online blueprints. She's about where her mailbox would be, she thinks.

Her lavender eyes scan the darkness of the furthest ring, seeking something. Someone. A glimmer of gilded hope in the deepest night. All that she finds is faraway glimpses of Eldritch outer gods and the light pollution of the strangers' session she's been delving. They were cool enough planets, she thinks, but... well, they weren't exactly made for her, were they? It's times like these she actually pines for the Land of Light and Rain, the whimsical planet she once found distasteful. Pandering, even condescending she thought. But really, maybe it was what she needed all along.

Times like these, she pines for LoLaR, and for its last known keeper; a certain dog-eared young woman, a lifelong friend, confidante, crush. Memories of late night movie streams with the whole friend-group, of even later-night aftermaths with just Jade, in all her frustratingly mysterious yet charming, quirky, brilliant glory. Memories of faltering façades after miserably botched school dances and bullying aggressions, of fretful reassurances from across the globe, of staring at that lovely face in the tiny chat window and wishing it was there before her instead. As irritating as her evasive flightiness could be, she adored the strange island girl, her oldest and deepest friend, her strongest crush.

It was for this girl, plus her next closest friend and the ghost of her cat, that the Seer set forth from the meteor. She left behind a lot - an ectosibling who irked her but for whom she cared, and his awkward sort-of-boyfriend; a pair of mischievous trolls whose infectious cackling gave the crew vigor and groans in competing measure; a concerning and inscrutable but largely defanged clown; a breathtaking alien woman for whom she cared deeply - loved, even. She had thought she'd come with her when she took off into the void. But Rose's rash tone, her planless haste, her stubborn, pigheaded refusal to compromise or wait before setting out gave her pause. She left behind a lot - a crowd of confused friends, a tearful lover, disappearing swiftly into the void as she set off.

She thought it would be quick - a foray out into the ruins of a few lost sessions, a skim through the infinite expanse in search of the golden Prospit ship; they'd waited at their apparently intended location for some few years, after all, with no sign of the new session nor their friends. Had they miscalculated? Had a half-blind psionic's optic blast aimed incorrectly, or been slower than they needed to be? Maybe they just needed to widen their search radius, and who better to quest for a glimmer in the darkness than the Seer of Light? But they hadn't agreed, and just watched as she departed, promising to return soon with new powers, and with friends in tow.

It took longer than expected, and to little avail. For some two years by her reckoning, she'd sought other sessions, always scanning the darkness for that glimmer of gold. Her magical prowess grew, but so did her loneliness, her desperation. When did she stop having fun tearing things apart and collecting lore? When did the solitude of puzzlecrypts and the hubbub of unknown consorts start to emphasize only her loneliness?

She knows she needs to go back. She needs the presence of at least some of her friends, if not all of them, for the sake of her sanity. She knows in her gut that Jade and John are still out there somewhere, but damn if her Sight will give her a clear answer as to where. And worst of all, despite ever attempting to reflect fearlessness and stalwart stoicism, she's afraid. She's afraid that somehow Jade - in her ever-knowing mystery - will know she's turned around. Will think she's abandoning them. That the girl she's loved since she was very young will hate her. She's afraid that upon returning to the meteor, she'll be met with only hostility, no second chances given. An unwelcome burden to her allies.

She turns her Sight to the void once more, opening her third eye, so to speak. The path "homeward" is clear. A long one, one of many months' travel, but a straightforward one. The threads of choice fray upon arrival, but she can pluck through them in time. The path towards Jade, however, is a frayed mess at the start. A thousand glowing strands, bundled and knotted and impossible to trace. There's too many ways one could go about finding her friends, and she can't quite find their destination in a satisfactory manner. Homeward it is, then.

She heads for her rooftop and deploys one of her methods of traversal - a VERDISOLAR SAIL, an alchemized contraption meant to capture the omnipresent glow of the Green Sun, that vast entity that exists, existed, will exist, before the beginning and after the end of its own birth and death. Some said it was gone, but then there was its glow, its raging heat and fiery mass far away, its solar currents. She doesn't pretend to understand it, outside of "something something, infinite timelines calling for infinite destructions and creations."

She clamps the device to her rooftop, heavy electromagnets gripping the metal in the building's framework. The sail unfurls itself, shimmering hexagons and a glimmer of stars that aren't there reflected in its depth. It looks like a radio antenna with a mystical sail at its peak. She angles it just so, catching the solar winds that she internally calls the Pumpkin Tide, in honor of her Green-Sun gardener friend's ill fated gourds. It billows briefly for a moment, then there's the faintest tug of motion, slowly mounting. She guides the meteor slab around, banking onto a new course. One that, she hopes, will lead her to her goal.

As the fragment begins to move under her guidance, Rose brings up Pesterchum and starts a message to one gardenGnostic. The interpreter finds many of these and asks for some specificity as to secondary multiverse handles. Unfortunately, Jade's handle is unknown, if she had one; so all Rose can do is broadcast and hope it reaches the right one somehow. Still, her fingers shake with nerves as she taps in a message.

tentacleTherapist{teratoTherapist} began pestering gardenGnostic {??} at {??:??}

TT: Jade, if you're out there, it's Rose. I... hope you still remember me after all this time.

TT: I don't know what went awry in our voyage, what nebulous powers conspired to keep us from our fated destination

TT: But I've been looking for you.

TT: Near and far, I've been scouring the ruins of broken timelines in search of new powers to find you, always watching out for you.

TT: ...You were right, you know. I should have listened. If I'd conveyed myself differently, been less petulant

TT: Perhaps things would have unfolded differently, perhaps I would be aboard that ship with you and John, or perhaps we'd all be together in some tertiary Earth.

TT: But who's to say? My Sight looks forward, dwelling backward only brings sorrow.

TT: Though... I'm afraid I must divert from my seeker's path, for a time. The bastion of sanity and stability that I am, even I cannot withstand solitude in the Void forever.

TT: That's not to say I'm giving up the hunt.

TT: Your likely first dose of Lalonde earnestness and candor in many moons: I would go to the very ends of time to locate you. I just... need to recuperate, then the search can continue.

TT: It's my deepest hope that maybe this will be pointless and I'll return to the meteor, just to find you and John and everyone else, living it up all in one place. But if that's not the case, well.

TT: I will find you, Lalonde's honor.

TT: If you get this message, do be in touch, okay? My multiversal handle should be included.

TT: Send John, Davesprite, and Nannasprite my regards, and scratch Jaspers under his chin for me, if you could.

TT: And Jade? Do take care of yourself. Don't... Don't forget that you're missed, and you're so, so loved. To whatever degree you want to interpret that.

TT: I hope to see you soon, Jade. With love,

RL

The Seer sits down beside the sail and balls her fists up, rubbing them against her eyes to grind away the bittersweet tears. She's on her way "home", for better or worse, to arrive by year's end.

#long post #solo drabble #solo rp #very long post #sorry its so long

[laurelsofhighever]

The Falcon and the Rose Ch. 31 - Arrival

Chapter 1 on AO3 This chapter on AO3 Masterpost here

Fifteenth day of Justinian, 9:32 Dragon 

It took the Siren’s Call another two days to sail around the northern points of the Storm Islands and reach Dunedyn, stronghold of the Clayne. The weather had stayed clear, with stiff winds that pushed the ship onwards through waters that grew ever busier with foreign ships, traders and humble fishing vessels alike that gave them a wide berth or yelled cheery halloos across the white-tipped waves. Now, anchored south of the hold in the deep, sheltered waters of the Lee, the settlement’s brightly painted buildings stood out like jewels against an emerald hillside, the rope of a rich necklace draped over contours of rock leading down towards the harbour. That would be the ship’s final destination, but only once the most important members of the delegation went ashore and made their formal greetings to the Storm Giant and his retainers. 

Already dressed in her finery, Rosslyn stood by the bowsprit, her eyes cast out over a trio of fishing trawlers closing their nets around a shoal of mackerel, and the birds above them taking advantage of the easy meal. Lilac and gold, the morning sky warmed her face, wrapping her in isolation from the commotion on the deck as the longboats were loosed from their moorings and lowered over the side. Somewhere close by, Cuno, roused from his torpor by the activity, was barking at a seagull that had had the audacity to perch on one of the port lanterns. She paid him no heed. In less than an hour she would be face to face with her grandfather again, would have to look him in the eye and remember she was the one who had gone chasing glory and left the Seawolf to die. 

“Guess that answers my question,” said a voice at her elbow. She blinked and turned to see Tabris, her hair braided and clothes washed, but still with bare feet stained by streaks of tar. ”No one with a face that puckered like an arsehole ain’t nervous.” 

Rosslyn scowled at the description, but shrugged it off and turned away. 

“Riiiiight,” the elf huffed. ”Reassuring, that is.” 

Rosslyn’s mouth quirked in a humourless smile. “I wouldn’t have thought I’d be your first choice for reassurance.” 

“You know what they say about beggars,” came the tart reply. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

There was a pause as Tabris clambered onto the rail, chewing her lips in a rare show of deliberation as she decided her answer. Even despite the added height, she came in almost a head shorter than the human woman. 

“See, I’ve been tryin’ to figure,” she said once she was settled. “You shems have got enough fancy words and blood ties between you, you don’t need me to get your ships. So what am I doin’ here? You got me out of baldy-whatshisface’s clutches, and I heard the tellin’-off you gave the princeling, but don’t go thinking I’m fooled that you’re doing this for the elves.” 

“You’re right, I’m not,” Rosslyn answered bluntly. “I’m doing this to get revenge on the cur that murdered my family, and to stop Loghain bringing in reinforcements that he can use to win the war, so that I won’t be hanged at the end of it.” She tilted a wry look at over her shoulder when the elf opened her mouth to speak and closed it again just as quickly. ”Was that not the response you expected?”

“Got the arrogance about right.”

“What does it matter if I care, so long as our goals align?” she asked. “You care, and that’s why you’re here – it’s why you tried to rescue your kin and then ran all the way to Redcliffe, through a war-torn country, on the off-chance the king would help you when you couldn’t do it alone. The Clayne will listen to you, don’t worry about that.” 

“I’m worried about after,” Tabris sneered when Rosslyn once more turned her attention to the sea. “What happens to me after I’ve cheeped like a sparrow for you to get your soldiers? I killed a shem lordling.”  

“The king has pardoned you.” 

The elf scoffed and tossed her hair out of her eyes. “And of course that makes all this –” she gestured vaguely to her ears “– magically disappear. You lot have no clue – and don’t think I didn’t notice about not being invited to this little beach party you’re having. What are you even looking at out there?” 

With a sigh, Rosslyn raised her hand and pointed to a speck above the circling gulls, which grew out of the glare of the sun like an after-image. “It’s a gwyrling – they’re like griffons, but smaller. It’s rare to see one, especially at this time of day. It must have hatchlings in the cliffs.” 

The speck solidified into a creature with narrow, barred wings and a wickedly curved beak. In the space of a heartbeat, it swerved on a point and dived among the flock of gulls and they scattered, screaming in alarm. One, weighed down with the prize of a fish between its claws, dodged too slowly, and didn’t even have time to cry out as the gwyrling punched down and struck it across the back of the neck. The bird went limp, the fish wriggled free and splashed back into the water, and the gwyrling beat back up into the air with a flick of its long, leonine tail. 

“That was really something,” Tabris drawled. 

“The Clayne have augurs who would certainly think so,” Rosslyn replied, betraying a hint of impatience. “They read patterns in the flight of birds and use it to interpret the will of the Lady of the Skies.” 

“You believe in that tosh? What future gets predicted by that?” 

“That would depend.” She smirked. “Are you the gull, the gwyrling, or the fish?” 

“Your Ladyship!” Morrence hopped up to the deck, looking small in the light leather armour she and the others had adopted for the journey. Her hair too, was braided out of her eyes, a far cry from the practical tail she usually wore. “We’re almost ready to go, but His Highness is still below.” She spared a cool glance for Tabris and back to wait for orders. 

Rosslyn glanced to see the first of the boats being lowered over the side. “I’ll see what’s keeping him. And as for you,” she added, lowering her voice as she turned back to Tabris. “The sea doesn’t care what you are, and the gods don’t care if you believe in them or not. They help those who help themselves, and out here, there aren’t any alienage walls to hold you back.” 

“Surprised you managed to get all those fancy words out around that silver spoon stuck in your gob.” 

Alistair stood in front of the mirror borrowed from the captain’s quarters, trying not to sweat in his new clothes. The stuffy cabin didn’t help, but it was Brantis fussing with the lay of his sleeves, shooting questions about what he should do in increasingly specific and unlikely situations, that really had him agitated. With the outcome of the war hanging on the success of the mission, and Rosslyn’s grandfather being the person he had to impress, anything shy of tripping over his own boots and falling flat on his face would be reason to celebrate.  

“And with which hand should you give an item on the table, should you be asked for it?” Brantis asked in his reedy voice. 

“Is that a likely scenario?” How many people just casually asked royalty to pass the salt? 

“It does to prepare for all eventualities, Highness,” came the officious reply. 

 Sighing, Alistair turned his attention back to his outfit, to the contemplation of whether the rose pattern stitched into his jerkin was too much. As far as he could tell in the dim light, the red and gold suited the tone of his skin, and set off well against the bright cream of his shirt. He had already tested the practicality of the ensemble. Given that it lacked the ostentation favoured by those like Franderel, he still had enough range of movement to be able to fight without tearing a seam if the situation called for it, though the heavy, fur-trimmed mantle he had been forced into might make him choke with the heat first. 

He paused on his reflection, letting his eyes drift over the snarling shapes tooled into the rich leather. He never thought to sport the War Dogs, the symbol of the bloodline that had once discarded him, and yet there they were, one on each shoulder, offering a legitimacy that for the first time felt like something lighter than a curse. 

Brantis was still fussing. 

“Surely I’m ready now? I’m really not sure how much more preparation I can take. Surely it would be better to… uh…” 

Rosslyn stood in the doorway. His eyes dragged up and down her form, drinking in every detail. 

“How are things proceeding?” she asked as she glided into the room. A varnished box canted against her hip, tucked under her arm. 

“Quite well, Your Ladyship,” Brantis replied. “Quite well. His Highness will do us proud, if he will remember his manners.” 

Alistair blinked. “What?” 

He had been too busy staring to listen. The grey shimmer of her light coat brought out the sharp colour of her eyes, the cut of the material flared out from swaying hips, the deep blue inner lining a backdrop for white doeskin breeches that clung to deep curves and lithe, strong legs. When he managed to pull his gaze from that sight, it caught instead on the set of her shoulders and the way the open collar accentuated the fine tendons of her throat. She turned her head and her hair, pouring artfully over one shoulder, gleamed gold where a wreath of aurum leaves curled around from a knot at the nape of her neck. The whole effect was understated but striking, a casual display of power leagues away from the ill-fitting dress she had worn on Summerday.  

“… and your esteemed grandfather will of course have the final word.” 

They had carried on an entire conversation without him. Glancing between Brantis’ sidelong, exasperated looks and Rosslyn’s dry amusement, he felt heat flare all the way to the tips of his ears. 

“Will you leave us?” she asked the chamberlain, with a touch of pink in her own pale cheeks. 

Brantis bowed and hobbled away, and the two of them were alone. She crossed to a bulkhead and set down the box she had brought with her, which had completely slipped his attention in his ogling. Curious, he made out her personal sigil on the lid – a Falcon gripping a Laurel branch in its talons – but she had already crossed the space to stand in front of him and his throat dried up too much to ask about it. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. 

He tried to laugh. “Well, right now I’m not quite sure whether the eels rolling around in my stomach are there because of seasickness or nerves…” Or how stunning you look. He swallowed. To cover the treacherous line of his thoughts, he turned back to the mirror and brushed his hands down his front. “This lot could feed a family for a month – I feel like such a fool in it.” 

“Ah, but you don’t look like one,” she pointed out, grinning. “That’s the important thing.” 

“Ha-ha.” 

Fighting back her smirk, she appraised his attire with a critical eye, then came forward to readjust the seams Brantis had been playing with for half an hour, loosening them enough to give him room to breathe again. In theory. 

“It suits you.” Her hand lingered on his chest, the heat of her palm seeping through the fabric. 

He coughed. “There’s, uh, not as much gilt as I was expecting.” 

“Only merchants and Rivaini aristocrats weight themselves down with gold,” she chided gently. “Nobility should be seen in how you carry yourself, and there’s more besides – patronage of the arts, appreciation of craftsmanship, the cultivation of taste… actually, on that note, I have something for you – a gift.” Her glance darted away to the box on the bulkhead and he found himself following her as she went to retrieve it. 

“Rosslyn…” 

“I meant to give it to you later, on the island, but I thought… it might give you some extra confidence.” She chuckled, the smooth certainty of a moment before faltering as she held it out to him. “It seems silly to say that out loud.” 

“Not at all! This – this is for me?” he checked. “Really? I – wow, I don’t – I mean…” He could count on one hand the number of gifts he had received in his life, and the number that had come unprompted… well, that required significantly fewer fingers. 

She shrugged, flustered. “It’s nothing too grand, but it’s a tradition for vassals of the realm to give a gift to the heir apparent once their status is made official, and when we were delayed in Invermathy, I realised it completely slipped my mind. There’s an artisan there who used to work for my family and –”  

He reached out to touch her shoulder, to snap her out of her sudden nervousness, and the edge of his thumb accidentally brushed her neck – he never expected the skin there to be so smooth. 

“You still need to open it,” she said in a small voice.  

He started, cleared his throat, snapped his gaze to the box resting on his palm and bit his lip as he flicked the catch on the lid. A gift, entirely for him. 

He stared. Nestled in a cushion of blue velvet was a pair of leather vambraces embossed with intertwining shapes dyed in a multitude of colours. He recognised dragons, and eagles, and forefront of them all a red War Dog rampant with a gold-petalled rose caught in its snarling teeth. The workmanship was exquisite, almost too perfect to wear for fear of damage, the tooling so precise it seemed as if the figures had been persuaded rather than worked into the leather. 

“These must have been expensive,” he blurted.  

Rosslyn’s face, an instant before so open and anxious waiting for his approval, closed off, a sour line pulling at her mouth. 

“A gift is worth more than its base value, don’t you think?” she asked.  

He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to imply – I mean, I know with the war and everything you’ve had to –” 

“The condition of my finances is none of your concern,” she snapped. “I wasn’t thinking of the expense.”

“No, I know - Rosslyn…” He sighed, staring across the chasm of space that had suddenly risen between them, without her moving a muscle. “I’m sorry I offended you. So much for the start of an illustrious diplomatic career, don’t you think?”  

She searched his face, stung pride warring with doubt and something else that flitted by too quickly for him to name. 

“What did you mean to say?” The question was teased out slowly, deliberately. 

“Only that…” Maker, let him get the right words this time. “Nobody’s ever thought of me enough to – to do something like this for me. I only ever got things that were practical before – I used to go to bed at night and pray to the Maker to make me grow taller so the housekeeper would be forced to make me a new shirt, but it didn’t work nearly as often as I hoped.” He chuckled, but the tale only made her brows contract. “This… I am truly grateful – truly – I don’t know how else to express my gratitude, I…”  

“You like them, then?”  

He nodded. “They’re… Would you help me put them on?” 

She smiled, the tension disappeared from her shoulders, and everything was alright again as she raised her hands to take the box from him. The vambraces lifted easily out of the velvet pile, stiff and polished and smelling of beeswax, with just the right amount of give in the straps. Rosslyn returned and brushed his hands away so she could do up the knots for him, working the laces through the eyeholes with a deftness that had Alistair transfixed. When the first one was fitted to her satisfaction, she turned to the other, and his free hand settled on her waist, supple leather and samite warm under his fingertips. 

“What is that?” he asked. 

She glanced up. “What?” 

“That smell, some kind of flowers – in your hair.” 

“Oh.” She tucked a phantom strand behind her ear, biting her lip. “It’s jasmine.” 

“Jasmine,” he repeated as she went back to her task. “It’s nice.” 

“Thanks… All done.” 

He held up his hand to view her handiwork. The knots were neat, the vambrace itself well-fitted - not long enough to impede his movement but not so short that it made his arm look overly brawny. Rosslyn was smiling at him, patient, bemused by the childish enthusiasm he betrayed in his admiration of the War Dog snarling on his arm. 

“I know you didn’t expect anything,” he admitted, swallowing past the lump in his throat, “but I think I’m a little bit sorry I don’t have anything for you in return.” 

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything for this.” 

But her gaze flickered to his mouth, just a tiny movement of her eyes which he caught nevertheless, and he wondered if perhaps she was daring to ask for the return in a kiss. He wanted her to ask. They stood so close she had to tilt her head back to see him properly, so close his hand still on her waist felt the soft swell of her ribs as she breathed, the tension running like corded rope through her limbs. Beneath them, the ship pitched in the swell, tilting them further into each other’s space, and he realised if they did this now he wouldn’t want to stop. 

“We – we should go,” he managed, to keep himself from staring. 

She loosed a breath – relief? disappointment? – and stepped back. “We – yes. The tide will turn soon. It wouldn’t be a very good first impression to keep the Storm Giant waiting seven hours for it to turn back.” 

“Right. Yes, of course, just let me…” He reached past her for his sword belt and buckled it while she waited, and then followed her out of the cabin. They kept a careful distance as they strode up into the light and bustle of the deck, to Isabela barking orders so she could be heard over the noise of the dog, and Morrence already setting Connor into the first longboat next to Wynne.  

“Your turn next, Your Highness,” she said as they approached, offering a hand to help him over the rail. “Don’t think about the drop.” 

“You could have told me that before I looked,” he replied, and peered dubiously over the side. The longboat floated fifteen feet below, still lashed to the hull of the ship but rolling against the moorings like a horse tossing its head at flies. One false step on the frankly perilous ladder and he could easily fall between the two barks and be trapped underneath, dragged down into the depths by the weight of his fancy clothes. 

“There’s nothing to it,” Rosslyn reassured him with a squeeze of his shoulder. “I’ll go ahead and guide you down.” 

The tails of her coat flared behind her as she swung over the side, almost as nimble as one of the sailors. Only Alistair saw the white grip of her knuckles on the ropes, and the careful frown as she judged the last step between the ladder and the boat, but she smiled encouragement up at him. 

“Move one limb at a time,” she instructed. “Like you’re a lizard.” 

“Am I a handsome lizard at least?” 

She only rolled her eyes.

“Is the Storm Giant scary?” Connor asked, when Alistair had finally inched the last few steps into the boat. “I heard he can kill someone he doesn’t like just by looking at them.” 

“What nonsense,” Wynne chided next to him. “Not even a basilisk can do that.” 

Rosslyn shifted in her seat and winked at the arl’s son. “The Storm Giant isn’t a basilisk.” 

A shout came from above and the lines holding them to the Siren’s Call went slack, gathered in by two of the crew, who scrambled down the ladder and took their places, one in the rowing seat and one by the tiller. With a final salute to the captain, the rower pushed off from the side with the butt of an oar, with enough force to drive them out into open water. The second boat with their guard-captains and herald followed shortly after, two motes of dust on a clear blue slate. Though the water was mostly calm, spray curled back at them from the oars, and once a rogue wave slapped against the hull, rocking them all sideways. Rosslyn flinched, a muttered curse hissing under her breath, but gentle fingers wrapped around hers where they clung to the board, and she shot a grateful smile to Alistair next to her. 

 They made it through the breakers mostly unsoaked, though the moment they touched solid ground jarred hard enough to make Alistair fall forward and smack his knee against the hull. Rubbing out the tingles, he straightened and stepped out onto a beach of black pebbles, unable to help craning his neck at the sheer basalt cliffs warding back the sea. The ground swayed beneath him, but no, it was just his balance reasserting itself after so long on the water. 

“Is landsickness a thing?” he asked Rosslyn. “Because I think I have it. This feels weird.” 

“You’ll get used to dry land again, just in time to make the crossing back,” she laughed as she stepped out next to him. 

“Who’s that on the path?” Connor called from the boat.  

The rest of the party turned to where he was pointing. A set of rough stairs had been cut into the rock, commanding a view over the whole bay as it carved down from the emerald cliffs above. There was no other way up, at least not that Alistair could see, and he tried not to think about the potential consequences of a bad first impression; the tidemark stained the rock a full armspan above his head, and with no other shelter from the waves, the defenders would only have to wait.   

And there was the Storm Giant himself, Lord Fearchar Mac Eanraig, bearing down on them. Tall, with a shock of flyaway white hair and broad shoulders wrapped in dyed plaidweave, he marched at the head of his retinue with the pride of a full-crown hart, an enormous spiked mace girded at his hip. Without quite thinking about it, Alistair drew closer to Rosslyn’s side as their host descended the last few strides towards them. She noticed, and brushed her hand along his thumb in a brief show of reassurance. But when he caught her eye, she wasn’t smiling.  

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #da:o #dragon age au #alistair x cousland #alistair theirin #cousland #rosslyn cousland #tabris #ferelden #thedas

[ellymunro-blog]

Hello everybody! The name’s Cat (or Speedy... I answer to both). I’m 25, cisfemale, and from the EST timezone. I’ve recently just started a new job; and I’m also still recovering from a surgery I had last month. So I will apologize in advance if my activity isn’t the greatest. I promise it’ll pick up once my life becomes less hectic...

Anyway, I bring to you my little weirdo Ellis “Elly” Munro. She’s a modified version of a character I’ve played in a few groups before; so I’m interested in seeing how Crownsville Elly turns out. This RP honestly looks so great; and I can’t wait to start plotting with y’all! 

[ willa holland, twenty-three, cisfemale, she/her ]  — hey, I just saw [ ellis “elly” munro ] walking down the streets of crownsville. they’ve lived in town for [ two years ], and you can catch them around town working as a [sales associate at shazam comics ]. I hear they’re known to be [ loyal & determined ] and [ stubborn & cynical ]. if asked, they would say their aesthetic would be [ sushi rolls, piles of comic books, extra large cups of coffee, movie theatres, bruised knuckles, hospital bracelets ].

Backstory (trigger warning: mentions of chronic illness)

Ellis Amalia-Rose Munro, more commonly known as Elly, was born and raised in Los Angeles (Hollywood), California to an up-and-coming thriller screenwriter/director and his trophy wife. She was their second child, having a brother roughly thirteen years older.

Growing up, her family was well-off due to her father’s success with many of his films. He was, by no means, a household name as far as filmmakers went; but for fans of thrillers, most knew at least a good handful of his work (think of him like Shyamalan only not quite as popular).

She actually had a tendency to have a small role in every single one of her father’s films. This continued up until she moved away for college.

At the age of 3, she was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. She had faced multiple lung infections as well as poor weight gain for her first few years of life, thus leading to the diagnosis.

Her CF has always been well managed. It’s not something she ever let get in her way. She was always the very rambunctious and active child, just sometimes needing to take more breaks than others.

She was also a child model from the ages of 7-11. An agent had seen her in one of her father’s films and reached out. She was compliant for a few years; but modeling just was never really her thing.

Her mother is from Chelsea, London; and she grew up visiting her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins there every summer. London is one of her favorite places to go; and she’s quite proud of her British heritage.

At a young age, she was introduced to the world of comics and superheroes; and she was hooked from the start. She used to pretend she was a superhero, running around her house dressed like her favorites and wishing she had superpowers.

Due to her love of comics and superheroes, her parents thought it would be a good idea to get her involved in activities that would allow her to “train to be a superhero”. They signed her up for martial arts (she’s now a 4x blackbelt) and gymnastics. This way, she could use her imagination and stay in shape.

As the years went on, fencing and archery were added to Elly’s list of activities. And as soon as she learned what it was, she took up parkour as well. And out of everything she’s done, parkour has forever been her favorite.

She was actually once scouted for the Olympic archery team; and her coach kept encouraging her to train for a goal of the Olympics. But she never had any interest. To her, archery was just a hobby and nothing more.

After high school, she decided to go across the country for college; and wanting to stay in an area with warmer weather (she hates the cold/snow), she decided on attending the University of Miami as a psychology major.

While attending the University of Miami, she initially had no desire to end up on Greek Row. But she ultimately ended up pledging for and joining a sorority (Chi Omega) during her time at the college. 

Loving the east coast, she figured she’d want to stay in Miami or go elsewhere in Florida upon graduation (or not as she only finished three years of school); but she somehow ended up settling in the small town of Crownsville, Georgia. She’d gone home over the holidays with a friend who lived there; and she just felt drawn to the town.

That was a little over two years ago. Elly’s been in Crownsville pretty much ever since. She’s started making a life for herself here. She’s gotten a job working as a sales associate at Shazam Comics; and she’s also gotten herself a little apartment downtown. And while she often does miss California and her family, she’s started to become really happy in small town Georgia.

When it comes to her CF, she’s always been one to not feel the need to hide it. She’s been like this since she was little; and even now, she doesn’t feel the need to hide. It’s not something she tells everything; but she’s okay with people knowing she’s sick.

Another important thing about Elly is the fact she’s training to hopefully make it on to American Ninja Warrior. She fell in love with the show when she first saw it several years back; and given her hobbies, she’s always felt like she was a good candidate. She has yet to try out; but her plan is to try out this upcoming season.

Recently, however, her health has started to decline. Her lung function is now in the yellow; and it’s really scared her. She’s started to wonder if she should give up on her American Ninja Warrior dream in favor of her health. Her fall back plan is to open her own archery school or maybe get back into acting.

Likes: comic books, superheroes, coffee, sushi, movies, parkour, archery, katanas, tattoos, cosplaying, video games, flannel, hoodies, beanies, combat boots, avocados, star wars, workouts, roses, kingdom hearts, stitch, stuffed animals, british sweets, funkos, motorcycles, skateboarding, jolly ranchers, american ninja warrior, bdsm

Dislikes: hospitals, swimming, cold weather, snow/ice, kale, cats, needles, alcohol, energy drinks, high heels

Misc. Facts

Her parents almost named her Ellis Isla; but they opted not to due to the fact it sounded too close to Ellis Island.

She has 4 blackbelts (karate, taekwondo, jiujitsu, krav maga); so don’t piss her off.

She can swim; but she’s honestly not a fan of water. Despite growing up in California, she doesn’t like the ocean.

She doesn’t like the taste of alcohol; so she doesn’t drink. If you ever see her drinking, she’s probably in a really bad place.

She can do a spot-on impression of Aqua from Kingdom Hearts and a pretty decent impression of Stitch. 

She loves stuffed animals. Her bed is covered in them. Her favorites are Batbear, Stitch, Toad, and a sushi roll with a face. Batbear is like her security blanket.

She does have her driver’s license; but she doesn’t have a car in Crownsville. She has her red Ducati; but Uber is still her preferred mode of transportation. 

She was born a month and a half prematurely. Her due date was February 14th. 

Because of her CF, she has a feeding tube (g-tube) that’s normally hidden under her clothing. She also does several daily treatments (nebulizers, vibrating vest) to combat her symptoms as well as takes pancreatic enzymes before each meal.

She wears a medical ID bracelet that states she has CF and that she’s allergic to latex, penicillin, and prednisone. It’s not noticeable as an ID bracelet unless one really looks at it.

She has saved two people from getting hit by cars by pushing them out of the way and taking their place. The first time, she was 15. The second time, she was 23.

[trigger warning] She is actually unable to have children of her own; but she doesn’t actually know this yet. could be potential plot-line if anyone is ever interested

Wanted Connections

Older Brother  —  This is pretty self explanatory. Elly has an older brother; and this connection is for him. I picture him being roughly ten years older than she is (give or take a few years) and being in Crownsville for reasons UTP. His faceclaim and name are also UTP (though I gotta admit my bias towards Stephen Amell or Colin Donnell FCs). OPEN (0/1)

Father  — Elly’s father is a thriller screenwriter and director by the name of Chandler Munro. I think it might be cool if he showed up in Crownsville for whatever reason. He could be filming a movie in the small town or just coming to catch up with his children. I would like his FC to be John Barrowman; though I am open to discuss others. OPEN (0/1)

Extended Family  — Maybe for some reason, one of Elly’s extended family members (most likely a cousin from England) comes to visit her in Crownsville and ends up staying for awhile. OPEN (0/?)

College Friend  — This connection is for the friend with whom Elly went home for the holidays with one year while attending the University of Miami. This friend lived in Crownsville and is part of the reason Elly lives there now. Everything about this friend is UTP: name, age, gender, faceclaim, etc. I’m not picky; though I would love for them to have stayed friends. TAKEN (1/1)

Childhood Friends  — This is for any friends of Elly’s from back when she lived in Los Angeles. She could’ve known them back in elementary, middle, or high school. They could’ve lost touch and then met up again in Crownsville or stayed friends since they first met. OPEN (0/?)

Roommate — Upon first coming to Crownsville, Elly got herself a decent sized apartment downtown. I would love for her to have a roommate she shares this apartment (and its rent) with. TAKEN (1/1)

Ex-Roommate  — This was a previous roommate of Elly’s. This individual stopped being her roommate for reasons open to discussion. OPEN (0/2)

Ride or Die  — Give me a ride or die bestie for Elly please. I have no preference for gender, age, how they met... Everything would be discussed upon inquiry. I just want her to have that one person she’d do anything for. OPEN (1/2)

Nurse Friend(s)  — Elly is kind of a wild one. With her hobbies and desire to be on American Ninja Warrior, she has quite the tendency to get injured. She could definitely use some friends with medical training to help her out from time to time. OPEN (1/?)

Doctors  — Since Elly has CF, she does spend a good amount of time at doctors offices. This connection would be for any of the doctors who treat her; though I mostly would love to see her pulmonologist. OPEN (0/?)·         

Red Band Society  — This is for anyone else dealing with any type of medical condition. Elly and these individuals have formed a sort of support system for one another. OPEN (1/?)

Ex-Boyfriend(s)  — Again, this is super self explanatory. Elly and this guy (or guys if I decide to make her have more than one ex) used to date. And now they’re not. Why they broke up and all the details of their relationship would be discussed upon inquiry. They could either be total enemies now or still be cordial. OPEN (0/3)

Friends With Benefits — I feel like most of my wanted connections are self explanatory. This is your standard friends with benefits connection and plotline. It could have the potential to turn into something or just stay FWB. OPEN (1/2)

Straight Until Prove Bi  — As of now, Elly identifies as straight; but I am not against her having an experience with another girl. OPEN (0/1)

Future Love Interest  — Self explanatory. At some point in the future, Elly is gonna end up in another relationship. This is mostly open to males; but I would not object to a female if the chemistry was there. OPEN (0/1)

Workout/Sparring Buddies — Elly spends a lot of her free time working out; and it’d be great for her to have someone she can work out with. Whether it be at the gym, while kickboxing, or even while doing parkour, a friend can make a workout so much less boring and routine. OPEN (0/?)

Stylist  — Elly has been very much a tomboy since she was small. This connection would be for the individual in Crownsville who attempts to give her a makeover and make her more “girly”. TAKEN (1/1)

Tattoo Artist  — Elly loves tattoos and is working on obtaining quite the collection. This individual is the one who has done most of hers and is the one she’d go back to when she’s ready to get her next tattoo. OPEN (0/2)

Fans of Chandler Munro — Like stated in her little backstory, Elly’s father (Chandler Munro) is a thriller movie director and screenwriter. I’d like if there was someone who was a big fan of her father’s films and tried to use Elly to get autographs, spoilers of upcoming movies, a small role in an upcoming movie, etc. OPEN (0/?)

General Friends, Frienemies, Co-Workers, Neighbors, etc. 

More to come...

click here for Elly’s stats page

#crownsvilleintro #like this and i'll come to you or #message me for plotting :) #i am super excited to be here!!!

[islandpcosjourney]

Day 27 - Spring ‘21 challenge

10th April 2021

“How good you feel now, could potentially be how good you feel for the rest of your life”

Today’s juices are: My green-for-go go-to smoothie Pineapple, Apples, Pear, Cucumber, Lime, Celery, Spinach, Kale, Courgette, Asparagus, Brussels sprouts blended with Avocado Digestive aid Apples, Carrots, Fennel, Celery, Ginger root

Oh my goodness, Mum has the 2nd gram-crust broccoli quiche cooking in the oven and the smell is driving me wild!

So in yesterday’s post I was relaying info from Jason’s 26th Day video and where to go next. There was so much information that I knew I’d need to space it all out and I’ve re-watched the video so many times now so make sure that I fully understood all of the principles to help me properly transition, as I’ve never done this before. He talked about somebody who went on his retreat for a 2week detox and still craved KFC on their way home that at the airport they gorged on a whole bucket of chicken and subsequently made themselves VERY ill. Of course, the body thought it was being poisoned! Now, I’m in no way planning that kind of attack on food but I’m definitely looking forward to chewing again!

Various options from Monday onwards: 5:2:5 – 5 days juice, 2 days eating low H.I, 5 days juice Using this plan until you reach your weight/health goals. Mix & match the 28-day menu juices (which is pretty much what I was already doing even during this 28-day challenge)

5:2 – 5 days eating low H.I, 2 days juice Using this plan until you reach your weight/health goals, BUT during the 5 days eating, ALWAYS start each morning with a blend. You are breaking your fast, breakfast, so after the elimination cycle overnight, you want to flood the body with the best nutrition possible – a thickie full of goodness to “feed” your cells until 12 noon with LIVE nutrition and you stay afloat and away from cravings and the danger of getting clogged up.

JJM – Juice, Juice, Meal Daily: having a breakfast juice, lunch juice and a meal for dinner. This is what I was doing whenever Kevin was at home, without knowing that it had a “label” as such. It’s been the easiest routine to sustain as it’s so easy to take juice with me to work and come home to a meal. Unfortunately we hadn’t been always having the most nutritious of evening dinners and this is the main reason I think why I was getting all clogged up again and needed the reset. Then at the weekends he says you can do JMM – Juice, Meal, Meal although for us at the weekends, especially a Sunday we only tend to have brunch & dinner.

The law of 4: There will be times when, as we are human beings, we want to indulge/treat ourselves or indeed times when we are caught out somewhere unexpectedly or on the road. Jason has 4 rules that you can stick to, to make sure that you don’t let that cheeky visitor move back in!

1)    Eat only when you’re genuinely hungry – seems obvious doesn’t it? But, more often than not, the hunger that you feel is a fake hunger or a thirst. Also, if you’re filling up on junk food then you’re definitely OVERFED and UNDER NOURISHED so your cells WILL actually be telling you that they need food, because they genuinely do as they’ll be lacking in nutrients, but your stomach is probably full, or you’ve recently had a big meal so how could you possibly be hungry? I did visit this early on in my 28-day challenge where I mentioned that if you open the fridge, saw all the fresh produce and still thought that you had no food in, you’re not hungry. But, that’s something that we’re past now as we’ve done the 21 days which it takes to build up a new habit, we have the momentum, we know and understand the difference between genuine hunger (e.g. tummy rumbling) vs a hunger which is really a craving. Now this next statement is something that definitely will make me re-think food choices.

“Normal foods will satisfy you before, during & after consumption”

How many times have you chosen food with your eyes or nose, eaten it but then felt horrendous afterwards? I have done countless times! Or eaten too much then you feel so full you fall asleep? If the thought of the food makes you excited & the process of eating it brings you pleasure then that food should surely give you a similar output? Not always the case, but it should. You should look forward to it, you love it while you’re eating it AND you love the feeling afterwards, every time.

2)    Eat slowly and consciously – How fast do you eat? Do you ever pause while you’re eating? Know you are eating, see your food, smell your food, be with your food. Most of the causes of obesity relate to “Hoovering” up food like it’s going out of fashion. Our dog hoovers her food, without chewing it practically, it’s gone in seconds, but we know that’s not good for dogs. Special bowls are made to help prevent dogs from eating too fast, so how about us? Taste every mouthful, appreciate every bit, eat in the moment. We’re quite guilty of eating in front of the TV but I know that’s a bad habit and that’s definitely not conscious eating. Eyes staring at the tv, ears listening to the TV, cutlery bringing food up to the mouth, chewing it, then looking down at the plate to find it all gone – sound familiar? Being aware of every bite is the first step to conscious eating.

3)    Use the 20min rule – there’s a Japanese island where they say, “always leave the table still hungry” and they have the lowest rates of weight issues. I don’t understand why we MUST eat as much as we can, or we’re given seconds or thirds and seen as rude if we don’t accept – definitely a cultural thing we’ve lived with! But, after 20mins, our body tells us we’ve had enough. Now if you eat slowly for rule 2, then you won’t consume as much after 20mins and your body will tell you it’s full. I’ve definitely pointed this out to Kevin before where I’ve noticed he’s finished his food in 5-10mins and maybe starting on a second helping when I’m barely through my portion. I am guilty of it too though, I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but I’ve been more aware of it the last couple years. I definitely watch out when I’m out at a restaurant (not these days obvs!) and I don’t want to leave stuffed, so I order a smaller starter or maybe starters instead of mains and eat really slowly so I don’t over-eat.

4)    Keep hydrated – if you consume plenty of high-water content food/juices then you probably won’t need much water separately on top of that. Apparently that 2 litre water “rule” is a big myth, unless of course you consume lots of fats, salts & sugars, become dehydrated and need to counteract it. But, you actually stay MORE hydrated from the high-water content foods that you eat, than drinking water – WOW!

and that’s it! Design my own “diet” according to what suits me best.  Writing this all down has been such a good exercise to “learn” it properly and have something to refer back to.

One thing I will take away from these 28 days is the energy I now have. We’re having an online Harp festival just now as we can’t have a physical one in Edinburgh, but this is a festival I have been a part of for 28 years and like mum, I push myself during it, but I can’t always last as long as even she does during the days. There are late night sessions which can go well into the wee hours and I usually have to bow out. My heart wants to be there, my head wants to be there, but my body has always told me NO. I have pushed myself some nights, when I’ve been leading the sessions, but I’ve been genuinely broken the following day, so I’ve always chosen my days carefully. I was always embarrassed by it, having to make excuses as to why I was leaving and sometimes being there, falling asleep and looking horrendous/tired, which made me feel awful so latterly I would usually decide not to even attend, even for a little while, as I couldn’t handle the pressure of being around folk who didn’t know what I was going through, expected me to play/sing (as I would expect of myself) but I was in no fit state to be able to. It’s been horrible if I think back to all of the years where I could’ve been socialising and building the friendships/networking/putting myself out there, but I simply couldn’t. I said to mum today that although I’ll look forward to a physical festival in years to come for many reasons, the main reason is that I’ll have plenty energy to be able to be me again, a typical young woman in her 30s, to attend the late-night sessions without fear of crashing and having to slip off home quietly. She smiled and I knew......... she completely understood.

[keywestlou]

BORING NEWS TODAY

News today boring. Never thought I would say or write the statement.

I went through my usual news items to select topics for today’s blog. Nothing turned me on. Much news, all dull. I suspect it is because Trump is not dominating the news with his extravagant wild claims and thoughts.

Ergo, I do not want to bore you either. As a result today’s blog will have Day 12 of Greece the First Time and only a couple of items I thought might interest you.

Super Bowl! A big evening ahead.

I have learned in life that a good deed is generally repaid at some point. Even though the person performing the deed expects nothing in return.

Back in the late 1980s, I was Chairman of the Syracuse University Law school Board of Visitors. As such, I was in a position to extend many favors. And I did. The favors generally parents asking me to help get their children into law school or the University itself.

I was successful in each instance. Interestingly out of all I assisted in gaining admittance, only one did not make it. He flunked out.

There were a few instances where I did not know the parents. Whether I knew them or not, I would not offer assistance till I met with a student, reviewed his grades, etc.

I never met the parents of one student I now share with you.

The individual who handled my firm’s pension plan was a Utican and personal friend. He was big time in the pension field. For example, he represented the entire Buffalo Bills with regard to their pension plans.

He visited with me and asked if I could help in the following fashion. The Buffalo Bill’s Vice-President of Marketing had a younger brother who wanted to become an attorney. His college grades were very much on the low side. He also had a drug problem problem at one time.

I helped his brother. I think I talked with the older brother two times on the telephone.

The young man was admitted to Syracuse. Got through. Today is a partner in a major Buffalo law firm.

Beginning with the first Super Bowl game following my obtaining admittance for his brother, the Vice-President sent me two tickets every year to that year’s Super Bowl game. I don’t recall if Buffalo ever played in one.

Every year forever it seemed. The best seats!

My son and I used them every year. My recollection we attended 2 of the Supper Bowl games in New Orleans.

I assume my son now receives the tickets.

His thank you went a step further.

My oldest grandchild Sara graduated from college. She was interested in a marketing position. A request was made to the Vice-President who without an extra breath said don’t worry.

Sara immediately went to work for the Buffalo Bills in Marketing upon graduation. This was some time in the  early 1990s. She is still there.

One good deed deserves another is apparently true.

In glancing through today’s news, I only came up with one item I thought interesting. Concerns sex and coronavirus.

The police recently raided a sex orgy commonly known as a swingers property in the Town of Collegian outside Paris. I label the event a sex orgy because that it is how the newspaper article identified the event.

The party was in a warehouse. Eighty one adults of all ages involved.

All 81 were arrested.

A problem arose as to what the charge should be. A sex arrest apparently was considered too heavy.

Coronavirus was and still is a major problem in France. Curfew the evening of the party was 9 pm. The raid was at 11 pm. Each of the 81 was charged with violation of curfew. Each fined 135 euros.

I suspect many at the event were persons of prominence. Nine were lawmakers from other countries.

France is not alone in breaking curfew in such fashion. Belgium, also. In fact, Belgium has a reputation in Europe for sex parties which the French call “partouges.” Belgium apparently is the country to visit for a sex party.

A small party. Only 52. A birthday party.

The party was held in a town 2 minutes from the French border. The party house was located next to a COVID clinic.

I know nothing useless about the event. Who was present, charges if any, etc.

Brussels recently had a party also. This one limited to the male sex. Twenty five involved.

I know nothing about the arrests, charges, disposition of the cases, etc.

One thing the media did carry however is that one of the participants was an MEP member. Hungary’s Jozel Szajer. He was caught bare ass going out a back window. He resigned his official position a few days later bcause of “ill health.”

Coronavirus comes into play. I assume swingers do not wear masks and do social distance. Virus infections have to be off the wall.

Thus far, France has had 3.3 million cases of coronavirus. From that number, 78,000 have died.

Belgium has Europe’s worst COVID-19 infection rate. Note the use of the term “rate.” Additional information showed Belgium to have 720,000 cases with 21,000 dead.

I label these sex orgies/swinging parties pure insanity. These are the days when coronavirus is easily acquired. How can these people not consider the danger involved.

Recall when AIDS came upon the scene. Social sex suffered an immediate death.

I am certain the Super Bowl parties last night and tonight following the game in New Orleans will violate all protective rules. New Orleans a great party town at Super Bowl time. Remember, I was there twice.

Huge clubs. People dancing shoulder to shoulder. Bodies pressed  together at huge bars while people drank. Even the bathrooms a danger zone. Men and women facilitates meant nothing. Both sexes will fill the facilities together. Drugs will be rampant.

Louisiana’s numbers a month from now will be interesting. There has to be a significant rise in numbers of those infected. As will the communities from which persons came when their residents return home.

No one seems to care.

DAY 12…..Greece the First Time

Posted on June 8, 2012 by Key West Lou

I took a walk yesterday morning. Not sure why. I really did not need the exercise. With all the steps and hills here, I am exercising constantly.

I guess I was in the mood to explore.

I went to the donkey trail. The one I spoke about yesterday. Five hundred plus steps. Side of a mountain. This time I went close.

It stunk! Big time! Of donkey urine and shit! Who would want to ride a donkey surrounded by such a stench!

As I arrived at the start, I saw a bunch of women walking up the donkey path. Beside the donkey excretions, the path is loaded with all size rocks and dirt. Not the best place from my perspective to exercise.

As soon as they reached the top, the ladies turned around and started back down.

One of them did not. I went over to speak with her. What are you ladies doing? Turns out they exercise there every morning. They walk up and down the donkey path. How many times? Till we get tired! What about the stink? We try to stay ahead of it. Why do you do it? It is 2,000 feet up and 2,000 feet down. To keep thin. But you all look thin. Oh no, she said. Look at my belly. I eat too much and have to do this.

Female vanity!

As I was walking back to my cave accommodation along the road, a small car drove up fast. Parked on the side with the ass end of the vehicle butting out into a narrow heavily traveled road. The windows were closed. The driver got out and walked away. He obviously was looking for someone. Three or four minutes later he returned. With a wife or girl friend. Saw them come around the corner of a building. They got into the car and drove off. Sitting in the back in a car seat was a baby less than one year old.

I rented a car. Finally. Wanted to see more of the island.

A Fiat. Small. Clutch/shift. I learned on one so no problem.

I was off to Red Beach. To see the topless and totally bare women!

Santorini is a strange place to rent a car. The gas tank is empty when you pick the car up. The nearest gas station miles away. The rental place puts two liters of gasoline into the car. From two used water bottles. Then tells me it will get me to the gas station…..sometimes it is closed…..you may have a problem.

What the hell!

Off I went. As I drove, I thought what a thief. People return rented cars with gas left in the tank. He must be siphoning it out and reselling it to gas stations. After first filling some empty water bottles, of course.

I made it to the gas station. It was open.

Greek gas stations still pump your gas. They should for what it costs!

You buy by the euro. Big shot me asked for 30 euro. Gasoline is $12 American money a gallon here. Thirty euro got me 3 1/2 gallons. Not even a half a tank.

Gasoline is gold!

I will never complain in the US again about the price of gasoline. $4 a gallon would be considered a bargain, a steal, here.

My goal was Red Beach. The place for nudity.

I got lost of course. Finally found it by just driving roads that seemed to go in the direction I thought the beach was. A one half hour drive took me an hour and a half. Don’t say I should have looked at the signs. Good luck! The signs were all in Greek.

I did not mind. I got to see other parts of the island. No other part compares to Oia, I learned. Oia is heaven, not Santorini itself.

The roads suck. Driving an experience. Very narrow two lane roads. Curves frequently. Sharp curves. None gradual as in the US. The curves come up and are just there. Some very tight turns. Like the curve in a hairpin. Buses dominate. They drive 2 feet over into your lane. There is no parking on the roads. People park on the roads anyhow. Tightens the road up a bit.

All I could think of was Greece is a country that built the cave dwelling I am living in, Acropolis and the Parthenon. Why couldn’t it build better roads?

I finally ended up at Red Beach. When I stopped the car, I knew it had to be Red Beach. I was at the end of the island. The only place else I could drive was into the sea.

I had a little difficulty locating Red Beach itself. Had to walk up a relatively small mountain. Over a dirt rocky path. When I thought the water was feet away, it was not. I had merely reached the top of the knoll. As I looked down, I could see Red Beach about a quarter of a mile away.

Red Beach so called because it is lava created. A high black lava mountain surrounds it on three sides. A black beach. Black water. From the volcano eruption 3,500 years ago. Why called Red then? Because there are spottings of red on the mountain wall, beaches and in the water. Where it came from, what it is, I never found out.

My concern was how to get to the beach. Then I saw it. A narrow three foot path running around the center of the lava mountain. About mid way up. No wall. The lava mountain on one side of you and a sharp fall the other. Not for me. I opted to leave, never got to Red Beach itself. Never saw bare breasted or bare assed women. I did not care. My personal safety overcame my perversions. I am getting old.

I spent the balance of the afternoon sitting under an umbrella by the pool. Overlooking the Aegean Sea. The view spectacular.

In Key West, visitors are constantly told to walk down any street. Never know what will be found. A Seven Fish. Michael’s Restaurant. a coffee house. a corner store with great Cuban toast, a cute art gallery. Whatever.

I got off the beaten path last night. Walked down a side street. Actually an alley. I saw a bit of light in the distance. A bar, a restaurant? Down the alley I went. There it was. The Argonaut Restaurant. A taverna. Small.

A locals place. They all stared at this obvious tourist as I walked in.

A great place! The best food! Made a ton of new friends!

The tables were small carpenter work horses. A thick 4 inch slab of wood on top. Seats were small barrels with a pad to sit on.

I had a delicious sausage. Several meats. More about the sausage I cannot tell you. Fried potatoes and a salad. Stuffed wine leaves to start. Two gins. For desert that Greek specialty. I forget the name. Baklava, I think. A flaky cake buried in honey. Topped by a double espresso. The whole bill was 19 euros. About $24 American money.

I shall return!

I walked the marble walkway behind the cave apartments on the way home. The path runs on top of the caves. Great stores and restaurants along the way. It was 11 in the evening. My walk about 1/2 mile. I saw a total of 7 people.

There is no night life in Oia. At least not that I have discovered.

I spoke this morning with Nikos. Where were the people? A bad year so far, he said. People are not traveling. The economy once again. The euro problem.

Key West three years ago. But not as bad.

Another example of the poor economy. Having decided to leave Red Beach, I was thirsty. I saw a bar near where my car was parked. I walked over. What appeared to be the proprietor was seated on the porch. Water? No water. Soda. No soda. Beer? No beer. Gin? No gin. So the conversation went. I looked at him as if to say….Come on, this is a bar. He looked at me as if he could read my mind and said…..No business, out of business. He had owned and operated the place for 32 years. He had to recently close. The euro problem. No business.

I seem to make friends easily on this trip. I have a few coffee buddies. I stop by a small coffee place a couple of times a day to chat with them. We have arrived. We can understand each other. Though neither speaks the other’s language.

Santorini and the Greek Isles are mere dots on the map. Of no significant size. Perhaps of no significance. Its inhabitants simple folk. Have been here their whole lives as their ancestors before them. They do not know life as we do.

I had sensed that people here did not understand what a blog was. Even when explained, it was Greek to them. Christina the beauty parlor owner, Nikos the cave hotel owner. They smile and look at you blankly when you speak of blogs. The same reaction with my espresso drinking friends.

Most people here work to eat. What they earn goes for food and a roof over their heads. They know nothing of pensions. They will work till the day they die.

Different.

Enjoy your day!

BORING NEWS TODAY was originally published on Key West Lou

[cherik-prompt]

Wonder Woman AU (Part 2)

Charles tailed the Amazons escorting Erik. He did not know how he felt about Erik - on one hand, Erik had saved his life from the invaders. On the other, Erik was the one who had led them to Themyscira in the first place and caused the death of Antiope. Either way, Charles wanted to be there while the Amazons questioned him.

Erik eyed the lasso as one guard tied it to him and recoiled as it started to glow. Once everyone had quieted, Hippolyta stepped forward.

“What is your name?”

“Erik…” He strained a little, the lasso growing slightly brighter. “Lehnsherr. I’m a pilot for the Brits.”

“Why do you wear the same clothes as the invaders?”

“I am…” Erik clenched his fists. “I am a spy. I was assigned to impersonate a German military pilot. I was born in Germany, so I was the best man for the job.” Charles smiled a little, but it faded as Erik went on to explain his predicament involving Doctor Poison’s journal. “It could stop the war.”

“War?” Charles blurted out, “What war?”

“The… the War,” Erik looked appalled. “The war to end all wars? Four years, twenty-seven countries, 25 million dead. Innocent people.”

Erik explained more, and then it dawned on Charles: “Ares.”

“Charles,” Hippolyta scolded. He fell silent as she continued.

After the interrogation, Charles confronted his mother. “Excuse me, but after everything he’s said, it must be Ares!”

Another woman asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Forgive me, Senator,” Charles turned to her. “But the man called it a war without end. Millions of people already dead. Like nothing he’s ever seen. Only Ares could do such a thing.” A few Amazons frowned, others nodded. “We can not simply let him go, we must go with him!”

“I will not deploy our army to go fight their war,” Hippolyta said stiffly.

“It’s not their war! Ares is corrupting them!” Charles’s voice rose. “As Amazons it is our duty to stop the god of war.”

“But you’re not an Amazon like the rest of us!” She snapped. Charles was taken aback. Hippolyta readjusted herself. “So you will do nothing. As your queen I forbid it.”

Charles excused himself and left the Amazons. He wandered until he found a balcony with a nice view.

“You are not an Amazon like the rest of us.”

The words rang in Charles’s ears. He had thought they were past this. With tears in his eyes, he remembered the last time Hippolyta had said this…

~~~~~

“Mother, may I speak to you alone?”

“Diana, I am in the middle of a meeting with the Senate. can it wait?”

“N-no, I wish to talk now.”

“Well, whatever you have to say you can say to all of us.”

“Well… okay. I… I wish not to be a woman.”

“…I beg your pardon?”

“I do not feel like a woman. When I look at myself, I see a man.”

“…”

“Mother?”

“You do realize that Amazons are women, not men, correct?”

“I do. But… I could never be happy if I lived as someone who I was not.”

“…Very well. I accept that you are a man. Is there another name you wish to be called?”

“Charles… So, what will become of me as a man?”

“The Senate and I will discuss it. You are dismissed.”

Charles left the room and  stayed at the door to eavesdrop. He was indescribably relieved that his mother had not objected to his request, but he had no idea what they would decide.

“My queen?”

“Obviously we cannot send him away from the island.”

“Of course.”

“And you know him, he’s wanted to battle since he first saw us training.”

“We’ll never be able to stop him from trying. We might as well help prepare him.”

“But we are only women! He cannot be an Amazon.”

“I propose a compromise.” Charles’s heart lifted at the sound of his aunt’s voice. “He can be a man who fights alongside the Amazons.”

“Seconded. We shall continue his training.”

“Charles, you may return.”

“Yes, mother?”

“You are family to all of us and will remain here. You will continue your training, but not as an Amazon. You shall be a man fighting alongside us. Understood?”

“Yes. Thank you,” Charles took a small bow and fled from the room.

He was almost out of earshot when he heard his mother say, “He will never be an Amazon like the rest of us.”

~~~~~

Charles picked a flower from a plant climbing up the building next to him. His gauntlets glinted in the sunlight. What had happened at training earlier? All that energy felt like it had come from… him. But that couldn’t happen, right?

“She didn’t mean it like that,” said a voice behind Charles.

He didn’t jump. “Hello, Melanippe.” He tore up the flower and let it fall down the cliff.

“Hippolyta is just worried about you,” she said, leaning on the ledge next to him. “She didn’t mean ill. You are her son, and she wants you to be safe.”

“She’s only said that once before, and it wasn’t about keeping me safe.”

“Well it is this time,” Melanippe pointed to Charles’s arm, which was wrapped in a bloody makeshift bandage.. “You should get that wound cleaned.”

“Alright,” He turned around, trudging towards the medic.

“Oh, and also,” Charles looked back to see Melanippe wink. “I hear they’ve allowed the prisoner to bathe.”

Charles smiled and ran on his way. The baths were right near the medic’s station.

~~~~~

Erik examined the surface of the water. Did everything in this paradise glow? Perhaps it made up for the lack of any electric lights. Seriously, why did an entire island have no technology past that of ancient Greece?

With a start Erik realized he was not alone. Charles was standing in the doorway. Was it a doorway if it was just a cave formation? Erik stood halfway up in surprise before he stopped himself, remembering he was naked.

“Erm… Can I help you?”

Charles surveyed him. “I wanted to know… Are you an accurate representation of your sex?”

Erik considered this. Formalities aside, he answered, “I am… above average… I suppose.”

Charles walked a bit further into the cave. “What is that?” He asked, pointing vaguely in front of him.

“Er…” Then Erik realized what it was he was looking at. “Oh, that’s my watch.”

“Watch?”

“Yeah… You know, watch? Tells time? So I know when to be places.”

“You let this little thing govern your life?” Charles smirked.

“No, but…” Erik chuckled a little. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Erik took a deep breath. “Who are you? Why don’t you know what a watch is? How do you speak English? Why are you the only man on the island?”

Charles looked flattered. “This is Themyscira, home of the Amazons. Zeus created this place before he died to protect the Amazons. We are the bridge to a greater understanding and know hundreds of languages. As to why I am the only man… I was born and raised here, so I could not leave.”

“How were you born if you’re the only man?”

“My mother sculpted me from clay and Zeus brought me to life.”

“Right. But… If Amazons are only women, why would your mother sculpt a boy?”

“I, erm… She didn’t sculpt a boy. She sculpted a girl.”

“Oh,” Erik looked down and used the awkward silence to put on some pants and a shirt.

“So,” He began once he was done. “Why’d you come down here?”

Charles sighed. “I believe that this war you are fighting was brought about by Ares, who the Amazons are meant to defeat.”

“Ares,” Erik furrowed his brow. “The god of war?”

“Yes. My mother forbids me to do anything, but I believe it is necessary to interfere.”

“And… How do you plan on doing that?”

“I will help you escape,” Charles voiced the plan he had been formulating up to that point. “And you will take me to the war.”

Erik considered this. Charles was quite capable in a fight, he knew that for sure. Then again, he also believed in Zeus, Ares, and all the other Greek gods. Although, that lasso they’d tied around him had mentally pushed him to tell the truth, and that glowing water was definitely not natural. Maybe these Amazons were onto something.

“Alright. Where do we start?”

“You will stay here. I’ll break into the vault and steal the Godkiller, the lasso of truth, a shield, and some better armor.” Then Charles left.

Erik wasn’t too pleased about sitting around and waiting, but he supposed someone with years of training with the Amazons would be more capable than him. In the absence of anything else to do, his mind wandered to the tight armor Charles was wearing, and his small but toned muscles… Erik shook himself out of his thoughts and gathered his things.

~~~~~

Charles looked over the ravine separating him and his goal. It was a reasonable distance, but he could probably make it. Just in case, he turned around and jumped the other way, about the same length. Smiling, he returned to the cliff and leaped onto the building. He caught hold of a brick sticking out with one hand.

As he was reveling in his feat, Charles lost his grip. He scraped the wall wildly until he caught hold… by punching a hole in it. He was surprised but pleased, and bashed another hole. Slowly he made his way up the building, leaving a trail of smashed bricks below him.

Finally, Charles reached the top. He grabbed the shield, sword, and lasso from their stands. He saw the red, blue, and gold peeking out at him from behind a wall and couldn’t resist. He grabbed it,  took it to the forge to fit it to his dimensions, and put it on.

When he arrived back at the cave in his cloak, Erik was ready to go. Charles mounted his horse and handed Erik the bridle for the other, then set off for the docks. Unfortunately, their departure had not gone unnoticed. Hippolyta and a couple of her henchman arrived shortly after Erik had started getting the boat ready to sail.

“I am going, mother.” Charles drew himself up to his full height, trying to look confident. “I cannot stand by while innocent lives are lost. If no one else will defend the world from Ares, then I must.”

Hippolyta looked sad, but she smiled. “I know. Or at least I know I cannot stop you. There is so much… So much you do not understand.”

“I understand enough. I am willing to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.”

“You know that if you choose to leave… You may never return.”

“This is not a decision, mother. It is who I am. I cannot stay.”

Hippolyta took Antiope’s headband from a pocket. “Make sure you’re worthy of this.”

“I will,” Charles took it and turned to board the boat. He waved as the Themyscira faded into the distance.

#cherik #cherik fanfic #wonder woman #my fanfic #trans!charles

[sapphirestream]

So I’ve been watching Thrilling Intent and I just need to get a rant out or I’m going to stay mad at Gregor forever. I know that’s not a valid solution because he’s a lovable character most of the time and he sticks around and needs to be forgiven if I still want to continue to enjoy watching the show. I don’t really trust the formatting to give the issue space to breath and be properly addressed rather than just falling into the background due to the serialized nature, so I’m going to get out all my feelings here and hopefully get some catharsis doing so.  I WILL acknowledge that I am a bit biased, because Ashe is my favorite character so far, and she’s the one who has the most conflict with Gregor on these issues. I still think I would hold these same opinions if the positions were flipped though. The first big conflict between Ashe and Gregor was, of course, the Charoth issue. At first, I agreed with Gregor’s stance. “Cool motive, still murder” and all that. And sometimes the only option to stop the killing IS to slay the monster even if it is hungry or just being itself.  And if regular slaying would have done anything, I would have agreed that it was the right thing to do, especially since we couldn’t fully gauge Charoth’s mental state at the time and had no way to know of its childlike understanding of the world. 

HOWEVER. However. Killing Charoth would not have done anything productive, and the only way to permanently slay it was to destroy it’s literally immortal soul. Just on an ethical level, that is a step so extreme it SHOULD be a last resort, as Markus stated. Even with all the monsters and even people they have killed before, this is not a step that they had taken. It is striking it beyond all chance of redemption, even after a complete wipe of identity. Other methods should be tried before it, even if they don’t ‘punish’ the creature for its wrongdoings or are risky. Fighting it is risky anyway. You don’t slay a creature because you want to punish them, you slay them to STOP them. Ideally, in the real world you relocate them before they hurt somebody, but even if a bear or something is put down, it's because you can’t control the risk, not because the bear is inherently evil and need to be punished for its sins. The goal is to STOP the monster, not get vengeance for those lost.  It also bothers me on a practical level as well. Gregor did have a point that this could lead to future troubles if something happens to Ashe, but honestly, it was the option that mitigated the consequences the most. Especially after they had already talked him down! Kylil even said she had experience coaxing spirit folk back from their wispy state, and Charoth had an entire island to socialize with now that he wasn’t locked in the temple by a short-sighted father figure. Even before they decided to set up shop in the Nine Shrines bar, Charoth had the beginnings of a loving childhood and a budding support network to help him work through his grief. Also, if you ever wanted justice or remorse for those who died, this would be the only option. Charoth will eventually have to face what he did during these times, but if you kill him he will truly be a new person. Some of the spirit folk will surely still blame him and be scared of him, but as it is now he has the framework to deal with that guilt and would deserve it. He could come to regret what he did during this time and work through that fear and try to earn forgiveness, rather than being unfairly blamed for a previous incarnation. If he has to grow up surrounded by fear for something he no longer is responsible for, that can only breed resentment rather than healing.  Killing him would have only put the danger off into the future, and erased whatever ground they had gained. He MIGHT have been ok, if Kylil had still taken a hand in his raising and the spirit folk had a good handle on separating out previous incarnation’s misdeeds. But you would have erased whatever good work and morals his father had managed to instill in him for twenty years. And he certainly would no longer have any love for humans and would take his cue of humanity from the clearly biased (rightly so! they’ve been burned before and we can be pretty awful) spirit folk. No way would Ashe have wanted to stick around on the island after that (nor would I blame her considering her backstory), so Charoth would have grown up with no human influence at all. Which doesn’t sound too great for humanity later, does it, if later it decides to continue wrecking ships, this time on behalf of the spirit folk? They might not have the temperament to do so, but Charoth would certainly have no qualms about it if they asked him in this scenario. This would not have helped the spirit folks goodwill toward humanity either, ESPECIALLY if Gregor had killed Charoth after a peaceful solution had been reached.  And destroying him utterly? Besides it being the most morally dubious way to go, it would also have potentially the worst consequences! Charoth is a GOD. He is the line between life and death! What happens when you erase that!? Does anyone even know? BEST CASE you just get a new one forming anyway, with an entirely unknown temperament. Alternatively, everyone could be stuck on the island forever, metaphysics fucked from the missing death god. There’s no saying that death itself wouldn’t be royally fucked in the localized area, and we already saw that even just Charoth stoppering it was causing problems. That’s not even mentioning if an unfriendly death god neighbor saw that the Shrouded Isles were undefended and decided to take over! This is only an option if you care about no one and nothing on the island, because this fucks them over hard. This is NOT a good deed, nor does it save anyone but humans. The party would just be one in a long line of people who have screwed over the natives and left them the worse for wear.   Legen’s Eye is actually what prompted this rant, as I had to take a break after watching the conclusion of Wizard Highschool. I have a lot less to say about it because it’s been percolating in my mind for a lot less long, but it was HIGHLY frustrating to watch Gregor shut down all discussion and go straight for destroying it. I’m still not sure whether they should have kept the artifact, but they CERTAINLY should have had a thorough talk about it without Inian and taken more than two seconds to decide. Inian should have been excluded not because she wasn’t part of the group or whatever, but because she was *actively shutting down discussion as well* If she had been willing to sit down and actually talk through everything then I would have been fine with her participating. If they felt that strongly in their convictions, they should have trusted them to shine through and convince the others. The group honestly probably would not have been able to put it to good use, but even if they had shoved it in a corner and let no one know they had it, it would have been a better option. Even setting aside if more magic would be better for equality, you never know if humanity+ is going to face some kind of natural or supernatural disaster down the line where that artifact could make a difference. You can never un-destroy something, and that's a decision that should at least have been talked about rather than decided by one person. They talk about not having the right to make those kinds of decisions, but they made a decision not just against their own party, but humanities(+) entire future, and banked against them EVER figuring out a way to use it wisely, or even the possibility of the necessity of its use.  As an example, I once had a dnd game where the players went into a timestop for hundreds of years and emerged in a world overrun by demons. The gates of hell had busted open and there was a war between the celestial and hellish planes with humanity being the unfortunate battleground.  Do they think such things are impossible? Do they think cataclysmic events will never happen where something like Legen’s Eye could make a difference in the material plane’s survival? No, it might not be the answer to all the world’s social ills, nothing simple will be. There is no magic bullet for our own weakness and greed. But this is the kind of artifact that should have been entrusted to future generations, as an ace in the hole if nothing else.  Overall I am just extremely disappointed in Gregor’s unwillingness to talk things out and his black and white thinking. I know it comes with the territory of a Lawful Good character, and kudos to his player for a doing a good job with him, but damn is it frustrating to watch. This show is so good and so investing that I just want to reach into the screen and argue my own viewpoints with the characters, and I’m glad they cover these hard issues that other shows would skip over entirely. I really appreciate how willing they are to tackle things like this, and we wouldn’t even have had a discussion without varying viewpoints. I know Gregor’s in the hard spot of being devil’s advocate a lot of the time. (ironically it’s not Markus! Isn't he a Demon AND a ‘lawyer’?). Still. Still. I guess the counterpoint to being so invested and tackling hard moral issues is sometimes your viewers are just going to have to go rant on social media to get in their own two cents. God damn do I need a friend who watches this show. 

#Thrilling Intent #Charoth #Legen's eye #Gregor Hartway #Aesling #Hit me up if you want to talk about this #though I would ask kindly for no spoilers #I wish I could convince one of my friends to watch this show too #But I think I used up a lot of my cred on Higurashi #Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it #and then I remember their face and think ah yes it was lol #(also a lot of my nerdy interests just don't align with the person most likely to actually take me up on media suggestions) #(they didnt even like fma what the heck)

[alovethattasteslikestarving-blog]

27.09.2017

So, it’s been radio silence. I haven’t posted anything here, I haven’t written anything in my diary for almost a month, and I’ve neglected my friends [on the net, and in my personal life].

It’s been… a month. But I’m back, maybe not better than ever, but back, and thinking positive thoughts.

[trigger warning for personal account of depression/anxiety, if those themes are upsetting to you I would suggest unfollowing this blog].

When I created this blog I was in a good space, I was considering my goals, making plans for the future, and takings positive steps to achieve those ends. I planned to use the blog as an outlet, a tool with which I could exorcise some of the negativity I brewing in my mind and gut, and channel it into the anonymous abyss of the internet, instead of my material life. I don’t know if that is a good thing to do, but I felt like it was helpful at the time.

It worked! For about two weeks I felt really good, I was eating properly, sleeping [maybe not well, but at the right times], interacting with other people, and going to work on time with a decent attitude.

And then it stopped. Why? I’m not exactly sure, a big part of my mental shit is that is reduces my short term memory, all sense of time becomes an uncertain, fuzzy thing, to be pondered over. When I was a child my memory was clear as crystal, now, thinking about what I did yesterday is like wading through waist-deep mud. Maybe you’ve been there, or maybe your mental shit manifests itself in different ways. I read online that it’s a unique experience for everyone, even despite the fact that so many of us are going through the same things.

What else? I said I would be brutally honest when I started this blog. It holds me accountable. In a few years I want to look back at this post and be glad I’m not in the hole I was in last week and now. So, Ellery of the future, here is a glimpse, and I wish to the universe you’ve improved on it.

Think of your room in the old convent, think of the sandflies and the kingdom of dirty dishes scattered across your carpet around which they revolve. Think of the rancid smell, food rotting, death. Think of the tremor in your voice as you tell your mother that you are ‘doing fine, really good’, think of the ache in your throat and the pit in your gut, think of how your eyes burn with unshed tears, for no reason at all. Look at your calendar on the floor, when you were in a better mood it was full of dates and crossed out ‘to-dos’. You haven’t written in it for a week, and you have three assignments due soon. That burns you, inspires a debilitating concoction of guilt, shame, ambition, and nerves that do nothing to make you move to your desk and begin any of them. Why can’t you stand? Even you don’t know. You have spent three days in this bed, a drooled on island in a sea of waste. The blinds are drawn and your door is locked. If you killed yourself now no one would find you for days. And when they did? A stiff corpse, bloated and blue, a trail of spit or vomit or whatever speckling the lips and chin. 

You won’t do it, if only because your room is messy.

It comes to a head. You wake one Tuesday morning, with three essays due and a shift at work approaching. How can you do it all? You don’t. You prolong the inevitable and the effort, scrolling through drivel on the internet. Lazy. The time for work comes. You put on your uniform, and go back to bed. There is self-loathing, and eventually a panic attack. Has anyone ever looked as pathetic as you do now? Curled up in a pile of your dirty laundry, sobbing wretchedly, silent as you can.

Only two days ago did you receive feedback for an essay you wrote. You were proud of it, which is why you entered it into a competition in the first place. It was about mental illness. It was formal, and non-fiction.

‘Be careful not to glamorise or fetishise’ they said. ‘Make sure you are the right person to write this piece, have you experienced depression, are you depicting it accurately?’

It’s almost funny now. What they said about your essay. But fuck them.

Sometimes my depression has to be a friend. If it weren’t, I would spend the rest of my days living with someone I don’t get along with. And so, self sabotage!!

I do not attend work that day, and I do not call in to notify my manager of my absence. I can’t. Or at least, I feel like I can’t. As for the essays? No. They will not be happening today either. I look at the extension application form, which states that extensions can only be granted in the case of ‘serious circumstances’.

What the hell are they? Is this serious? Or am I a fraud?

I’m not a fraud; who the hell does this to themselves for fun?

In the end I call my mother. She lives far away because of her job, in a desert, but is coming home this weekend to visit my dad and brother. The airport is near my accommodation. She will pick me up. And book a doctors appointment. And help me make a budget. And ‘put your clothes in a bag dear, we can wash them at home’. And I love you.

I am supposed to be more resilient than this. My mother is too kind to me. Loves me too much.

We go home and I sleep in my childhood blankets and hope that I won’t wake up. Which is more passive than suicide, but just like me.

Basically, not such a great time. Not such a bad time. I saw the doctor, and in the end things turned out fine. She wrote me a medical certificate and booked another appointment to sort out drugs. In the past I have been very opposed to going onto any sort of anti-depressant, but I’m at a point now where I will try anything. I used to be very scared about losing my personality, or inhibitions, or even my ability to have an orgasm [which is not as important as my mental health I suppose, but cool I guess]. Other things: people on anti-depressants are more likely to have autistic children [is this true? I will ask the doctor], and weight gain [fuck my entire life].

What else? I went back to work but no one said anything about the shift I missed. I’ve had three since then and nothing. So I’m off the hook? No verbal reprimand? First day back wasn’t so great though. I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before for fear of being fired and when I asked a lady to show me her receipt she got really angry at me because she thought I was accusing her of stealing. In the end there was a huge verbal dressing down, in which she called me the rudest person she had ever met and threatened to speak with the manager. I apologised quickly. I felt too overwhelmed. It had not been my intention at all to ‘hurt her’. I was glad when she left, but she came back ten minutes later to show me her receipt. She interrupted the customer I was serving to thrust it in my face and ask me to apologise to her again.

I did. Profusely. It felt so bad, the things she was saying about me. Every time I tried to explain that it was work-place procedure she became crosser, until eventually I knew the only way to get rid of her was to simply apologise again. I made a fool of myself. But she didn’t go to the manager. So winning, I guess?

Work is fun.

Ellery of the future, how about this? 


You can’t leave your room. Because you are too scared of interacting with the people in your building, which means you can’t use the kitchen or the bathrooms. This is why you only eat crappy, pre-made food that seems to shrivel your guts and put you in a fever [all the sugar, oh god].

And you can’t tell you parents, because they still pay your rent and you don’t want to seem ungrateful. 


[sorry to anyone still reading, who thinks this is bleak, and complaining, I want my future self to be aware of how shit this point was, and never return to it].

I will see the doctor again on Friday. Maybe she will give me something hopeful. 

We will see. Right now I feel better about things, writing it all out like this is helpful.

To anyone experiencing similar things, or who just wants to talk, feel free to message me. If you don’t want to message me, or another internet friend, there are a lot of online resources to help you reach out. When I am doing really badly the BeyondBlue chatroom is pretty helpful, they have trained counsellors who you can message, and often it helps with perspective. Stay safe everyone.

All the love,

Ellery.

#mine #september #2017 #journal #x #depression #anxiety

[annequinox]

Traveling With a Lonely Immortal

Part 1/? [part 2] [part 3] Pairing: Zeref and Lucy Rating: T Word count: 3,920 Status: Ongoing A/N: This is a one-shot that will be divided into two or three parts, since it might be too long of a read if I just smash it into one. This is for that anon who asked for a Zeref and Lucy story, so here you go! :) I hope you like the first part :D 

Summary: When Lucy is given a chance to save her mother, she takes it, unbeknownst to her that the cost will be leaving the Heartfilia family forever. In addition to that, she has to spend the rest of her life with the most evil mage of all time and accompany him until her last breath.

The mansion of the Heartfilias was cold and void of laughter. Where it was once a place full of music and joy, the house had lapsed into darkness, grieving for the mother that had fallen ill, a step away from death. Every well-known doctor had already came to visit, but none could heal her. It was a curse that was upon her—a curse that only the greatest mage could lift.

But the greatest mage was nowhere to be found. To be exact, no one knew where Zeref was. He was good at hiding and no one dared to search for him. Even those loyal to the Heartfilias couldn’t bear to risk their lives to ask him for a cure. Except for one.

Beside the bed where Layla Heartfilia lied, sat her daughter Lucy. She had just turned fifteen this year and she was looking more and more like her mother each day.

“Mom?” she whispered, bringing a hand to brush away the strands of hair from Layla’s face. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, Lucy?”

She bit her lip. “When will you get better?”

“I…” Layla paused, eyes clouding with anguish. “Soon, sweetheart. Soon.”

Lucy frowned. She didn’t tell her that she didn’t believe her, but she bid her mother goodnight and left the room. Her heartbeat picked up and she was on edge. She knew her mother would never get better. She heard her father tell that to the head maid. Truthfully, she could see it herself.

Death. It was written all over Layla’s face. It was looming over her like a shadow, sucking away at her soul and leaving none of it behind. She didn’t have much time left. A year, at most. Maybe even less.

Breathing heavy, Lucy turned to her room. She knew how to heal her, she just didn’t know where to find him. But if there was one thing Lucy had that everyone else didn’t, that was courage. She was going to find Zeref and ask him to heal her mother. Even if she had to beg, she will. She would do anything.

Her mind set, she packed her things before she could change her mind. She brought only little—a map, money, her keys, her whip, two sets of clothing, toiletries and her mother’s necklace.

She was fifteen. But she was braver than everyone else she knew.

And this was how their story began.

旅

It was warm in Magnolia, something she did not predict. Sweating in her coat and pants, she stopped by an inn to rest for the night. It was only two days ago when she left home. So far, she wasn’t caught yet. She was wondering if she had made the right decision, but then again, they couldn’t stop her now.

She stripped off her coat and sweater. The weather was too warm for her choice of clothing, and she had never been outside the Heartfilia Konzern so she didn’t know what it would be like outside. Wiping away the sweat on her neck and temples, she took her purse and headed out to shop for summer clothing.

The town was nice. She liked the river crossing in between the buildings, and she found herself walking on the edge. The people were polite and kind, offering her directions when she was getting lost. If she wasn’t on a quest to search for Zeref, maybe she would even stay here. There was a guild here that she would love to join—Fairy Tail. It was the strongest guild in Fiore. Perhaps, if the circumstances were different, she would be a mage there.

Smiling sadly to herself, she shook her head. It wasn’t the time to think about the “what ifs”. She had to find Zeref and save her mother.

Lucy found a cozy little shop that sold clothes at a cheap price. She bought herself one shirt, a tank top, a mini skirt and shorts. She didn’t know if this would all fit in her tiny bag, so she also made the decision to buy a bigger one. It fit her back, and it didn’t seem too heavy.

Content with her cart, she paid for everything and left to return to her inn. On her way out, she bumped into a pink-haired boy and a blue cat.

“Ow,” she groaned, rubbing her butt where she had fallen.

“Sorry ‘bout that!”

She looked up and squinted her eyes, trying to get a better look at the boy that was offering his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her up.

“Hey, you look new!” he said, grinning. “I’m Natsu, and this is my cat, Happy!”

The cat spun in the air. It had wings. “Aye sir!”

“Lucy,” she muttered, looking at Happy while she picked up her belongings.

“What? Did you say your name’s Luigi?” Natsu asked, blinking wildly. “Nice to meet you, Luigi!”

Lucy’s eye twitched and she swallowed thickly, thinking that she should leave now. “Sure… I have to go now.”

“Aw, come on! We just met, how about buying me lunch?”

“No thanks.”

“Please?”

“I’m broke,” she lied, walking away from the duo hurriedly. She couldn’t be distracted, she had limited money and she couldn’t waste them on some… some pink-haired weirdo.

Natsu huffed and crossed his arms. “Fine then! See you around, Luigi!”

Lucy didn’t say anything in return, but in her head, she thought she may have said something nice if she had the time to. Maybe.

旅

She heard from one of the dark guilds that Zeref had been spotted in Bosco, so that was her next destination after Clover Town. It was proving hard to travel via train all the time, so at the moment, she was taking jobs to save up for a Magical Vehicle—a four wheel vehicle, to be exact. It was going to save a lot of money and time.

Home was so faraway now. Lucy admitted that sometimes she felt lonely, traveling alone. But the thought of going home, her mother welcoming her with open arms, gave her hope and motivation to continue. She didn’t know if she could actually find Zeref. She didn’t really think this through. However, if the gods were with her and if the heavens loved her as much as they loved her mother, then maybe they would help her reach him.

“You seem to be at the beginning of a long journey, young lady.”

Startled, Lucy turned to an old woman who sat outside a bakery. She was looking at her and her eyes were full of things she could not name.

Nervous, the girl could only smile. “Yes, I am.”

“I hope you reach your goal,” the old woman grunted, scratching her knee. “The path you are walking on isn’t easy.”

Lucy felt sadness engulf her and she nodded, patting the woman on her shoulder and giving her a cinnamon bun. “I know,” she whispered.

“You can have my four-wheeler.”

She withdrew her arm, surprised. “P-Pardon?” Receiving no response, she could only gape at the old lady. “A-Are you sure, ma’am? I mean… I could pay for it, if you want.”

“Nonsense,” the woman barked, rolling her eyes. “That was my son’s, when he was still alive. The thing only troubles me so you should have it.”

Lucy’s eyes softened and she smiled, close to tears. “Thank you…”

“Sophie.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Sophie-san. I’m Lucy.”

“You should visit me when your journey ends,” Sophie suggested, grunting as she tried to stand. “Now, I have some place I have to go. Good luck, Lucy. I hope you remain safe.”

“I will, Sophie-san. And thank you.”

旅

Midi was a small country, located on a peninsula south of Minstrel. She was told that there was a dark guild here that had been trying to contact Zeref for months and nearly succeeded. She wanted to see if it was the real thing or they were just dupes.

Lucy munched on a sandwich as she walked on the streets. The country was poor, but the people didn’t seem to care about that fact. There were children running on the sidewalks and the elderly were being escorted across the street. She could say she liked it better here than the last town that she went to. Everyone was just so rude there.

Sighing, she kicked a stone off the road.

“Where are you, Zeref?” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Bosco was so long ago—a month, perhaps? Or maybe even more. She wasn’t doing a very good job at keeping track of time, because it made her homesick. But she knew that it was ages ago. It was a horrible country, slave trade still a trend and dark guilds everywhere. Zeref could no longer be found there when she arrived, and she was directed to the mountains of Bosco, where the ruins of an ancient dark guild remained. She had sensed a lot of dark magic. If Zeref was there, he didn’t make his presence known.

A traveler told her back in Oshibana that he could perhaps be in Tenrou Island. Thinking about it, maybe she should have checked out the island first before heading east. Too late now though. She was too far away from Fiore to turn back. She could only hope that Zeref wasn’t there.

Moreover, Lucy was mildly shocked that some of the people she asked weren’t surprised that she was searching for the dark mage. Some did shame her, calling her a disgrace to mages and telling her that it was a waste of time. Whereas there were others who merely gave her the knowledge that they had and didn’t ask questions.

She decided that she liked those kinds of people.

Arriving at her destination, Lucy eyed the towering building of The Novae. It looked active, and she could hear boisterous laughter inside. But judging from the area and the amount of dark energy present, she could only close her eyes and walk away.

Another dupe, another long journey back to Stella. She could go through Desierto to get to Bellum, but the SE Plug wouldn’t really work well there. She would have to drive back up north and then head east.

Lucy bit the inside of her cheek and pushed a hand through her hair. It was going to be a long ride to reach Minstrel, so she should probably get some rest tonight and leave at the break of dawn.

Yeah, she should do just that.

旅

“Zeref? No, he hasn’t been here since what, a hundred years ago?” the man said thoughtfully before bursting into laughter. “Don’t play around, kid. Zeref isn’t a joke.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes, hand unconsciously moving to grip her whip. “I know that.”

“Good, then don’t involve yourself with the guy. I bet you wouldn’t even last a second in his presence,” the man snorted, waving her away with his hand.

“If I defeat you in a battle, will you tell me then?”

The man paused halfway into drinking, holding the bottle as he raised a brow at her. “Huh? Are you challenging me to a duel?” he said slowly, his face showing mocking disbelief.

“I see you’re deaf,” she said calmly. “Yes, I’m challenging you to a duel.”

“You little bitch!” The man wiped his mouth with the back of his head and smirked. “You must be out of your mind, taking me on. I’m the second best in my guild, y’know.”

Lucy tied her hair into a pony tail and readied herself, sliding into a stance. “As long as you aren’t the best,” she mused, smiling when he turns to her, eyes flashing with rage.

“You’ll regret saying that!”

A blast of wind pushed her bangs back and she blinked, surprised. “Wah, that’s cold,” she stammered, glad that she chose to wear pants today. She grabbed her whip and slapped it against the floor. “Let’s see if you can dance.”

She decided to strike his leg first, and he jumped away to dodge. Just what she wanted. She flicked her wrist and the whip wrapped around his arm. Bracing herself, she spun her arm around and threw him towards a building. He landed with a heavy groan and she stumbled back, wiping away the sudden sweat that formed on her forehead.

“You’re heavy,” she commented, gritting her teeth.

“Air strike!”

“Oops!” Lucy yelped, jumping out of the way. The surge of wind left a cut on the floor and she swallowed nervously—she had to make sure none of his attacks hit her.

“You’ll pay for that!” he snarled, cracking his knuckles as he started to send a wild barrage of punches. She blocked each and every one with her forearms, wincing at the pain. She wasn’t good with hand-to-hand combat.

She gripped one of his arms with both of her hands and sent a kick to his abdomen. “Lucy kick!”

The man grunted, eyes bulging as he coughed violently. Lucy jumped a few feet back. She couldn’t afford to waste any of her energy on this man. She had to end this duel now.

“Gate of the Maiden, I open thee!” she hurriedly commanded, raising the gold key and ramming it down. “Virgo!”

A flash of light engulfed them and Virgo appeared, pink hair flapping in the wind and her hand over her chest. She bowed to Lucy. “Princess, should I be punished?”

“No, no,” Lucy panted, pointing at the man who was now walking towards her. “Defeat him for me, please.”

“Will do.”

Sitting on the curb with the defeated man by her feet, Lucy huffed and dismissed Virgo. She was extremely lucky to have gotten her from that guy—who was it again? Ah, Everlue. She shuddered at the thought of him. How lucky was she to have stumbled upon another key while she was traveling? A bit, apparently.

She poked the guy with her foot. “You owe me answers, old man.”

“Shut up,” he grunted. “I’m not old.”

“Sure.”

He sighed and tried to adjust himself into a sitting position, wincing all the way. He was in bad shape and Lucy promised to pay for his hospital bill if he gave her directions to Zeref.

“Look, I don’t know why you’re looking for that guy, but I’m telling you, he’s bad news,” he said, taking a cigarette out from his pocket and lighting it. He blew out a cloud of smoke and stared out into the distance.

Lucy groaned in frustration. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“Are you sure you want to find him?” he asked, frowning.

“Why do you suddenly care?” she retorted, jumping to her feet. She was panicking. “I need to find Zeref to save my mother, alright? If you don’t know where he is then you’ve wasted my time.”

She turned around, ready to walk away when he suddenly called her. “Wait, I do have some information about him.”

She looked over her shoulder and stared at him, bleakness pooling in her eyes. “What?”

“You won’t find him in this country, that’s for sure,” the man said, shaking his head. “But try Sin, I heard it’s a free country. Anyone can enter and exit as they please, dark mage or not. If there’s one place he might be at, that’s my guess. But if not, take a boat and go to Enca.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He rolled his eyes, puffing out another cloud of smoke. “No one really knows where Zeref is, kid,” he stated as a matter of fact. “But from what I’ve heard, he doesn’t really stay close to where civilization is. So try looking for him in forests and mountains. Pass by the Pergrande Kingdom first, because a lot of people there might know where he is.”

“But… that’s a hard country to enter.”

The man looked at her in incredulity. “And you’re looking for Zeref! I wonder which of the two is harder, hmm?”

Lucy glared at him. “Fine, I’ll enter Pergrande. I’ll even drop by the King and say hi,” she muttered, taking out her map and grimacing. It was going to take forever to get there.

“Don’t be stupid, kid.” The man snuffed out his cigarette on the road and crossed his legs. “You’ll never find him.”

“Oh really?” she mumbled, staring at the sky with a determined glint in her eyes. “Try me.”

望

Lucy watched the sunset with a disinterested look. She had seen the same scene for months now, and it was a bit tiring, watching it alone. Her travels were lengthy and she repeated her clothes every day, stopping occasionally at inns to sleep in. But she was getting there—Bellum turned out to be worth the visit. And that man was nicer than she thought.

Pergrande Kingdom was the biggest country in Ishgar. She didn’t know much about it. She did know that it was a rich kingdom, full of wealth and good people. It was also known as the trading capital of the continent.

She could feel her magic draining and she took out a vial of pills. She popped one in her mouth, her magic slowly returning.

Rubbing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on sending a steady stream of magic into the SE Plug. It was tiring but it was proving to be a better choice than traveling by train all the time. She had plenty of money and she was even ahead of schedule.

Ever since she began this journey, she hadn’t made any friends, apart from Sophie and a cat that stayed with her in Stella. She was only fifteen, but she felt older somehow. Like maybe, she was wasting away her life, all for a chance to meet Zeref.

She hoped he would show up. Because if he didn’t, she might lose her way back home.

望

“Why are you looking for him, child?”

Lucy looked up at the King of Pergrande, and for a moment, she forgot why. Why was she looking for Zeref?

“I…” she trailed off, lowering her head. “My mother’s sick. They said he’s the only one who can lift the curse that was placed on her.”

“Dear, you may be walking into something you cannot walk out from,” the Queen said worriedly, her light pink braids tumbling over her shoulders as she fell back to her seat. She seemed exhausted.

“I know that,” Lucy clarified, clenching her fists. “I know that. But being scared won’t help me, so I beg you, if you don’t know where he is or if you can’t help me, just say so. I don’t have much time left.”

The two rulers looked at each other, discussing something through soft voices before directing their attention back to her. The King cleared his throat. “We do know where he might be.”

Lucy’s eyes widened, her heart almost stopping. “W-What? But I thought… I thought no one knows where he actually is?”

“No one does,” the Queen affirmed, nodding. “However, he has been trying very hard to do something lately, so his presence is stronger than ever. He was last felt at Enca, but if you travel a bit further than that, there’s a little island where he might be residing for the time being.”

“A-And you’re sure of this?”

The Queen smiled sadly. “As sure as we could ever be, dear. Zeref is a terrifyingly dangerous mage. If you aren’t too careful, you may never be able to tell him what you ask of him.”

Lucy couldn’t believe it. A solid trail, and it was just so close! She was mentally thanking every man that she had passed on the way here.

She gave the two rulers a deep bow. “Thank you very much! You don’t know how grateful I am. Do you need anything? Money? Or…”

“No, no!” the King rushed, waving his hands frantically in the air. “We aren’t like that!”

“He’s right.” The Queen sighed, her forehead creasing in worry. “Your safe return is all that we ask from you, Lucy-san.”

望

They were right, Enca was brimming with dark magic. She could feel it wherever she went. Though, they were also correct about Zeref no longer staying here. Although the area was packed with all sorts of mages, dark and light all alike, she couldn’t feel him yet. She was certain she would know if he was nearby.

Because she knew that he wasn’t in Enca anymore, she immediately rented a boat to the next island. It was small, and strangely enough, no one wanted to escort her there. Instead they taught her how to work the boat and left her to herself. Thankfully, it was powered by an SE Plug.

The ocean was quiet and there was only an occasional gust of wind that greeted her. The next island, which she decided she would call as Lucia (since it may as well be her last chance), looked dark from the distance. Gray clouds hovered above the trees and the forest looked ominous from her viewpoint.

Still, she didn’t feel any fright. She was only feeling excited that he may actually be there. That finally, her journey was going to end.

Docking the boat, she stepped onto the sand and stood in front of the looming trees. She swallowed hard.

“Here goes nothing.”

Walking into the dark abyss, she held a small lacrima to illuminate the path. There weren’t any animals, so far. Actually, there wasn’t any sign of life at all. Now that she got a better look at her surroundings, the plants were wilted and everything was dead. The island smelled of rotting flesh and death.

She covered her nose with an arm and ventured deeper into the island.

“Zeref!” she called out, trying her best not to muffle her voice. “I know you’re there!”

Silence.

Lucy mentally reached out to her keys for reassurance and they glowed for only a moment before the light dimmed. She sucked in a deep breath. “Zeref! Please, I need your help!”

There was a rustling to her right and she stepped back, startled.

“H-Hello?”

Once again, a deafening silence answered her.

She was only fifteen, she reminded herself. She was only fifteen, but she was braver than most of the people that she knew. This was nothing.

“Zeref?” she called out, her knees beginning to tremble from fear. The presence of dark magic here was absurd. It was almost suffocating, how thick it was. She was getting cold feet.

“I’m not here to kill you or anything like that,” she said carefully, close to tears. She was so close. He had to be here. He should be.

“I just need your help,” she begged, blinking away the water in her eyes. They slipped down her cheeks and she hiccupped, suddenly feeling very small. Suddenly feeling like she was truly fifteen, young and alone.

“Please…”

There was another rustling from in front of her and she looked up, sniffing. She was crying so hard she had to catch her breath.

“W-Who’s there?” she questioned in a wavering voice, her tears slurring her words.

A person stepped out of the shadows and suddenly the island was no longer dark. The clouds parted and filled the area with light, illuminating the mage that stood before her. He looked as young as she was, with midnight hair and sad eyes that she couldn’t look away from.

“You were calling?”

Lucy’s eyes widened and she stumbled backwards, blood pounding in her ears.

“Z-Zeref?”

There are two kanjis in this first part, if you didn’t notice.

旅 - travel 望 - hope

The places I used are actually real, if you look at the map of Ishgar. Well, they’re as real as they can get! There weren’t any solid information about what the countries were like, so that’s the only part where they begin to separate from the FTverse. I hope you still liked it though :) Stay tuned to the next part!

#fairy tail #fanfiction #zeref x lucy #zeref dragneel #lucy heartfilia #annequinox #traveling with a lonely immortal #part 1

[tomeandflickcorner]

OUAT Episode Analysis- Murder Most Foul

Well.  That was unexpected.  Not sure how I feel about the ‘gotcha’ moment at the end, though.  I know they probably needed a bit of drama to drag the current CS storyline out, but...huh.  Maybe it’s best to reserve judgement until I see where A&E plan to go with this new development.

We start off with the night that Charming and James were separated as babies.  It turns out that during the winter, the brothers fell ill, and Ruth and Papa Charming (whose name is revealed to have been Robert) didn’t have enough money for medicine.  Cue DO Rumple, who offers to give them money for medicine, on the condition they surrender one of their sons to be raised by King George.  And I really love Ruth’s initial reaction to this.  She actually grabs a knife, ready to defend her two sons with her life.  (She did realize she was facing down a man who could reduce her to a pile of dust with just a thought, right?)  But Robert decides they have no real choice, as it’s the only way to ensure their sons will live.  So they, with great reluctance, agree to the terms, with James being selected via coin toss.

Apparently, that event is what led to Robert becoming an alcoholic, with him turning to the drink in an effort to escape from the pain and regret of giving up James.  He admits to the bartender at a local tavern that David, now six, deserves a better father than him.  At that moment, Robert is shocked when King George enters the tavern.  King George announces that his son, Prince James, had been abducted, and he’s looking for anyone who has information. Robert, wanting to help his biological son, decides to take it upon himself to rescue him.  And it was here that I started ‘aww-ing,’ as we see Little Boy David.  (He’s so adorable.)  It turns out this was the true story behind the tale Shepherd David will one day tell Anna. Little Boy David was under the impression that Malcolm was leaving home to recover from his alcoholism.  But in fact, he was trying to rescue long-lost brother James.  To give his father a little bit of luck, Little Boy David gives Robert his lucky coin. (Hmm.  Was this the same coin used in the coin toss?)

Robert makes his way to the Dark Castle to see Rumpelstiltskin, who reveals James actually ran away.  He gives Robert a ticket to the place where James went.  In exchange, Robert has to give up a hair from his head.  While DO Rumple initially implies he has plans for the hair, it turns out this was all an act and the ticket was a freebee.  Because Robert’s determination to see James reminded DO Rumple of his own desire to reunite with his son.  (Okay, fine.  You get a gold star today, Rumple.  I can admit when you act like a halfway decent person.)

The ticket, it turns out, allows the holder access to Pleasure Island of Pinocchio fame.  (Interestingly enough, sharp eyes can spot August was actually writing about the place at the end of the last episode.  Unfortunately, I can’t locate the post that pointed this out to me, so I can’t currently credit the sleuth for this observation.)  Anyway, Robert makes his way there, and is even able to resist the lure of drink in his determination to find James.  He does, however, have a run-in with Pinocchio, back when he was still a wooden puppet.  (Not sure how Pinocchio was around back then, as he’s only supposed to be roughly ten years older than Emma, who won’t be born for another few decades, but oh well.)  Thanks to that pesky trait of his nose being a lie detector, Robert figures out that Pinocchio saw James.  Upon locating Little Boy James, we see he’s completely different from his adult self. He’s just a gentle little boy who doesn’t want to become a knight and kill people.  Robert offers to bring Little Boy James to live with him, stating he’ll have a brother to play with.  Unfortunately, the people who run the place spot them trying to leave, so they have to make a run for it.  When they reach the docks, however, they find King George is there.  Robert identifies himself as Little Boy James’ real father, and states he has no desire to give up his son again.  As such, King George orders his guards to take Robert back to the mainland and kill him, instructing them to make it look like an accident.  

I guess this is how James was able to figure out he had a twin brother somewhere.  I’d always wondered how he seemed to know that information in the Underworld, despite King George never knowing there was a twin brother until after James’s death.  In any event, I feel even more sorry for James than I did before.  From the looks of it, all the negative traits he displayed as an adult were most likely due from being raised by King George.  If he hadn’t been stuck with such a nasty piece of work, he might have turned out differently.  (Seriously, A&E, can we please address those pour souls who got dropped into the River of Lost Souls?  It would leave a bitter taste in my mouth if the show ended with them still trapped in there.)

Flash forward to present day, with Charming leading the Nevengers in a toast commemorating Emma’s safe return from the Wish World and defying the vision of her death at Gideon’s hand. (And I got a huge chuckle from Killian toasting with his flask instead of a wine glass.)  However, when Charming later slips outside to mourn the fact that Snow can’t be present, due to the lingering curse on their shared heart, he starts to hallucinate, seeing an image of his dead father.  He then collapses for some reason.  Wasn’t really clear why, but I guess it’s because he’s currently sleep deprived due to his stubborn refusal to switch off with Snow until the incident with Gideon was dealt with.  (Does this variation of the Sleeping Curse prevent Charming from taking a non-cursed nap or something?)  Killian apparently noticed his friend collapse from the window, as he hurries out to check up on him.  But Charming is too high-strung to be accepting of Killian’s concern, and resorts back to his S3 attitude, dismissing Killian as a pirate.  Killian is visibly hurt by the snub, but backs off without a fight.  When Killian goes back inside, however, Charming notices something on the ground- his father’s lucky coin, the one he gave his father as a boy.

The next morning, we see Charming had taken Killian’s advice and swapped with Snow, as she pays a visit to Regina.  They talk a bit about Robin Clone and Regina’s decision to bring him into Storybrooke.  While I am a bit put off we didn’t get to see how Snow reacted to what Emma went through while she was out, I do applaud her for talking sense here.  Just because Robin Clone looks like Robin Prime, it doesn’t mean he’s the same person.  (Speaking of which, was Robin Clone sleeping in Regina’s living room?  With the size of Regina’s mansion, you’d think she’d have a spare bedroom on hand.  What are you using all those extra rooms for, Gina?)

Meanwhile, Killian, in a surprising turn of events, pays a visit to Archie’s office.  (Is this the first time they’ve interacted since the start of the Revenge arc/2B?) Turns out Killian’s still a bit hurt over the incident the night before and is worried that Charming still views him as the man he used to be, and that Emma deserves better.  Killian then admits the reason why he’s so concerned with how Charming views him is because he’s planning to propose to Emma.  (Insert the shrill squeeing of the CS fandom.)  But, old fashioned gentleman that he is, he wants Charming’s blessing first.  Archie assures Killian that everyone knows he’s a better man now, but suggests that Killian should just come out and ask Charming how he feels about him if he’s that worried about it.

Speaking of Charming, when it’s his turn to be awake again, he has another hallucination of Robert.  His father accuses Charming of forgetting about him, and Charming retorts that Robert was barely his father and was just a drunk he worked hard to forget.  When Charming demands Robert say what he wants, Robert says he wants ‘truth.’  This sets Charming off, and he’s now more determined than ever to solve the mystery behind his father’s death.  To achieve his goal, he decides to enlist Killian’s help when the man stops by to follow Archie’s advice.  Killian suggests that Charming might be better off going to Emma for help, since she’s the sheriff and has magic, but Charming refuses, stating he doesn’t want to worry her or Snow, and that they might not approve of what he might have to do. He then states he needs a pirate, completely oblivious to how Killian becomes crestfallen at his words.

They make their way to the Swan-Jones house, with Killian saying it should be empty, as Emma took Henry out on a canoe trip.  But he briefly balks when he finds out Charming is planning to steal some potion ingredients to conjure up a spell.  Gotta say, I’m with Killian on this one.  Magic isn’t something you want to mess around with.  At least not when you have no formal training.  It��s like operating heavy machinery.  If you don’t know what you’re doing, you could cause a lot of damage, or get badly hurt.  But Charming is not to be swayed and instructs Killian to stand watch. Killian, who is desperate for the man’s approval, reluctantly goes along with it.  At the same time, you see how upset he is about this.  While Charming is occupied rooting around the shed, Emma returns unexpectedly, as Henry forgot to bring the life jackets.  Which leads to a great scene of Killian trying to keep her distracted long enough for Charming to slip away.  A task that’s not easy due to Emma’s superpower kicking in. Killian is able to get away with a half-truth, despite how uncomfortable he is with not being 100% honest with her, talking about how her near-death had made him reflect on some stuff.  Obviously, we know he’s referring to his intent to propose, but he doesn’t let Emma in on that just yet.  In the end, Charming is able to avoid being seen by Emma and the two men head off together.

Back at the Charming loft, Charming and Killian proceed to conjure up a spell that will show them where Robert’s lucky coin was the day that he died.  (Insert cute moment with a beaker.)  Despite their lack of magical training, the spell works, pointing them in the direction of Pleasure Island.  Now that they have a lead, they go see August, who explains the last he saw of Robert was of him escaping Pleasure Island with Little Boy James, and that he never connected them with Charming.  The knowledge that his father had been trying to save his twin brother clearly stuns Charming.  August then explains that he took some pages out of Henry’s book waaaayyyy back in S1, as those pages chronicled his time in Pleasure Island, something he’s not proud of. He offers to look for them in case they reveal more about Charming’s father.

After leaving August’s place, Charming deduces who may have killed his father.  However, Killian, realizing that Charming is out for blood, tries to talk him out of it, as he knows better than most what a quest for vengeance can do to you.  Unfortunately, Charming takes this as a cue to handcuff Killian to a nearby bike rack in order to keep him from stopping him.  He then heads right to the psychiatric ward beneath the hospital, which I guess is now used to hold long-term prisoners.  There, he confronts King George/Albert Spencer, who admits he ordered Robert’s death.  Charming proceeds to challenge his former adoptive father to a duel to the death. But just as Charming gains the upper hand, Killian arrives, having broken out of the handcuffs off-screen, and quickly returns King George/Albert Spencer back to his cell.  Killian proceeds to try and talk Charming down, stating that while the man did admit responsibility for Robert’s death, he also told Charming that his father resisted temptation in the end, and became a father Charming could be proud of.  This leads to Charming to have a full-on emotional breakdown, admitting his fears that he’ll lose everything.  Killian then presents Charming with a choice.  He can proceed to kill George/Albert, but first he has to remember that Robert did everything in his power to be able to look his son in the eye. He asks Charming if he wants to be a man who can look his father in the eye, too.  With these words, Charming collapses and cries on Killian’s shoulder, completely overwhelmed.

Sometime later, Charming makes his way to the docks, where he makes peace with his father’s memory as he now knows that Robert did come through in the end, overcoming his vices. Killian, once again concerned for his friend, sticks around to make sure he’s okay.  Charming proceeds to apologize for his behavior throughout the episode, stating that Killian was the noble one that day, and that he’s sorry for how much he risked that day, including Killian’s relationship with Emma. Upon receiving confirmation that Charming believes he’s is good enough for his daughter, Killian gathers up the courage to ask for his blessing to propose to Emma.  After a brief pause that clearly makes Killian very nervous, a smiling Charming grants that blessing and the two men head off together.

However, that’s when the ‘gotcha’ moment happens.  When Killian is making his way back home to Emma, blissful that there’s nothing holding him back from proposing, he’s approached by August, who located the pages pertaining to Pleasure Island.  Even though he didn’t find any new information about Robert, he figured Charming might want them anyway.  Killian agrees to pass them along.  But after August leaves, Killian spots an illustration of Robert and is horrified to realize he recognizes him.  It turns out the two guards who were hired to stage Robert’s fatal ‘accident’ were interrupted before they could complete their task.  Killian, back when he was still the infamous Captain Hook (and apparently taking a slight detour during his time under Pan’s employ, as this took place when Charming/David was only six), had targeted the cart that was to be used in the frame-up with the intention of making off with some of the king’s gold.  In the processes, Hook kills the two guards and then, in a tragic turn of events, he proceeds to kill Robert as well, stating he can’t afford to risk the older man keeping silent about what he’d seen on his own.

So, yeah.  That stinks.  I think this is the first time we’ve actually seen Killian/Hook at his most ruthless. Up until now, while we have certainly seen him do some underhanded stuff, they just….never seemed all that bad to me.  Not that what he did in the past wasn’t bad, of course.  But there was always something that made it not seem unforgivingly bad.  It was usually just him reacting to something that set him off.  But this?  Yeah, this is completely different.  This wasn’t just another spur-of-the moment thing.  This was straight up cruelty.  I think this is the first time you actually can see why he earned the reputation he had as Captain Hook. And I am wondering how Charming’s going to react if he finds out this new tidbit about his future son-in-law. I admit, I won’t be surprised if he’s initially put off by this.  But I’ll also be disappointed if he doesn’t eventually come around and remember what he said about Killian in this very episode- that he has changed since then. Besides, it’s clear that Killian is deeply remorseful now that he realizes what he’s done, as he’s now back to feeling unworthy and therefore reluctant to propose to Emma.  And you know, seeing as Snow forgave Regina for killing her father despite there being nothing substantial to suggest she’s remorseful for it, I expect Charming to eventually forgive Killian for this as well.  Especially since Killian/Hook hadn’t realized he was responsible until just now.  Unlike Regina, who knew perfectly well she was killing Snow’s father, Killian/Hook had no way of knowing this man was the father of someone he’d eventually view as a friend and brother, as well as the future grandfather of the woman he’d one day fall completely in love with.

This right here, while it is an upsetting revelation, can also serve to be the final step in Killian’s redemption.  While he has admitted he’s deeply remorseful about the murders he committed during his time as vengeful Captain Hook, this is probably the first time he’s being directly confronted with the people who suffered because of it.  Sure, he’s faced down people he’s hurt in the past, like Ursula and Liam 2.0.  But those were either easy fixes or, in the case of Liam 2.0, more about putting an end to a vicious cycle of blood and revenge.  This time, there’s no easy fix.  Granted Robert was going to die regardless, but Killian/Hook had the chance to spare his life and didn’t take it.  As a result, he unknowingly caused a lot of pain for people he would one day love dearly.  When he gathers the courage to admit the truth to Charming and Emma, and they forgive him for it (because it’s obvious they will, with the only question being how many episodes it’ll take), it’ll be symbolic of Killian being fully absolved of his past.

Come to think of it, I think it’s a huge testament to Killian’s character that he was able to recognize Robert when he saw the illustration.  Just think about it for a moment.  When he killed Robert, the man was nothing to him.  As far as Hook/Killian was concerned, he was just some random stranger that was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  And yet, he is clearly able to remember what that man looked like, even though it’s been years since that night.  I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t find that impressive.

Meanwhile, in subplot B, Regina, following Snow’s advice, starts trying to help Robin Clone acclimate himself into Storybrooke.  Unfortunately, Regina gets momentarily distracted by Zelena popping by to say she won’t allow Robin Clone anywhere near Baby Robyn, stating he has no rights to his sorta-daughter.  (I know, dead horse, but technically you shouldn’t have any rights to her, either, Zelena.  You know, seeing as how you were Robin Prime’s rapist.)  By the time Zelena leaves, Robin Clone has gone and scarpered. While out and about, Robin Clone runs into Keith/Sheriff of Nottingham.  (Ah, so I guess he didn’t die at the end of ‘Lacey.’  I’ve always wondered if Gold beat him to death after the cutaway.  Looks like he didn’t.)  Regina steps in before Robin Clone could kill him, but this leads to a small confrontation between the two, which leads to Regina stating that, even if Robin Clone didn’t regret killing Keith now, he might later on.  Okay, I’m completely okay with that line.  It’s nice to see brief glimpses of redeemed Regina.  If only they weren’t so rare to see.  And it gets better.  When Regina takes Robin Clone to her vault to tend to his hand, which was slightly injured in the struggle with Keith, we learn that Regina still hasn’t returned the hearts she collected. Finally, someone addresses that! I’m starting to like Robin Clone. He actually calls Regina out on stuff. Regina even states she knows she sounds like a hypocrite.  (Did I mention I really like this Regina subplot?  How’s that for a novel concept?) However, Regina insists she has changed, (then why haven’t you gotten around to returning those hearts in your possession to their rightful owners?) and that she brought Robin Clone back with her because she was hoping she could be a part of his fresh start, too.  The two proceed to kiss, but it’s visibly obvious Regina feels something is off about the kiss.  It doesn’t feel the same as when she kissed Robin Prime.  Regina later talks to Snow about the matter. (So we get two scenes with Snow’s interactions with Regina in this episode, but none between Snow and Emma? Yeah, that’s lovely.) She begins to acknowledge that this isn’t her Robin.  But that leads to her wondering who this Robin Clone is, and what he could possibly want.  That question is made even worse when we see Robin Clone swiping a fancy-looking box from Regina’s vault. What he plans to do with it remains a mystery at the moment, but I doubt it’s good.

(Click here to read more Episode Analyses)

#ouat episode analysis #ouat 6x12 #murder most foul #david nolan #prince charming #killian jones #captain hook #captain charming #captain charming brotp #emma swan #captain swan #robert nolan #prince james #king george #albert spencer #rumpelstiltskin #wish robin #regina mills #slightly anti Regina #zelena mills #anti zelena #tagged anti to be safe