#vianna works

[viannaheus]

Just a doodle of an exploration for a design, it will be changed, to the new egg.

#vianna talks #vianna works #fanart #qsmp #qsmp fanart

[avatar-anna]

Maybe a imagine where reader is dating dad-Harry and he has a child but they’re not a fan of reader so it causes some issues :( but a nice happy ending :)

sure!

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“So, Kaya, how was school today?”

“Why? It’s not like you actually care.”

“Kaya! Be polite.”

Resting your hand over Harry’s beneath the table, you rubbed your thumb soothingly over his skin. You knew he wasn’t pleased with his daughter’s behavior, but you could handle her. As a high school teacher, you handled worse on the daily.

“I do,” you said, looking Kaya in the eye. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

Kaya continued to glare at you from across the table, but you just stared back. She’d been like this for weeks, and you’d let her rude and flippant comments roll off you with ease, not once complaining to Harry. You understood her frustration when you were first introduced, you were Harry’s first real girlfriend since his wife passed away a few years ago, nothing about the situation was easy. But Harry meant a lot to you, so you stuck it out, hoping things would ease over time. They did with Harry’s youngest daughter Vianna, but Kaya only seemed to dig her heels in with you the longer you stuck around.

“It was fine,” she finally said, going back to pushing her dinner around on her plate.

Well that was a first. Normally Kaya would just pretend you didn’t exist if you tried to ask her anything remotely personal. It was barely anything, but it gave you a sliver of hope.

“And you, Vi? How was your day?”

Vianna was much more eager to share, and you were pretty sure that was part of the reason Kaya disliked you so much. But you weren’t going to stop getting to know her and Kaya. You hadn’t told him yet, but you were in love with Harry, something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He made you so happy, so you were determined to at least get Kaya to tolerate you.

Dinner ended without much fanfare, which was a win in your book. Harry walked you to the front door once Vianna was tucked in bed and Kaya was doing her homework upstairs. He held your hands in both of his, swinging them back and forth in the space between you.

“I’m sorry about her. She’s been in therapy since her mum died, but—”

“H, it’s okay. I get it,” you said. “To her, I’m replacing her mom, it’s a normal feeling.”

Nodding, he pulled you in for a hug. “Promise you won’t quit on me?”

He sounded so scared that Kaya would scare you off. From the conversations you had, Harry didn’t date much, and hadn’t had a girlfriend since his wife. That notion was a little intimidating, but he had been very open and honest about he was feeling. And you had no qualms about him talking about her, she meant a lot to him and always would, you would be a horrible person if you tried to make him, or the girls forget that.

You didn’t want to quit on him, but you didn’t want to come between him and his family, either. Kaya and Vianna were his entire world, and that was something that would never change, nor would you want it too.

So things were good. You decided early on that honesty was the best policy, and it had worked so far. Finding time where Harry was genuinely alone could sometimes be challenging, but both of you were always up for it.

But he was looking at you with those dreamy green eyes of his, and you would do just about anything when he looked at you the way he was now.

Taking his chin between your fingers, you leaned in and kissed him. “Promise.”

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When you became a teacher, never did you ever think that your boyfriend’s daughter would be sitting at a desk in front of you, but there she was.

She was in eighth grade, but her school was doing a field trip so the students could get an idea of what being in high school was like. When your principal asked if you could use your free period to talk, you didn’t think much of it, but now Kaya was glaring at you from the back of the classroom, and you were having a hard time giving the small speech you prepared.

Thankfully, you got through it with only minimal judgement from the class. “Any questions?”

A couple kids asked you about how much harder high school was and if it was hard to get from building to building. You answered honestly, glad to have a distraction from Kaya’s glaring or giggling with her friends. She hadn’t said anything yet, and you were thankful for that.

But your relief came too soon because as you were just about to let them go to their next activity, Kaya asked, “What’s your policy on dating students’ parents?”

The class erupted into giggles, which you were sure was exactly the reaction Kaya wanted. Your face flushed, but you tried not to express anymore embarrassment than that.

When the laughter finally died down, you looked at Kaya. “Why don’t you stay after class and we can discuss your concerns in private?”

Your tone didn’t leave anything up for debate, so she stayed behind while the rest of the class was dismissed.

“So, Miss Styles, what was that about?”

Kaya shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “It’s a genuine concern.”

Sighing, you walked over to the desk she was sitting at and leaned on the one across from it. “Listen, I understand you don’t like me, and that’s completely fine, but this is my place of work, and I won’t be disrespected like that here. If you have a problem, you come to me and talk to me about it, but not like that. And not here.”

“I could tell your teachers you were misbehaving,” you shrugged, trying not to match her energy. “But I’m not going to, and I’m not going to tell your dad. I just need you to know that in here? You can’t talk to me that way. Anywhere else is fair game.”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it? You’re not my mom,” she spat. There was so much anger inside her, you weren’t really sure what to do, you weren’t really sure what you could do.

“Whatever,” Kaya grumbled.

That was as good as it was gonna get, you supposed, so you stood up and held the door open for her. “Have a good day, Miss Styles.”

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She ignored you as she shouldered her backpack, only muttering under her breath as she was passing by you. “You were wrong by the way. I don’t not like you. I hate you.”

She left without so much as a glance in your direction, leaving you to feel like you’d been punched in the gut.

“Hey, babe. I’ve missed you.”

You let Harry kiss your cheek and take your hand, leading you down the street towards the pizza parlor you frequented. Because of your busy schedules, dates had to be quick, easy, and ready to go at a moment’s notice, and pizza was often the meal of choice.

Harry told you about his day, and you listened, but it was different now. One half of you was present with him, but the other half kept replaying Kaya’s words over and over again. I hate you. That was how she felt. It had been a week since Kaya said that to you, and you hadn’t been able to get over it. How could you?

You and Harry ordered slices of pizza, and you insisted on paying for it. He was constantly spoiling you, and you tried to do what you could on a teacher’s salary to dote on him. You sent him flowers and bought him little hair clips and baked for him when you had the time. You were very crafty, so any gestures were typically homemade, but he loved all your little gifts and the ways you expressed how much you liked him. You were pretty sure you were in love with him, but that would remain a secret for now.

“So, my mum is coming to visit for a few days next week, and it might be too soon, but I’d love for you to meet her,” Harry said around a bite of pizza.

“What?” you asked, your blood going cold.

“You can say no,” Harry said, mistaking your reaction for nervousness. “I’d love it if you said yes, but you can say no. I know we’ve only been seeing each other for a couple months and we’re taking things slow, but I really feel like you—”

“Harry, stop,” you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Harry frowned, his hand resting on your arm. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t think I can do this,” you said, but barely. You spoke silently, you wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t heard you. But he did, he definitely did.

“What? Meet my mum? If it’s too soon, it’s fine, I understand —”

“It’s not just your mom, it’s us, it’s everything.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. After waiting your whole life for the right person to come into your life, Harry did. But you couldn’t keep seeing him knowing that his daughter hated you. You thought that over time, Kaya would come to like you, but it was clear she wouldn’t change her opinion about you. You just hoped that when the right woman did come along, Kaya would be comfortable around her.

Realization seemed to hit Harry like a truck when he saw the expression on your face. “No, you—you promised you wouldn’t—”

“I’m sorry,” you said around a sob. You were vaguely aware of the fact that this was happening in a public place, but there was no stopping this trainwreck now.

“Is it the girls? Is it Kaya? I know she can be difficult—”

“It’s not, H, it’s me,” you said, even if Kaya was the reason for this. You didn’t want there to be any problems between them. “I’m just...not where you’re at. I’m sorry.”

You tried to walk away, not wanting to look at him with tears in his eyes, tears that you caused. It was breaking your heart to do this to him, and to yourself, but you had to step away. You didn’t want to get to a point where he had to make a choice, he shouldn’t have to make that choice between you and his family.

Before you could leave, Harry gripped your arm. “Please, Y/n, we can work something out. Is it because I’m busy? Is it someone else? Please, I just want to make this work.”

“You can’t,” you said, slipping your hand out of his when he loosened his grip. “I’m sorry.”

He called out to you, but you ignored it, knowing if you turned back, you would take back everything you said, and you couldn’t.

So you picked up the pace of your footsteps, each one away from Harry like a stab to the heart.

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Life was hell without Harry in it, but that didn’t mean it stopped. You still had to work, you still had to get up every morning, you still had to exist.

Heartbreak was something you were familiar with, but this was different. Tears welled in your eyes whenever you thought about him, you couldn’t go to the same places you used to go anymore, and the world seemed a lot grayer, like Harry held all the sunshine and had taken it away from you when you broke up with him.

You missed the girls too. Little Vianna and her curious mind, and Kaya too. She may have hated you, but you saw a lot of yourself in her. You’d started to feel like something resembling a family, and now that had been ripped from you entirely.

A whole month had gone by, and not once did you speak to Harry. He called and texted you constantly the first week, and then nothing the second, and then after that he stopped, only leaving one drunk voicemail.

“I miss you. I shouldn’t, but I do. You promised not to quit, and then you did, you quit on us, on me. But even after all that, I still miss you. I would forgive you in a heartbeat if you just came back, came home. Come home, Y/n. I lo—”

And that was where it ended. Hearing him so upset only broke your heart even more, but you listened to that voicemail every night, torturing yourself over what would never be.

You were in your classroom, the last bell having rung a few minutes ago. You had tests to grade, but you couldn’t find it in you to do anything but sit and stare blankly at the empty desks, occasionally replaying the voicemail again.

Tears were starting to fall when you heard a soft knock on the door. Startled, you wiped your cheeks and stood to open it, hoping you didn’t look as pathetic as you felt.

“Kaya? Vianna?”

She was on the other side of your door, box braids covering the straps of her backpack. Kaya was the last person you expected to see, and not just because she didn’t go to your school.

“Can we come in? It’s urgent.”

“Uh...sure,” you said, not really sure what to do. You let them in, but not before Vianna surged forward and wrapped her arms around you. Unable to help yourself, you hugged her back, missing her as much as you missed Harry.

Kaya handed Vianna her phone when they came inside, setting her up with a game so you could talk.

“Kaya, does your dad know you’re here?” you asked. Her and Vianna’s school was a block away from yours, but Harry was usually the one to pick them up. He would be worried sick.

“Yeah, he thinks Vi and I went to a friend’s house,” she said.

Sighing, you said, “You shouldn’t lie to your dad, Kaya—”

“We need to talk about him. My dad.”

You were surprised by Kaya’s outburst, but you didn’t really know what to say. “What about him?”

“He’s miserable,” she said, worrying the hem of her skirt between her fingers. “He gets up late, he barely writes, he hardly smiles anymore, and he didn’t do pancake breakfast last weekend.”

It hurt to know how much you hurt him, but you didn’t really know what Kaya wanted you to do about it. “Kaya, I’m not sure what you want me to do—”

“It’s because you broke up with him, isn’t it? That’s why he’s been so sad?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” you said, not really answering her question. You really didn’t need to hear how much you hurt Harry, you were already torturing yourself as it was.

Kaya chewed on her bottom lip, her knuckles fiercely wrapped around the straps of her backpack. “I know you broke up with him because of me.”

“No, that’s not it, Kaya,” you said, trying to spare the young girl’s feelings. “Things just didn’t work out. It happens sometimes.”

She shook her head. “I said I hated you, and you broke up with him a week later. That’s not a coincidence.”

You weren’t really sure what Kaya wanted you to say. That she was wrong? That she was right? None of this would make any difference, you and Harry were broken up. That was all there was to it.

“Why are you here, Kaya? Do you need a ride home?” you asked. She just kept looking at you with the same unreadable expression, and it was making you uneasy.

“I want you to get back together with my dad,” she said, so fast that it all sounded like one word.

She what? Last time you spoke to Kaya, she told you she hated you, and now she wanted you to be with Harry again? “It’s not that simple, Kaya.”

“I was wrong about you, though! I haven’t seen him that happy since—since my mom. And—And I was angry at that at first, but now he’s sad again, and I feel like it’s my fault,” she said, choking up as she explained.

You knew that her mother was most likely the source of her disdain towards you, but hearing her say it out loud made you want to reach out and hug her. Kaya was so young, and she didn’t deserve to go through what she did at such a young age. And you tried so hard not to tread on any toes or make it seem like you were trying to replace her mom when you were with Harry, because you weren’t. You liked Harry, you even loved him, but you knew his late wife would always hold a special place in his heart, and you would never try to change that.

“It’s not your fault, Kaya,” you said gently. A few tears were tracking down her face, and you hesitantly rested your hand on your shoulder to squeeze it affectionately. “Things just didn’t work out. I’m sorry that your dad is upset, but it won’t last forever. Just give him lots of love, he loves your hugs and kisses. And you too, Vi.”

Kaya didn’t protest anymore, leaving when you opened the door for her with Vianna’s hand in hers.

The truth was you’d love nothing more than to be with Harry again, but you knew you’d thoroughly burned that bridge. Harry might have been upset, but you were sure he was angry with you too. You broke up with him with little to no explanation and hadn’t spoken to him since. There was no way he would forgive you after this.

Still, your heart went out to the two young girls in front of you.

“If you need anything, text me, okay? But no more lying to your dad about where you are,” you said, scribbling your phone number on a scrap of paper and handing it to Kaya. “Do you need a ride home?”

“Thank you,” she said, pocketing your number. “And no. My friend’s mom is waiting for me out front.”

You held the door open for the girls again, making sure Kaya was telling the truth and watching her get into a minivan with a girl you recognized from two weeks ago.

You’d been trying really hard not to let your heartbreak show at work, but seeing the girls and hearing how horrible you made Harry feel was soul-crushing. It made you question whether you should’ve broken up with him, but in the moment it felt like the right decision. Kaya and her feelings should come before yours every time, and to be honest you were saving yourself from feeling worse when things with Kaya came to a head and he would have to break up with you.

It’s easier this way, you told yourself. Harry would move on and so would you. Kaya would come around to the idea of her dad dating and you would be...well, you didn’t know what you would be, but at the moment you were just hoping for okay.

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“Kaya? Where are you? Is everything okay?”

You’d gotten a text from her at the end of the school day saying there was some kind of emergency. She didn’t specify, so you rushed over to Harry’s house to be on the safe side.

You hadn’t been back to the house in weeks, but the drive over was muscle memory. Your heart clenched as you let yourself inside, seeing all the pictures of Kaya and Vianna since they were babies. He loved his girls so much, it was one of the things that endeared you to him the most.

The house was empty, which made your heart race. Kaya had been texting you about “emergencies” the last couple weeks, and every time you picked up the phone and called her, it was just a question about homework or asking if she could come by your classroom to redo her braids.

It felt weird to be hanging out with your ex’s kids, especially since one of them played a part in your break up. But every time you saw Kaya’s 911 text and tried to ignore it, you worried that the one time you didn’t answer her would be the one time it was an actual emergency. You thought about telling Harry, and then you tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t answer your calls or reply to your texts. Not that you blamed him, but you were now stuck in a sticky situation.

“Kaya?”

There was still no answer, but as you wandered further into the house, you saw that the glass doors to the backyard were open. Curiously, you wandered outside, eyes widening when you saw what was in front of you.

One of the patio tables had been dragged into the middle of the large lawn with a tablecloth, two candles, and a small vase of flowers were set on top. Little lights dotted the grass too, and upon further inspection, you saw that they were fake candles. Romantic, instrumental music was playing from a speaker somewhere, and you could smell something delicious on the cool breeze.

“What on earth?” you muttered as you came closer to the table. No one was around, it was just you.

“I think we’ve been parent trapped.”

Startled, you turned around to see Harry standing behind you, eyes surveying the decorated table in front of you. He didn't look at you once, but that only gave you the opportunity to look him over.

He was sporting a five o'clock shadow, something he never had when you were dating. He was a little paler, and there were circles under your eyes, but they didn't look as prominent as yours. But he looked cozy too in an old hoodie and newsboy cap over his unruly hair. It was his usual work attire, Harry always wanted to be comfortable while writing.

You didn't know what to say to him. He obviously didn't know you were coming over, and Kaya was clearly trying to get the two of you to make up. She hadn't said anything about Harry to you since she started texting you about emergencies, and you thought she'd let it go, but clearly you were wrong.

"Harry, I—I didn't plan this, I swear—"

"I know you didn't, Y/n, it's fine," Harry said, his voice void of emotion. "We watched The Parent Trap a couple nights ago and Kaya must've gotten this idea in her head."

Hearing his voice made your heart skip a beat, but it killed you to hear him so guarded too. You did this. You made him this frosty towards you.

"She shouldn't have done that. I'm really sorry, Harry. I'll just, um, I'll just go," you said, inching back towards the glass doors.

"You can't!"

Kaya, her friend, and Vianna came running outside to stop you. She looked visibly distressed at the idea of you leaving, but Vi just looked happy to be there, waving to you before running up to Harry to be held. He picked her up immediately, kissing her smiling cheeks.

"Kaya, you can't keep doing this," you said.

"But it's my fault you're not together anymore. I know you said it wasn't, but I know it is, and I know you broke up and you both say you're fine, but you're not. Dad definitely isn't. Look at him!"

You did look at him. Harry was frowning, but you were pretty sure it was because he was being set up and not because of your break up. Kaya was right about you, though. You were miserable. You kept waiting for the moment where you were finally over him, but it hadn't happened yet. You weren't together for very long, but Harry—and Kaya and Vianna—made a lasting impact on you.

"Kaya, what happened had nothing to do with—"

"But it did, Dad. It had everything to do with me. I was so mean to Y/n, and I told her I hated her, and then she broke up with you, and you've been miserable ever since, and I feel terrible!"

She was crying, and Harry quickly went over to console her. Her friend stood there awkwardly, clearly not expecting all of this drama. You weren't expecting it either, to be honest.

"Can you at least just talk? We bought you dinner," Kaya said once Harry was able to calm her down. They'd been mumbling to each other, too quiet for you to hear, but you finally could towards the end of their conversation.

"Yeah? With who's money?" he asked, tapping Kaya's nose with his knuckle.

"I used my allowance," you heard Kaya grumble into Harry's side. He was holding her tight with one arm, while the other held Vi.

It was quite picturesque, and you resisted the urge to take your phone out and capture the moment. It was so clear that Harry loved his daughters and wanted nothing but the absolute best for them, and you weren't sure you were what was best.

You debated whether you should just leave now and save yourself the embarrassment of Harry telling you to go. You began to inch towards the door, but as your hand brushed the door knob, your name was called.

"Where are you going?" Kaya asked, running over to you.

"There's no emergency, Kaya. I'm going home."

"But—But I set all this up for you and Dad. I thought if you just sat down and talked you could fix everything," she said, reaching out to hold your hand. "Can't you just stay for a little?"

You shook your head. "I don't think he wants me here, Kaya—"

"You can stay, Y/n."

Harry was looking at you, looking at where yours and Kaya's hands were joined, more specifically. You didn't think he'd been listening, seeing as he'd hardly paid you much attention, but there he was, saying it was okay if you stayed.

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"So, how have you—"

"Why did you lie?"

Well that didn't take long. You'd been sitting awkwardly for about five minutes, a box of untouched pizza between the two of you. Kaya said she bought dinner, but what that really meant was cheese pizza and plastic cups decorated with ballerinas and ballet slippers filled with grape juice. It wasn't over the top or fancy, but the effort would've made you smile if Harry hadn't been so stoic since you sat down.

You figured you would try and ease your way into this difficult conversation, but apparently Harry wanted to jump right in, and you supposed that was fair.

Not looking at him, you watched your fingers idly pick at the tablecloth. "I would never want to come between you and your daughters, Harry."

"But if you'd just told me what happened, I could've talked to her. I could've—"

"And drive a wedge between you and Kaya? Make her hate me even more?" you asked with a shake of your head. "Those are your girls, H. That's your family, and I'd never come between you and them."

"But you were—You could've been—I just wish you'd told me," he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "I spent so much time agonizing over why you just called it quits out of the blue. I couldn't wrap my head around it. Things were so good, and I—For the first time in a long time, I was truly happy with someone that wasn't my wife."

"I'm sorry," you said, still not looking at him. Harry sounded defeated enough as it was, you didn't need to see the look on his face to match.

"I mean, I don't blame you for wanting to end things now that I know. Kaya can be harsh sometimes. Even with me."

You shrugged. "She has a right to be. I don't know what I would do if I was in her shoes. Grief manifests differently in everyone."

"I suppose you're right," he said, and then there was silence for a while.

You didn't know what else to say, and it appeared that Harry didn't either. You weren't sure if that was the end of the conversation or the end of the road or what, but now that you were here, you didn't want to go. You'd hardly looked at him all night, but being this close to Harry again settled a part of you that had been driving you crazy the last few weeks. He felt like home, something you weren't sure you should divulge given the tense atmosphere.

"Kaya told me she's been coming to you with stuff," Harry said randomly. "Doing her and Vi's hair, helping her with her schoolwork, things like that."

For the first time in what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, you looked up at him. He didn't look angry or sad, he didn't really have any expression on his face. "I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't answer any of my calls or texts."

"I—I'm not mad. I'm actually quite relieved," he said. "I have a hard time doing their hair sometimes. Her mother taught me how before she died, but I hadn't quite mastered it yet, and even after staying up late watching videos and asking people for help, I still can't manage to get it, so thank you."

The thank you came as a surprise, but you would take that over bitterness any day. "You're welcome. I can give you a couple of pointers if you'd like."

"I would actually, if that's okay."

"Of course."

You thought Harry would leave it at that, but he surprised you by getting out of his seat and rounding the table so he could crouch down next to you. "Actually, it's not okay. Kaya's right, I have been miserable without you. I'd been so confused and so hurt, but I understand now that you were trying to put me and the girls first. That—That means a lot to me."

"She thought I was replacing her mother, Harry, and I would never try to—"

"I know, I know," he said, resting his hand over yours when he heard your voice catch. "And I think Kaya knows that too. She's been acting strange since we'd broken up, and now I suppose I know why."

"I was miserable too," you said. You felt like you had to say it, had to let him know that your decision hurt him just as much if not more. You made yourself walk away from someone truly great, and it was torture. "Being with you was the happiest I'd been in a long time, and I knew I was in—" you stopped yourself, knowing that that kind of confession was much too soon. "It wasn't easy for me either, is all I'm trying to say."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry for Kaya's behavior," he said. There was a knowing glint in his eye that told you he knew what you'd been about to say, but he let it go for now.

You didn't know what to say now, what to do. You and Harry made up, but there were no future plans. You were about to ask what exactly happened now, when he spoke up first.

"So, I guess we should finish our date then, huh?"

Your eyes flicked to his, wide with surprise. "You—"

"I can't promise you easy, nothing ever is, and certainly not in this house," Harry said. He took your hand and brought your knuckles to his mouth, his lips brushing across them gently. "But I think we deserve a second chance, don't you?"

His words made you want to cry. You often dreamed about Harry taking you back, about a happy ending with him. He wasn't guaranteeing it, but he was promising welcoming you back into his arms, and that was really what mattered.

Unable to say anything, you surged out of your chair and hugged Harry hard. He meant so much to you, and that notion only seemed to grow with time. If this was a second chance, you were going to take it.

Harry squeezed you back just as hard, his hair tickling your nose as you rested your face in the crook of his neck. Neither of you moved, more than content to be in each other's space again.

"We have an audience," Harry said eventually. He was looking over your shoulder and into the house, where the girls were most likely watching this exchange.

"That sounds about right."

When Harry finally stood up, he helped you back into your seat, kissing your cheek and not your lips because he knew his daughters were watching. "So, shall we continue our date?"

You shook your head. "No."

"No?" Harry asked, incredulous. "Are you rejecting me again? Because I don't think I can handle that."

You shook your head, hiding your smile with your hand. "No, I think we should continue our date another time and invite the girls to dinner. It's only fair seeing as they worked so hard on it."

Harry threw his head back and laughed. It was one of his full-bellied ones that had him covering his face with his hands. Nothing you said was particularly funny, but you understood how he felt. It was the first time you felt this happy in weeks, and sometimes you just had to let it out.

"I like the way you think, love. Wait right here."

Harry left the table to go get the girls, and you watched as Kaya hung on his arm while little Vianna clung to his leg and Kaya's friend jumped around. Seeing them like that made your heart race. They all looked so happy, and their smiles never dimmed once when they came and joined you around the table.

Vianna sat on your lap while Harry pulled up a few more chairs around the table. She touched your face curiously, complimenting the subtle shimmer on your eyes and the little shells pinned in your hair. You complimented her in kind, noting her beautiful brown skin and eyes, your heart warming at her big smile.

When everyone was finally ready to sit down and eat cold pizza, you helped Harry to pass out plates topped with slices. You met his eye once, smiling when he winked at you. It felt so natural, so perfect, and you ended up feeling thankful for Kaya's meddling, otherwise you would still be alone and moping around your house.

Turning to her, you asked, "So, Kaya, how was your day?"

And you listened as she smiled and broke down every detail.

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[allthebrazilianpolitics]

‘A need for memory’: Black Brazilians dig into family roots to fight ‘historical erasure’

Attention is turning to individuals and families as country confronts legacy of slavery and question of reparations

Eliana Alves Cruz and Branca Vianna grew up at a similar time in different neighbourhoods of Rio de Janeiro. But the two Brazilian women had very different experiences of their family history.

Cruz, 57, was always surrounded by elderly relatives, yet struggled to get them to recount stories about the men and women who had preceded them. In contrast, Vianna remembers the omnipresent figure of her grandmother’s great-grandfather, who died in 1868. There was even a painting of him hanging in the family home where Vianna, now 61, spent her holidays as a child.

Cruz is Black and, she has since discovered, descended from a west African woman who was trafficked to Brazil in the early 19th century. Vianna is white and her great-great-great-grandfather was an enslaver who made a fortune in coffee.

Their stories reflect a common pattern among Brazilian families: while European ancestry tends to be remembered and celebrated, institutionalised silence around how the African diaspora shaped the country has robbed its descendants of their personal history.

Many Black Brazilians feel keenly the absence of this history – but attempting to recover it can be the work of a lifetime.

“Everyone, one day, wonders about where they come from. And in Brazil, for the Black population especially, it’s something of a thorny issue. It’s uncomfortable,” said Cruz.

Continue reading.

#brazil #brazilian politics #politics #antiracism #mod nise da silveira #image description in alt

[fanficg12023]

The Pandemic

Synopsis: What would have been the animals on the farm if a pandemic had taken over the farm? After Napoleon took control of the farm and Snowball was banished, things were going as usual, until a virus came to the farm and infected one of the most important pigs. As always, Napoleon was saying that Snowball was behind the problems, but as things went to become more difficult, a hard decision was made, and the animal farm wasn't the same from that time on.

Felipe Vianna e Antônio Abucham

Fanfic: After a long day of work on the construction of the windmill, the animals were very tired, something wasn't normal, especially for Squealer. He didn't appear during the whole day. Napoleon noticed Squealer's absence and sent the dogs to find him. About 2 hours later, the dogs returned together with Squealer who was in a very bad mood and appearance, he was sick.

When the other animals saw him they started to try to discover what disease he had, but no one managed to come up with a good conclusion, it seemed to be something new, possibly a virus. 

Napoleon, trying to calm down the other animals , said that Squealer was already recovering. He also said that Snowball was behind it all. The animals were worried not only for Squealer but also for their safety because a new virus taking over the farm could end their lives.

One week passed and the animals didn't have any news about Squealer since they discovered he was sick. The answer for it was given by Clover who was thinking that Squealer might be kidnapped by Snowball. When Clover said that, the animals didn't know if they could stay happy or sad, because they thought they could relax in peace, now that this new disease was over but in parallel, Squealer wasn't with them anymore. 

Right after that moment, Napoleon called all the animals to an urgent meeting. In which we announced that Squealer was sacrificed because he was working as a spy to Snowball, and all the virus stuff, was just a lie that Squealer tried to make to convince other animals. For the first time Napoleon's speech appeared to be right, but before sleep, Muriel the goat started to vomit and felt very awful.

When they woke up, Muriel was lying on the floor and died. They knew something was strange, and that virus was circulating over the farm. Minutes later, more animals started to feel sick. Old Benjamin, the most intelligent of animals, told the animals that he realized Napoleon was just trying to make things appear excellent to them when in reality their lives were not good. Animals agreed with him, and in Honor of Muriel, they called up a rebellion against Napoleon. They knew they were sick and weak, but they wanted to fight for their comrades. On the same day all of them battled against the leader, and in a very easy way defeated him, because all the pigs got this virus before then, so they were weaker than the other animals. 

From now on, Old Benjamin and Boxer called the farm, "Equal Farm", and they wouldn't have a leader, everyone was going to work according to their capacity and share the productions, an animalism should be from the beginning. 

The  first 3 days of the new farm were great. They took off those days to relax, because they were working a lot before, and also because on the previous day, some animals started  to feel down again. As happened to Muriel and Squealer, they also died on that day, the virus wasn't over and started killing people in only 1 day. Desperate, the remaining animals didn't know what to do, and it was just a matter of time before they died as well. 

[hunting-destiny]

Do they believe in fate? Do they believe they are a victim of fate/how much control do they believe they have over their life?

Shay and Leela both don't believe in fate. They believe their actions are what makes things happen. They choose to act certain ways and whatever comes from it is what it is.

Vianna doesn't want to believe in fate but she does feel she was chosen for a reason, being The Guardian, The Young Wolf, etc, and having Traveler given visions cements that in her. She feels she needs to protect humanity and has been given the abilities to do so, so no matter what she wants in life, she has come to terms that she doesn't get to be overtly selfish. She HATES that fact, and will do almost everything she can to go against it, but at the end of the day, she does care about humanity and will still fight. No matter what happens to her. She just chooses to do it HER way, fate be damned.

Out of all the notable NPC's in Destiny, is Neza particularly close with anyone?

Neza was pretty close with Cayde, he had stepped in when they were just a new light to show them the ropes of being a hunter and how to have a little more fun getting the job done. It was a good excuse to get out of busy work. The two of them slid into a pretty easy Mentor/friendship.

More recently though they try to keep up friendly rounds when they're traveling. Check in with everyone and catch up a bit. Recent events reminded them just how impermeant things are and that they should cherish the bonds they have in case they get snuffed out.

They're particularly close with Crow, Saint, Eva, and Eris. Neza will always make time to visit them no matter what.

Returning the question :0 !!

#Neza loves to make friends they can just exist around #they love banter and talking but sometimes its nice to just sit and enjoy eachother's company without it being strange that there's no #conversation going on #and saint loves to come greet their flock whenever Neza docks at the tower #ALSO FAIR #THAT ONE WAS GETTING LONG #TIME FOR A NEW THREAD >:)

[twisted-funderland]

The Mystery Council

Recent rumors have been spread throughout campus about some sort of mystery council. Nobody really knows who’s in it or what the purpose is. Nobody has even managed to find this mystery council (or at least they don’t remember finding it). There is various speculations on how these rumors came to be. There is debate as to whether or not it truly exists.

Despite these rumors, there is a certain group of students who know the truth. They know because they are the ones running this Mystery Council using the secret tunnels throughout the campus. The purpose of this council: overthrow the current Dorm Leaders.

----

Every one of my OCs are in this council, except for Vianna, Sunny, staff members, and students from other schools.

They all have their own motivations for joining. There are those who have important roles in the Mystery Council.

Founder: Morgan Ashengrotto- He put the council together in the first place. He attends all the meetings. His motivation for creating this was became he did not like Azul being his Dorm Leader and wondered if there were others who felt the same about their Dorm Leaders and wanted to do something about it.

President: Francois Pyre- He was elected President by the other members. He oversees the meetings. (Book 1 Spoilers) You know how Riddle became looser with the rules after his Overblot? Francois did not like him being loose with the rules at all. That’s why he joined immediately when offered an invitation. He made Alphonse join too.

Vice President: Gigi Amaryllis- He became the Vice President because he got second place to Francois. He compromises with Francois if a decision needs to be made and there are opposing opinions. He joined the Mystery Council because he was jealous of Vil’s beauty and the respect he was given by the entire dorm.

Recruiter: Abdul Amir- He was the first one approached by Morgan. He accepted and carefully invited the other members. He had to be careful with his choices to make sure they weren't betrayed. (Book 4 Spoilers) His reasoning for joining is because he was Jamil's first friend in NRC and he also thinks that Jamil got cheated out of his position as Dorm Leader when Kalim arrived and instantly got appointed to Dorm Leader.

Informant: Ishir Kanan- He gathers any information that might be important and relays it to the council. Nagini is very helpful with this due to people talking in his day spa. The reason he joined is because he wants to prove that he is the strongest, even stronger than his Dorm Leader.

Peacemaker: Nagini Phani- He uses his unique magic in order to keep everyone calm because even in the Mystery Council there can be some pretty intense fights. As per the name he keeps the peace. He joined because he wants to help Ishir reach his goal because Ishir helped Nagini set up his spa.

Treasurer: Neander Abhiratha- His job doesn't require a lot of work, however if the council ever need to spend money for anything (tunnel repairs, uniforms, special materials, parties, lunch, ect.) he figures out the cost. How quickly everything can be paid for depends on how much everyone is willing to pitch in. Neander joined because he genuinely wanted to help Idia. He figured that part of the reason Idia feels stressed out so much is because of his Dorm Leader position. He sometimes worries if joining was the right decision. It didn’t turn out to be what he expected at all.

Head of Security: Sage Asterope- The Trick-or-Treat trio is all a part of the security for the tunnels. If an intruder stumbles upon the tunnels their job is to capture them and use Damien's unique magic to make the intruder forget they were ever there. Sage is in charge because he takes more of the leadership role and comes up with the best ideas. There is no special reason he joined. This is all just fun for the security team.

The rest of them are supporters. They do what they can to help out or go on special missions when they are needed. Supporters don't necessarily need to go to the meetings, but they're always invited. Those with important roles will inform those who didn't attend what happened in the meeting.

----

What happens in the Mystery Council is mostly discussions on how to overthrow the Dorm Leaders either individually or as a group. Their plans never seem to work. That doesn't stop them from trying though! By being very careful (and by having great security) they haven't been caught yet. Even if they are eventually caught having discussions of challenging Dorm Leaders is completely within the rules. Giving students amnesia is not, but nobody needs to know that. They would prefer to keep their plans secret though. They really don't need any of the dorm leaders finding out about their council.

----

I personally love the Dorm Leaders, however that doesn't mean my characters have to. I feel like these motivations and emotions add to their characters. Feel free to ask any questions!

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted funderland #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland original character #twst oc #twst original character #twst wonderland #twisted oc #Mystery Council #Morgan Ashengrotto #Francois Pyre #Gigi Amaryllis #Abdul Amir #Ishir Kanan #Nagini Phani #Neander Abhiratha #Sage Asterope

[amberlight-warcraft]

hey stinkers! I’ve been trying to doodle pretty regularly to get some practice in and get into the swing of things! I forgot to share those doodles here! These are all of Vianna in ascending order: An image of Vianna freshly after biting someone. This is less canon and more me wanting to draw something simple that focused on her fuckin teeth. She may be part human but she’s got fangs from her mother still and they work. An image of Vianna’s new arm from behind with detailed depictions of how the roots of the arm grow into what remains of her left arm and is growing towards her spine. This was mostly to explore how I want it to look on her. A doodle of Vianna who’s heard far too many jokes about splinters in her trip to Stormwind. This actually was done super quickly as I spotted some art in the wild and decided I wanted to try out the super simple style. thanks for reading!

#Vianna #doodles #vianna ironclaw #myart #my art #art #digital #sketch #warcraft #oc #daily practice

[shootingstar]

30 Days OC Challenge

I meant to post this yesterday but shit happens. I love this because it helps me flesh out my guardians more!

Day 1 - First meeting

Shay sighs heavily as she gets the missive that she will be paired up with two other random guardians for this strike. She is told by Zavala that the others will meet her on site so she begins checking her gear and weapons to make sure she is properly prepared for the icy moon of Europa.

When she touches down, the other two guardians are waiting for her, and as she walks up, she notices they are both hunters. She makes her way over to the two and as she does, the one with a golden hive stylized helmet, mounts their sparrow and races off.

Shay turns to the other hunter and catches the surprised stance that mimics her own.

“Well, hi I suppose?” Shay says to the other hunter who sports thick cold weather gear.

The hunter shakes their head as they return her greeting, “Heh, hey, guess we should go catch up?” his voice comes out muffled behind his helmet.

They two call their sparrows and race after the hunter as Shay’s ghost fills them in on their mission.

After explaining that the Vex are trying to make a foot hold within the Glassway, Shay and the other hunter, who introduces himself as Raylin over the comms, finally catch up to the first who is finishing off some fallen in their path.

“Hold Hunter! We should be going into this together!” Shay yells out to them and as their voice rings out over the cavern, she can see the hunter pause for a moment and their ghost appears next to them.

Shay and Raylin make their way over and as they do the ghost slams into their guardian’s helmet forcefully, causing the two to pause in surprise. They give each other a quick look as the ghost floats over to them.

“Please, forgive my guardian. She has been through here a lot lately and forgets that sometimes things should be done as a team, no matter how well she knows the place.” The ghosts says back to their guardian with annoyance.

Shay sees the other hunter turn away and cross her arms like a scolded child as she asks, “Commander Zavala said that Europa has been off limits, how does she know this area so well?”

“Vianna has clearance-“

“Wait! SHE is Vianna?” Raylin asks loudly.

Shay turns to the male hunter in question, but before she can say anything, Vianna throws her hands up in the air and stalks off down a tunnel.

“She says we don’t have time for this.” The ghost sighs. “Sorry, she isn’t into socializing much.”

Vianna tosses a rude finger gesture over her shoulder at her ghost and she disappears around a bend.

With another deep sigh, the ghost disappears and Shay and Raylin jog to catch up.

“Raylin, who is this, Vianna?”

“You don’t know her?” He asks incredulously.

At Shay’s admittance that she doesn’t he continues, “She’s the one who took down Gaul.”

“Her? No wonder why she has clearance for missions here.”

The three work together as they take down many fallen in their path and when they come to a large room with a lake of radiolarian, they are finally able to pause for a moment to catch their breath.

Shay turns to Vianna as she asks, “How long have you been on Europa?”

She shrugs and her ghost replies over their shared comms, “We have been working with Eris, Drifter, and Elizabeth Bray for almost two weeks now.”

“Bray? As in a family member of Ana’s?”

The fireteam is interrupted as shanks begin to pour in from both sides of them. They make quick work of the new wave of enemies and once they make their way to another room with another lake of radiolarian fluid, the ghost answers her question.

“Elizabeth Bray is the sister of Ana Bray, and also the granddaughter of the creator of the Exos, Clovis.”

Shay is taken aback slightly at the venom in the ghost’s voice at the mention of the man’s name.

However, no more is said when vex and two hydras begin to portal into the large room. The three fight well and are coordinated up until the end, when large vex, identified as wyverns, show up.

Shay casts a large bubble and the hunters rush to her as the influx of vex multiplies. However, Raylin gets cocky and rushes out once a wyvern closes in on their position. Intent on finishing the large vex, he misses the second one as it rises to the air and slams down upon him with a large crash, becoming the first casualty in their strike. Shay sees Vianna shake her head ruefully as she rushes out to lend his ghost aid to rez him. Seeing the two large vex zero in on the other hunter, she pulls out her Anarchy grenade launcher and runs after her, shooting arcing bolts on each of the vex, pulling their attention to her. Noticing her plan worked with the arcing current shooting from one to the other, she runs away from Vianna and the wyverns follow, their close proximity causing their health to drain from each other. Once Raylin has been brought back safely, Shay turns back to the large vex and finishes them off quickly with her shotgun. She rushes back to the others and the three take down both hydras and the rest of the smaller goblins and fanatics lingering about.

“Well done guardians. The vex have been stopped for today, but keep attentive, they will most likely try again.” A soft female voice that Shay doesn’t recognize, says over their shared comms.

“We will Elizabeth. Call upon us when you need us again.” Vianna’s ghost says.

Vianna walks to the center of the now empty pool of fluid and kicks open a chest that flings out glimmer at the action. Raylin bounces on his toes before rushing over to the other hunter

“Vianna, can…can I take a selfie with you?” he says down to the crouching hunter as she rifles through the contents of the chest.

She slowly turns her head to peer up at him and Shay can get the feeling he is being glared at from behind her visor. She stands stiffly and Shay rushes over to the two, feeling that something unpleasant is about to happen.

“Hey Raylin, I bet you that your clanmates would not believe who you were just on a fireteam with, Vianna being legendary and all.” Shay tosses her arm over the excited hunter.

“Holy light balls, you’re right! I gotta go!” Raylin instantly disappears and Shay drops her arm as Vianna turns to her.

Sensing Vianna’s ire is now directed at her, she turns to look at the hunter.

“Hey, I just-“

“Don’t.” her icy tone causes Shay to pause momentarily.

“What?”

Vianna is silent a moment longer and her ghost appears once more. “Like I said, she isn’t much for socializing. Sorry.”

“I was just going to tell her that she should rely on her fireteam more often. Rushing into things, especially a strike like this, is careless and unsafe.”

Vianna crosses her arms and looks away.

“I don’t care who you are hunter, but Commander Zavala made this a full strike; he has been around for a long time and his judgement is pretty sound.”

Vianna scoffs but doesn’t reply.

Shay furrows her brow and continues, “Even if you don’t agree, safety in numbers means we stay alive longer. Don’t forget that.” When she is still silent, Shay adds quietly, “I know how it feels to run alone; it’s nice for a while, but the loneliness can take a deep hold of you. If you ever need someone to watch your back, feel free to contact me.” Shay rests a light hand on Vianna’s shoulder, causing her to look at her.

The hunter is quiet but after a moment, she gives the titan a small nod. Shay feels her shoulders relax and she gives a quick squeeze before releasing her.

“Stay safe out there, Hunter.” Shay says kindly and calls her ghost and transmats away.

Left standing alone, Vianna’s ghost turns to her sharply, “She has a point.”

Giving a huff, she doesn’t reply but indicates her roster, showing that she now had a name gracing the once empty roster, Shay.

I'm also going to post these on my AO3 account too!

#destiny #my wrting #OC hunter Vianna #OC titan Shay Morgan #30 day oc challenge

[reeia]

How did I gained weight?

I’ve always been 51, 52, 53kgs. since like forever, I was underweight for my height. For the past years I did everything to gain, 1 year work out at a gym, lifting weights at home, jogging at the oval, joining fun runs, I have my multivitamins, eating well nutritious foods and nothing happened!

This is how I developed the negative programming of:

“I hate exercise and that it take too long to see results.”

This year I gradually start gaining weight until, I’m on my normal weight and correct BMI. I’m happy with it! Got my legs & butt bigger. :) and oh no, flab on my belly. I need exercise! Haha.

So I was thinking of what could be the real reason why I gained weight this year?

Jan-Feb: I took food supplements CoQ10 and Grape seed extract + vitamin C. These are recommended for anemia, I self medicate since I’ve had insomnia from playing too much mobile/ computer game.

CoQ10 - for heart health Grape seed extract - I also want the collagen from it. Vitamin C - apparently it slows down metabolism

I have Vitamin C on the multivitamins I'm taking for 9years up to now and yet it just this year that it took effect when I've finally know the meaning of self love and doing it for myself. 🫶

Quoting it from the book "Advance ThetaHealing" by Vianna Stibal. I can resonate with the latter. :)

I've had sessions with Sanaiyah during April - June and she really have anchored SELF LOVE on me. 🫶

LOL I have a record of my weight from garmin app since I'm happy to see it on the scale! :)

Flex ko lang haha. Cebu 2022. 53kgs. XD

#thetahealing #self love #gain weight

[fredborges98]

Bom dia!!!!

Por: Fred Borges

Faça parte do Clube de Leitura e receba artigos e capítulos do lançamento da minha autobiografia!

Contribuições mensais a partir de R$10,00( inclusive) até dia 20 de cada mês.

CPF/ PIX: 42297729553

Banco: Itaú 341

Agência: 3888

CC: 22197-9

Frederico Vianna Borges

Anotações: Clube de Leitura.

Observação: Enviar comprovante simultaneamente para: 55.71.984010101 e [email protected]

Good morning!!!!

By: Fred Borges

Join the Reading Club and receive articles and chapters from the release of my autobiography!

Monthly contributions from R$10.00 (inclusive) until the 20th of each month.

CPF / PIX: 42297729553

Bank: Itaú 341

Agency: 3888

CC: 22197-9

Frederico Vianna Borges

Notes: Reading Club.

Note: Send receipt simultaneously to: 55.71.984010101 and [email protected]

The lack of tradition.

What is time?

What makes family business history?

Solid word is tradition!

Makes me wonder who, why, and when the business was commenced.

All we wanted was to endure, to last, endurance was our name.

Prevailing among competition.

So we fought, battled struggle for our own lives,our stamina.

An open gap, fissure was led by economy.

It was 1929.

We had a small family businesses, my father, my mother, and me.

We lived the business, we slept, dozed, and smelled as same the products we vend in our store.

Sandwiches, meat, hamburgers,onion and garlic.

Tradition: the transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation, or the fact of being passed on in this way.

What your main vision, purpose, goal, mission,objectives, strategies, tactics in order to maintain, enhance, and just keep walking?

Succeed and succession, what puzzling words!

How value what is really valuable, beneficial, enriches the family owners?

Morality:principles concerning the distinction between right and wrong or good and bad behavior.

Ethics: moral principles that govern a person's behavior or the conducting of an activity.

It's about love!

Organizational culture : a set of beliefs and behaviors that guide how a company's management and employees interact and handle external business transactions. Corporate culture can have a huge impact on the fortune of a company and its employees.

A cultural DNA is a collection of genetic instructions used in the growth, development, functioning and reproduction of any culture. Whenever a group of people are together they form a culture.

A broken crystal glass.

A broken tradition.

Transparently clear; easily understandable. “a crystal clear explanation” synonyms: limpid, lucid, luculent, pellucid, perspicuous clear. readily apparent to the mind.

A crystal-clear edification- the idea of history of art main purposes is to supply moral uplift and edification"

Cutting edge:the latest or most advanced stage in the development of something.

How to survive in a cutting edge society?

Tradition, morality, transparency.

Disclose ideas.

Make salaries public.

Follow-up in promises.

Build trust with your employees by bringing your whole self to work. Don’t put on a façade; let people see the real you. You can form relationships with everyone in your company when you talk about your life. This will allow others to do the same, creating a culture of trust in your workplace.

It's about credibility, faith, self confidence, and enhances the trust!

Criteria or Criterion?

Criteria is typically a plural noun referring to standards on which a judgment can be made. Its singular is criterion.

A leader criterion must be the corporation criteria.

Brainstorm and Brainwriting?

Both!

Dialogue has to be always around the clock and in the environment.

Keep ideas alive!

Keep practices alive!

Keep silence alive!

Wrong is alright !

Keep learning!

Keep reading all way through!

People must prevail ,succeed and flourish!

Every day is time and tune to do a Premier!

Keep creativity and innovation bond to people, time, places and tendencies!

Study Case.

MENDEL GOLDBERG FABRICS NYC

72 Hester Street NYC 10002 Tel: [phone]

NEIGHBORHOOD JOINT | LOWER EAST SIDE.

A Turnover of Fabrics.

By ALEX VADUKUL

Published in the New York Times: March 10, 2011

THE bulky cash register at Mendel Goldberg Fabrics cannot register sales above $999.99 without a little tinkering.

Large sums must be broken into smaller amounts, which are entered separately.

Such were the times in which this register was made, an era when four-digit figures were rarely spent.

Alice Goldberg Wildes, the fourth generation of the Goldbergs to run the store, insists that they will get a computer soon. She never seems to get to it.

Whether the presence of a computer would disrupt the harmony of this preserved part of the old Lower East Side is a mystery.

This small, last-of-its-kind store, near the corner of Hester and Allen Streets, has not left family hands since Mrs. Wildes’s great-grandfather, Mendel Goldberg, founded it when he arrived from Poland in 1890.

The store is a junglelike collection of fabric-filled shelves covering entire walls. There are woolens in every color, beaded laces that sell for as much as $1,600 a yard, and uncommon fabrics that the store’s four staff members can identify with a quick glance. (Uniqueness)

In the basement, off-season and overstock fabrics are stored beside unsold fabrics from as far back as the 1950s.

It is one of the few stores in the city to specialize solely in fine imported European textiles.

Mrs. Wildes, who is in her 50s, personally buys all fabrics on trips to Europe. She closely guards the identities of the suppliers she visits. “I have formed these relationships over many years,” she says of her contacts. “You cannot buy what I have anywhere else in the city.”( Differentiation)

Her customers — costume designers from Broadway shows, rabbis from Brooklyn, uptown socialites — come to Mendel for exclusive fabrics that will become theirs alone.

On a recent afternoon, Mrs. Wildes helped one of her regular clients (an Upper East Side socialite) pick out fabrics for four suits and a cocktail dress. Mounting piles of French bouclé and bright Italian silk print surrounded them. They engaged in a dance for almost an hour: The client would excitedly point to fabrics that allured her; Mrs. Wildes would pull them, spread them across the client’s chest and then, usually, sternly say “no.” Rebuttals sometimes ensued at length but often ended with the client ceding to Mrs. Wildes’s judgment. “I have made very few mistakes here,” the client said. “Very few.”( Costemisation or Taylor Made Strategy)

“I like everything to be classy,” Mrs. Wildes said of the fabrics in her store, “but it has to have a kick. I buy what I like.”

The client nodded. ��She buys what she likes.”( Freedom of Options).

“I never buy for price.” “She never buys for price.”,(Valorization)

Mrs. Wildes’s father, Samuel Goldberg, sat quietly on a nearby table piled high with tubes of fabric. Standing by him was Bruce Jackson, his right-hand man of 20 years.

Mr. Jackson started running errands for Mr. Goldberg when he was a boy living in the neighborhood.

Louis Ortega, who was helping Mrs. Wildes pull fabrics for the client, started around the same time. “We have fights here all the time,” Mr. Jackson said, “just like a family.”

Mr. Goldberg still runs the store with his daughter, who focuses on buying and selling. “Each Goldberg has done something slightly differently with the store,” he said.

Mendel Goldberg primarily sold tailoring supplies, catering to the Lower East Side trade popular in his time.

His son, Alexander Goldberg, began the store’s transition into selling fabric, but not of the luxury sort.

Samuel Goldberg turned the store into a major supplier for department stores around the country. Mrs. Wildes was responsible for the store’s entrance into fine imported fabrics.

“When my father asked me to start running the store, I didn't know what to do,” she said. “I’m an Upper East Side girl, so I just did what I knew. I bought for the store like I bought for my closet.”

Featured Articles:

This Tight- Knit Jewish Family has Run Mendel Goldberg Fabrics Since 1890, by Jewish Telegraphic Agency

Where I Work: Mendel Goldberg Fabrics has been outfitting the Lower East Side for 130 years, by 6sqft

First-Ever Susan Alexandra Store - A Tribute to Lower East Side’s Jewish History, by Jerusalem Post

Featured Media

Family tradition is tightly woven at Mendel Goldberg Fabrics on the Lower East Side by CBS New York

The Neighborhood Joint by New York Times

Mazel Tov! מזל טוב!

[andrastesflamingknickers]

Atop This Mountain; A Hero Is Born (4/4)

The Inquisition of Old

Obligatory AO3 Link

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It was just at the break of dawn, as the first rays of the morning sun crested over the horizon, that Cian rose from his seat on the edge of Athim’s aravel, his knives sharpened, a bow sat beside him, the quiver now full of arrows. Ready to hunt, to bring back whatever game the Green Dales would provide. Other hunters lingered around the camp, some perched atop other aravels, others on vantage points surrounding the camp, bows ready and eyes searching for any sign of danger. They had only just arrived but a day ago, and the clans safety was still uncertain.

Others of the clan were moving about. The hunters and warriors had been awake for an hour, but the rest of the clan rarely woke before dawn. Mothers lulled their children to wake, though a few of the younger ones were already running around, enacting the battles the hahren told them each night by the fire, of Emerald Knights and Arcane Warriors, fighting to keep the people safe. Some of the older members were, sluggish as one was in the morning, getting ready to work, some going over supplies to find out what they had, and what they would need the hunters to gather.

He caught pieces of dirty jokes over pairs who seemed to have been getting closer, of arguments over stolen blankets, or complaints of misplaced tools needed to repair a loose wheel.

Sitting by one of the fires was Athim, sitting on an old stump and nursing a warm drink in her hands as she watched the tendrils of flame dance. Their Keeper was off to the side, conversing with her First; a young, scrappy girl no older than twelve, her face clean of any blood writing. She’d come to the clan only a year ago, sent from Avenus after her magic began to manifest. She was nice enough, and had had become a part of the clan so seamlessly that one would have thought she was born there. She listened to and took in everything Deshanna said like a sponge soaked in water.

A few of the hunters were gathered around Sulvin’s table, replacing dulled hunting knives with something sharper, or a new bowstring for their bows before they left.

The aravel creaked behind him, and hands landed on his shoulder, pressing down, “Good morning, Cian!” Renan greeted loudly as she stood where he had just been seated, leaning her weight on him, stretched out in the air. She laughed as she did so, giddy, melodical.

Cian grinned, and moved just slow enough that she could detached from him and not fall from the aravel. “Aneth ara,” he greeted in return, watching as his friends long, brown hair flowed in the gentle air. His grin turned crooked, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing all the way here? Shouldn’t you be helping Vianna with the halla, or has she still have you banned from feeding them?”

“Psh! It was one time!” the woman complained with a pout. “It’s not like the herd is as large as it was, either, not since we gave half our halla to clan Sabrae, harder to make that mistake again with fewer halla to keep track of.”

He raised a brow, “That doesn’t sound like something the Halla Keeper’s apprentice should be saying.”

She just rolled her eyes before reaching into her satchel, moments later she was tossing him an apple. “I’ll be going back to help her in a bit, I just wanted to check up on you before you set out. You probably haven’t even eaten anything yet—and you know that’s just asking for a poor hunt if you’re distracted by hunger.”

“It makes for a better hunt,” Cian countered, but he took a gracious bite from the fruit regardless and watched the clan. He spotted a younger elf lingering by a warrior, watching with longing, and nodded in his direction. “Fenvas is still getting his vallaslin tonight, right?”

“As far as I know, haven’t heard anything about it being pushed back,” Renan agreed as she followed his gaze. “He’ll make a good addition to the warriors, he’s already bigger than most them.”

“Size isn’t everything.”

“Of course the pipsqueak would say that!”

Cian shoved her, but it only made Renan burst into laughter. As annoying as the remark was, he couldn’t help but offer a slight grin as well. It was hard to stay mad at her.

The laughter slowly stilled as Keeper Deshanna approached, her aged face full of warmth, a gentle smile on her face as she watched him. “Garas quenathra, Cian?” she asked kindly, her arms folded together into her sleeves, and Cian felt his own smile falter.

“I—I’m sorry?” he asked. Why was he here? That made no sense, where else would he have been. “Sorry, Keeper, I don’t quite understand.”

Her smile widened; flickers of green started to brush against the blue sky. “You’ve done your clan proud, da’len,” Deshanna said as she reached out to rest her hand on his arm. “You saved us. You saved everyone, and we could not be prouder of you. Have no regrets, Cian, and let your spirit rest.”

The rest of the clan had stopped conversing, stopped working. Hundreds of eyes fell on him as their faces blurred and merged. Only the Keeper and Renan remained beside him, remained themselves.

Renan smiled, soft and sad, and held her hands out. In one was an elegantly carved oak staff. The other held a cedar branch. She carefully placed them both into his unwilling hands. “Ma serannas, Cian, for being my friend. Falon’Din mala ghilana mir din’an.”

He tried to drop them, but couldn’t, his fingers frozen around the wood. “Renan, Keeper, I’m—I’m not dead,” he tried to plead, but a look at his own arms and—and he was translucent. There, but not. A ghost.

Cian reached for them again, only to slip and fall to the ground, into the ground. A hole—a grave.

“Falon’Din enasal enaste,” Keeper Deshanna recited as she raised her hand, tracing symbols in the air over him as faceless elves shoveled dirt onto Cian. “Sleep, now, da’len, and may the Dread Wolf never find your trail.”

Cian woke with a start, panting for breath as he sat up. His chest was heaving, and his clothes damp with sweat. It was just a dream, he told himself, though the panic did not subside. A dream, and nothing more. He was here, he was alive.

He was alive.

How was he even still alive?

Still heaving for breath, Cian slowly looked around. The room was warm, a fireplace on one wall carried a small, flickering fire. The smells of the room were foreign, but the pain was familiar—and everywhere.

Not just his hand or arm. His whole body ached.

But it wasn’t as sharp, it wasn’t as burning or disorientating as it had been. It was something tolerable. He… he could live with that. The pain didn’t make him wish for death, at least, so that was something.

Letting his eyes adjust, he slowly looked around his surroundings. He was clearly not with his clan, not anywhere Dalish. A human settlement, maybe? An alienage—no, it looked too nice and to be an alienage house. It certainly wasn’t the prison cell he had first woken to. He was even on a bed. Talk about an upgrade! It was a rather cozy little home abode, by the looks of it. An old desk sat in a corner with papers and ink, a box for belongings, a coat draped over a hook on the wall. There were books and rugs, and everything of warm colors.

He was rather… surprised, to put it mildly, that this was where he woke up to. There weren’t even ropes or chains to keep him from leaving. Cian was still a prisoner… right?

Running a hand through his hair, he looked up at the sound of scuffling on the wood, and caught sight of a young elf, maybe thirteen at best, coming in through the door. The only door, as far as Cian could tell. The girl was humming a tune, and carried a box that, while sizable, didn’t look particularly heavy.

That same box crashed to the floor, followed by the sound of glass shattering within, when the girl looked up and saw Cian, letting out a loud, startled cry as she backed away. Absolutely terrified. Cian wasn’t sure what the girl had been told of him to cause such a reaction.

“O-oh, I, my apologies!” the girl said, her voice carried an accent Cian didn’t recognize. She looked as frightened as a mouse, ready to flee, wanting to flee. “I didn’t know you were awake; I swear!”

Cian shifted on the bed, he pushed the blankets aside, grateful he was dressed in something, even if it was not the clothes he’d worn when he was last conscious. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured the girl, finding his own voice rough and hoarse. How much time had passed for it to be so dry from disuse? “I only just woke—”

To his absolute horror, in the most bizarre and downright unsettling moves Cian had ever seen be done to him; the girl dropped to the floor on her hands and knees, and pressed her head down to the wooden planks of the floor. She was bowing—oh, Creators, the girl was prostrating. To him.

“I beg your forgiveness and your blessing,” the girl pleaded, breathless, her head just inches away from the box she had dropped, a desperation to his voice, terrified of what Cian would do—as if Cian would do anything to her “I am but a humble servant.”

This has to be a dream—a damned nightmare! Cian thought, watching the girl, horrified at the sight of a fellow elf bowing to him like he was something to worship. He was nothing, nobody. Cian was just a bloody hunter! “Where,” he started, and swallowed thickly. “Where am I?” he asked, carefully broaching the question, worried that one wrong word would send the girl running away.

The girl lifted her head to look at Cian, before dipping it away just as fast, like it was some kind of crime to look up at him. “You’re back in Haven, my lord,” the girl answered, her body trembling as she added in a rush, “They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand.”

Shit! The mark! Despite it all, Cian had nearly forgotten it, unbelievable with how much trouble it had been causing him.

He raised his hand and looked to his palm. The mark was still there, and it glowed in response to him, as if wielding its own sliver of sentience. But it was—smaller wasn’t quite the right word. It was still there, a long green line like a wound still healing, with green veins spidering out from it. But the spread stopped just past his wrist, faint, green cracks along his skin.

It ached, yes, and Cian suspected that was something that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. But it wasn’t anywhere close to the agony it had caused before. That was a good sign, as far as he could tell.

“It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days.”

Cian looked back to the girl immediately. Three days? Had it really been three days? His stomach twisted, nervous knots tightening inside of him. “Then… are we safe?” he asked.

The girl hesitated, and Cian knew the answer, even before she put a voice to the words. “The Breach is still in the sky, but that’s what they say,” she confessed, and Cian felt disappointment crash over him.

He hadn’t succeeded. Not completely. That wasn’t good—wasn’t what he wanted. He’d failed. He had one job, and he failed it.

Afraid of the darkening mood, the girl scrambled to her feet, her head remained bowed even as she scurried backwards, putting distance between herself and Cian. “I’m certain that Lady Cassandra can tell you more. She wanted to see you when you’ve awakened,” she offered, gripping her hands tightly together. “She said ‘at once’.”

If Cassandra could tell him more of what was going on, then Cian had no reason not to go and find her. And where might I fight her?” Cian asked, carefully pushing himself off the bed, satisfied that he was steady on his feet.

“In the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor,” the elf stammered, still backing away, terrified of him. “’At once,’ she said, ‘at once’.” With that, she turned and ran out the door, slamming it shut behind her in her mad scramble to get away.

Alone, again, Cian shook his head. Too much was going on, but he at least had a few moments to sort through his own mess of thoughts and try to work out what happened, and maybe what was going on. Cassandra already waited three days for him to wake, she could wait a few minutes longer for him to get his bearings.

Plus, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to deal with the Roderick fellow.

A few minutes were spent rummaging around the room, and he found little more than a handful of coppers and some twine that he stuffed in his pocket.

There were a lot of papers on the desk, and Cian skimmed through most of them. One of them talked about what sounded like medical jargon, and he could only assume it was meant to be about him, but he paid it no mind in the end, either. It ultimately made no sense to him, so he found no reason to add it to his growing list of anxieties.

The pressing question was simple; was he still a prisoner? The girl had looked upon him with such fear that he might as well have been an Archdemon for all the difference it made. Was this just a moment of kindness, and he was going to be cast in irons as soon as he reached Cassandra, shipped off to Val Roy-whatever to be killed like the Chancellor demanded, her promise of a ‘fair trial’ be damned?

He found it hard to believe that whatever he managed to do with the Breach would have absolved him of any suspicion and blame.

The Breach was not gone. Was it to be as Leliana had said; they would remain in Haven to figure out what their next course of action at sealing the Breach would be? It couldn’t be as simple as Oh, that didn’t work, let’s try this instead, could it?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Reaching the hook on the wall, Cian took the coat waiting. It was a bit big on him, but it would work to stave off the chill of Haven. There was a green and brown satchel that had been hidden under the coat on the hook. His satchel. Cian felt a rush of satisfaction to see it. It had been a gift, handmaid, from back in the clan, and he would have loathed to have lost it.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he gave one final once over of the room, to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. There were no daggers, or knives, or any sort of weapon to be found. Understandable, they wouldn’t want to leave their prisoner armed.

“Best not keep the scary lady waiting,” Cian murmured to himself, steeling his nerves as he opened the door and stepped out into the cold, morning air.

Standing outside from the door were two soldiers facing him. Heads bowed; closed fist crossed over their chest. Beyond them were crowds of people lining the dirt path. Soldiers on either side, heads lowered with the same gesture.

Wait, Cian knew that gesture. He’d seen the soldiers to that to Cassandra, to Leliana. They were… saluting? Him?

He turned behind himself, just to make sure there wasn’t someone important in his shadow, but—no. He was alone. They were definitely saluting him. Was this a dream—it had to be, yeah, he was dreaming. Otherwise, he truly did not understand what happened to make human soldiers salute a Dalish elf, one they had held in custody under suspicion of murdering the damn Divine just three days ago.

Beyond them, he could see the Breach still in the sky. Swirling and green—but calm. It was still a glowing, green hole in the sky, an open door for demons, but it was no longer the eye of a storm. No crackling lightning or earth-shattering thunder. It was just… there.

It wasn’t a good thing, but it was an improvement to how it looked when he first woke up.

Cian looked from the sky when he realized people were murmuring, and he realized that it wasn’t just soldiers who were standing outside the house. Behind the line of guards were people. Just normal, everyday people. Staring at him, gawking, whispering. The tones both awed and scandalized, and just… afraid. Like the elf girl. They didn’t know who—what he was.

Swallowing, Cian walked, One step, then two. Whatever was going on… he wasn’t going to be afraid. He wasn’t going to let them know he was afraid. He was a hunter of Clan Lavellan, a proud Dalish elf.

Squaring his shoulders, keeping his head raised high, Cian walked to the two soldiers who had been at the front, directly in front of his house waiting for him to come out—and just how long had they all been waiting, anyway? He probably shouldn’t think too hard on that.

“Hello,” Cian greeted the two, his tone chipper despite his racing heart. “I was told to speak to Cassandra in the Chantry, where might I find that?” Because, while it made sense that Haven had a Chantry, he had no idea what to look for, how to identify the building.

“Of course,” one soldier nodded, turning from Cian to point further away, to a building that seemed to tower above the others. “You will find the Chantry there. Sister Leliana had suspected you would need aid, and so the soldiers have made a path for you,” he added, and motioned to the lines of soldiers further down.

The sight just made Cian want to run back inside and not come back out, but he couldn’t do that. So, he just nodded, offered his thanks, and began walking.

He kept his head up, he nodded to a few as he passed, he smiled. He did everything to mask how frightened he was as he walked, to act as if this was all perfectly normal and not something to be concerned about.

People continued to whisper as he spoke, and though he wasn’t actively trying to eavesdrop. he heard many mentions of a Herald… or maybe they were just saying Harold? That could be, too. It wasn’t his business, Cian told himself, don’t get involved. Just get to the Chantry, figure out what else he had to do so he could go home.

“That’s him.” Someone whispered, loudly, though he couldn’t make out who in the crowd said it, everyone seemed to have been pointing and gawking that they blended together.

“They say that when he stepped out of the fade, Andraste herself was watching over him! That She sent him to us!” someone else spoke up—and were they talking about him? Oh, Creators, they were talking about him.

“Shush! We shouldn’t disturb him!” Another hissed, and Cian couldn’t agree more. Just please, for the love of all that was holy, stop talking.

“That’s him, innit?” Someone else spoke further down the line, between a line of tents. “He stopped the Breach from getting any bigger.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to close it entirely?” Disappointed and confused as opposed to the awe of the others.

“Still a lot of rifts left all over. Like little cracks in the sky.” A woman mused over the rippling, hushed chatter.

Someone responded to her quickly enough. “He can seal those too, though. The Herald…”

“He stopped the Breach, power given to him by the Maker Himself.” Now that made him shudder and flinch. He was Dalish… mixing in the Maker and Andraste felt weird. But he couldn’t say anything, not to them. That was asking for trouble.

All throughout it the soldiers kept a solid line, a shield between him and the crowds, making an easy-to-follow route through the small little town—and small it was. Little houses, plenty of tents, and one tavern that he could tell. He was surprised by how quaint it all looked, and honestly? He could have easily seen his clan living content lives in a settlement like this.

Eventually, though, he reached the Chantry, identifiable by the number of sisters and brothers standing about outside its doors as they murmured and talked to themselves. “Chancellor Roderick says the Chantry wants nothing to do with him, or with us,” one whispered, her voice full of fright. The girl beside her reached out to touch her arm, and assured her that Roderick had no say in the matter.

Two guards stationed on either side of the doors opened them when Cian approached.

He was met with the smell of incense filling the air, of herbs and the musty scent of old books. It all made him feel dizzy in the head for a moment, but only for a moment before he recovered. The building itself was beautiful, it felt like an injustice to deny it that much. Simplistic, yet elegant.

Vaulted ceilings, smooth arches. Stone floors and stone walls, with red rugs and numerous torches and candles keeping it all alight. There were seats of course, a few with little prayer books by them; chairs and stools, and a few doors on either side.

At the end of the long hall were the Chantry banners, beside statues of a woman, Andraste, he could only assume.

Even though he was Dalish; Cian knew the Chantry. Not intimately, not by any means. But he knew enough of the lore and myths, and he knew enough of the worship to know that the building being so empty was unusual. Alien. It felt wrong, and Cian hated the uneasiness that came with it all. A building such as this should have been bustling with sisters and worshippers, not... this.

It was the door at the very end that he figured he was to go through. Not by any distinguishing markings or helpful people to point to it. No, his only base of assumption was through the rather obnoxious arguing that he could hear from the opposite side of the building. Still, though, Cian hesitated. He lingered by the door to listen, to get a sense of the mood, of what to expect.

Of course, none of it was good.

“Have you gone completely mad?” the familiar, outraged voice of Roderick hollered, his voice echoing against the stone. “He should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately, to be tried by whomever becomes Divine!”

“I do not believe he is guilty,” Cassandra, and he was surprised by how certain she was in that claim. Touched, even. From declaring him guilty on the spot, ready to cut him down, to now defending his innocence, what growth in such a short amount of time. Impressive, really.

“The elf failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky,” Roderick pressed, and it made Cian falter—because he was right. Cian had failed. The Breach, though calmed and pacified, was still there, and who knew how long it would remain still? It took everything he had—it nearly killed him!—and he still failed. “For all you know; he intended it to be this way!”

Untrue, Cian wanted to yell. He never wanted any of this, not the mark, not a hole in the sky, and he sure as hell did more than Roderick trying to fix everything, so how fucking dare he continue to accuse him like that!

Fueled on by anger, Cian pushed the doors open loudly and marched in, his shoulders squared, and chin held high. He scanned the room, a massive table full of papers and scrolls, numerous candles. Cassandra and Leliana on one side, a pair of guards at the doors, and Roderick—Cian’s gaze locked on him immediately—at the head of the table.

“Chain him!” Roderick demanded of the guards as he pointed at Cian. “I want him prepared for travel to the capital for trial!”

“Disregard that, and leave us,” Cassandra countered immediately. Her voice was firm, but unlike Roderick, she wasn’t screaming her head off to make her point heard. The guards saluted and went, shutting the doors behind them and making it clear who in the room had their loyalty.

Being alone in the room with the three of them didn’t make him feel any less anxious, but Leliana’s warm expression and silent greeting helped him keep his mask of control on, helped him keep a tight chain on his nerves.

Glowering at the closed door, Chancellor Roderick let his gaze fall to Cian, and then to Cassandra as he approached her. “You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” he warned, and Cian decided that he liked the man even less than he already did. It was amazing how much Roderick was wracking up disapproval points in such a short amount of time. Truly a record.

Cassandra held his gaze, and the ferocity in her eyes was far, far more intimidating than anything the Chancellor had to offer. “The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat,” she said, giving Cian another stab of guilt over his failure, and her expression sharpened impossibly more. “I will not ignore it.”

“I did everything I could to close the Breach,” Cian reminded as he approached the table, crossing his arms over his chest as he let his gaze linger on Roderick for a few moments longer. “It almost killed me.”

Roderick shifted to face him; his face twisted in ugly disgust. “Yet you live,” he accused, clearly, oh so clearly disappointed by that one detail. “A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned.”

“Have a care, Chancellor,” Cassandra said, her tone warning. “The Breach is not the only threat we face.”

Because of course it wasn’t. Cian wanted to ask what it was, what other threat could they have to deal with along with the Breach. But he didn’t need to in the end. Leliana approached, her gait graceful and silent, answering his questions before he even asked them.

Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect,” she noted, standing beside Cassandra, and watching Roderick. “Perhaps they died with others, or have allies who yet live.”

Cian was impressed how Leliana’s words were deadlier than any knife or arrow he’d seen.

The cherry to top it all off was how Chancellor Roderick reeled back, his face shocked at the unspoken accusation. “I am a suspect?” he demanded, absolutely offended by the notion.

And really, Cian was honestly just as surprised. He wouldn’t have thought any of the humans would point to someone in the Chantry and accuse them of a crime as horrible as this. As much as Leliana scared him, he certainly liked her and her boldness. There needed to be more people like that, as far as he was concerned.

“You, and many others,” Leliana answered simply.

“But not the prisoner?” Roderick screeched in outrage, gesturing wildly at Cian.

Cassandra shook her head, “I heard the voices in the Temple,” she pressed, and by her tone, it sounded like she had gone over this many times. “The Divine called out to him for help.”

The man’s grimace worsened, if that was even possible. “So, his survival, that thing on his hand? It’s all, what? Coincidence?” he demanded crossing his arms over his chest, pointing out how ridiculous it all sounded.

“Providence,” Cassandra said, and fuck, she sounded so sure of it. “The Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour.”

Cian swallowed sharply; his mask slipped as the shock hit him. The Maker. That was—what… how was he supposed to respond to a claim like that? He was a Dalish elf, he had his own pantheon of gods he was supposed to worship. The people of the Andrastian faith hated his people because their belief went directly against the Chant of Light’s whole ‘proselytization of all of Thedas’ plan. They lost their home because of their ‘heretical belief’, and now Cassandra was claiming he was their savior?

He wanted to laugh but…

Oh, Creators, he hated how much it made sense. The Beyond, the flaming woman—was that… was that actually Andraste? Could he… is what Cassandra was saying… true?

“You…” Cian started, nervously twitching his fingers. “You really think the Maker would send someone like…me?”

Cassandra nodded as she turned her attention to him, that sharpness in her eyes had softened. “The Maker does as He wills,” she said as way of answer, not that it did anything to quell the nerves and confusion Cian was confronted with. “It is not for me to say.”

“Even if that means a Dalish elf is Hischosen?”

She nodded, again as she turned to approach a table against the opposite wall, doing…something. He couldn’t see what. “Humans are not the only ones with an interest in the fate of the world,” and, dang, she was right. The Breach would affect everyone, no matter their faith or lack of. It really shouldn’t matter what he was, he supposed.

Still, though, it left him stranded in a sea of uncertainty.

And with a lot of things he’d need to unpack.

“The Breach remains,” Leliana continued, “and your mark is still our only hope of closing it.”

Chancellor Roderick growled at her. “This is not for you to decide,” he yelled, and Cian was more surprised he wasn’t stomping his feet yet. He certainly seemed the sort of shemlen who thought that being the loudest meant they were the ones in charge, that louder meant important.

His pathetic complaints were ignored, drowned out by the heavy thud as Cassandra returned with a tome larger than anything other book he’d seen before. She dropped it to the table, just narrowly missing the Chancellors fingers. By the leathers, the insignia, and the locks to keep it safe, it was clear it was an important book.

Cassandra ran a finger along the symbol on the cover. “You know what this is, Chancellor?” she asked, but did not give the man a chance to answer. “A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn,”

She advanced on the Chancellor, each step measured, yet so quick that he couldn’t just scramble away fast enough as he was backed into a literal corner. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order,” Cassandra declared, jabbing a finger into his chest with each proclamation. “With or without your approval.”

The air was thick. Cian didn’t need to be of their faith to know how her words looked. She was effectively saying that if the Chantry didn’t agree, it could stuff it. And really; Cian admired that, even if it scared the shit out of him.

Still, he half expected Roderick to do something. The man looked from Cassandra to Leliana with righteous fury written on his face. But there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t physically confront Cassandra, and he had no real authority over her in any sense of the word. He was essentially powerless within the room.

After several long, agonizing moments, the man gave them all one final look of disgust before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

With him gone, the air in the room relaxed. Only a little. There was still a tension to it all, a wire pulled taut, with no knowing of what would happen if it broke. No one said anything, not for the longest moment.

Eventually, Leliana broke it as she circled the table to the book, her eyes on Cian the whole time, as if she knew he had questions. She probably did. There was no reason for her to think that he would have any idea what the Inquisition was. “This is the Divine’s directive; rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos,” she said, running a hand down the cover as Cassandra rejoined them. “We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support.”

“But we have no choice,” Cassandra finished for her, and both turned to look at Cian. “We must act now. With you at our side”

Cian had questions; his questions had questions. Every word they said left him spiraling deeper and deeper into confusion and wonderment. “What even is the Inquisition of old?” he asked, latching on to the first one he could.

“It preceded the Chantry,” Leliana said, and that gave Cian even more things to wonder. Preceded the Chantry, did that mean they were with Andraste, or her disciples, or… he wasn’t even sure how to think of it. “People who banded together to restore order in a world gone mad.”

Cassandra nodded and continued for her. “After; they laid down their banner and formed the Templar Order, but the Templars have lost their way.” she said, and boy did that not make him feel better about any of it. “We need those who can do what must be done. United under a single banner once more.”

Was he… Was Cian being asked to reform the group that attempted to massacre his people? He really did not feel all that great about it if that were the case. “You’re trying to start a holy war,” he said, before he could stop himself. His mind was still on stories of the massacre within the Dales, of the Exalted March that stole from his people the land they were promised.

“We are already at war, and you are already involved; it’s mark upon you,” Cassandra shot back, and… she was right. They were at war against the Fade, against the demons that came out from it. “Whether or not it is a holy one… that depends on what we discover.”

It was still a lot to take in, and it left Cian questioning so much of what he knew and believed, but underneath all the details and questions, the heart of it all was clear; close the Breach, save the world. Try not to die along the way.

He straightened his stance. “Well… when I woke up, I sure didn’t picture this outcome.” How could anyone have thought to be thrown into this kind of crazy? No one ever woke up and found ‘world about to end, you are possibly the only hope to save it’ on their list of things that would happen.

Cassandra stepped closer to him, offering him her hand. “Help us fix this,” she said—she asked him. “Before it is too late.”

He hated the pressure of it all. The weight of being responsible for so much.

But… it wasn’t as suffocating anymore. The Breach was stable, for now, and the mark wasn’t actively killing him. He wasn’t a prisoner, desperate to prove his innocence. It didn’t feel like everything was crumbling around him, where every second was vital to the survival of the whole world.

For some strange reason, Cian almost felt like they could do this. That he could do this. Perhaps their certainty was rubbing off on him.

Stepping forward, Cian took her hand. Whatever happened next, they’d do it together. “I’m in,” Cian said, squeezing her hand in his. They’d form this Inquisition, they’d close the Breach, and they were going to hunt down whoever was behind it, and make them regret it. That much he promised.

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age Inquisition #lavellan inquisitor #Fanfic #The Wrath of Heaven Quest #Inquisitor Cian #Cian's Adventures In The Inquisition

[viannaheus]

The seer.

#vianna talks #vianna works #markiplier #fanart

[amazoniaonline]

#Belém #Brazil #GovernoDoPará #Pará #PrefeituradeBelém

[levadamadeira]

ANSA/Orquestra Clássica da Madeira presents "Ensemble XXI" at Reid's Palace Belmond Hotel today at 21:30. "It is with the beauty of inspired musical creations that we bring our message to those who listen to us at our concerts. Today, Thursday, April 13th, at 9:30 pm, the ENSEMBLE XXI String Orchestra will perform at the beautiful and charming REID's Palace A Belmond Hotel. As for the repertoire, the choice falls on the inspired musical creations of the 18th and 20th centuries, namely Eine kleine Nachtmusik by W. Amadeus, 4 Jazz Songs by Edward Kennedy "Duke" Ellington and 4 Ragtimes by Scott Joplin. ENSEMBLE XXI, created within the Madeira Classical Orchestra, has the primary objective of interpreting works for small string orchestras by composers from the 19th century. Twentieth and Century XXI. Within the repertoire addressed by this group, we find national composers such as Joly Braga Santos, Vianna da Mota, European composers such as Turina, Britten, among others. In a lighter approach, Ensemble XXI has works by Scott Joplin and Duke Ellington in its repertoire, as well as approaching other periods in the history of music. Composed of elements from the classical orchestra's strings, ENSEMBLE XXI has already played in all venues in Madeira and Porto Santo. We count on your presence and, as always, we are delighted to play for you with the joy and energy that is characteristic of us", emphasizes the artistic director of the Classical Orchestra of Madeira, Norberto Gomes. Tickets cost €15 and can be purchased at Reid's Palace reception. PROGRAM Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756 – 1791) - Eine kleine Nachtmusik I. Allegro II. Romance: Andante III. Menuetto: Allegretto IV. Rondo: Allegro Edward Kennedy "Duke" Ellington (1899-1974) - 4 Jazz Songs I. Creole love call II. Don`t get around much anymore III. It don`t mean a thing iv. solitude Scott Joplin (1868-1917) - 4 Ragtimes I. The Entertainer II. The Chrysanthemum III. Elite Syncopations IV. Cleopha Musicians: Yuriy Kyrychenko · Violin Elena Kononenko Violin Olga Proudnikova · Violin Vladimir Proudnikov · Violin Maxim Taraban · Violin Anahit Dalakyan · Violin Rostyslav Kuts · Viola Treneddy Maggiorani · Viola Stella Silvian Cello Mikolaij Lewkowicz Cello Marcello Romagnuolo · Bass Tiago Vaz · Bass

[zentoronto]

What Is Theta Healing & How Does it Work? Theta Healing is a prominent healing method which was created in 1995 by Vianna Stibal during her personal journey of healing from a leg tumor. According to the official Vianna Stibal ThetaHealing website, this method is a technique of meditation and a spiritual philosophy that is

[cosmicxhealingart]

Theta Healing: The Meditational Art

Theta Healing, founded in 1995 by Vianna Stibal, is a meditation and spiritual philosophy technique that is not specific to one religion but identifies all of them with a single aim of becoming closer to God, Universe, or Creator. Theta Healing technique claims that there are seven planes of existence that are so vast that understanding them requires the human mind to be in an abstract state. After attaining the Theta State of mind, a person can perceive these forces in all their majesty through Creator and transform all negative thoughts, beliefs, and emotions into positive ones. Let’s understand the concept of how Theta Healing works, whether it is the right choice, and what happens during the session.

How Does Theta Healing Meditation Help?

The purpose of practicing Theta Healing is to bring an individual’s mind into a deep state and then teach them how to ease their mental, emotional, and physical pain. People can create their reality and learn how everything happens in life for a reason.

Everyone has five fundamental frequencies in their brain: Gamma, Beta, Alpha, Theta, and Delta, where each works independently depending on the situation. Here, Theta is the dominant wave during meditation, hypnosis, or sleep. This frequency is scientifically proven to reduce stress and anxiety, improve mental clarity and creativity, lead to deep relaxation, minimize aches, and increase joy. In this technique, the brain enters this wave within minutes, and the individual works with the Creator based on their beliefs to improve their health.

Is Theta Healing the Right Option?

This Theta Healing meditation works excellent for individuals who are likely to hold some suffering and seek healing opportunities, get relaxed and enlightened. Through this meditation, a person will be able to:

• Get rid of addictions or habits • Reveal a better and more creative potential • Put an end to the phobias • Make a better spiritual connection • Be healthier in life • Cure any physical illness • Treats emotional trauma • It helps in making individuals feel confident about themselves • Manifest dreams and desires • Will grow harmonious relationships

If a person needs a change in their life, Theta Healing may work effectively for them and help cure illnesses and diseases. In short, this meditation gives a person the power to make their life work in a better way.

What Happens During the Session?

The session lasts for about half an hour to an hour, depending on the person’s problems. Their practitioner uses a tool called digging to define the critical beliefs that promote physical and emotional issues. This helps in removing the several layers of belief to get to the bottom.

As a result, it is believed that when this bottom belief is transferred, the remaining beliefs come after the change, and the person becomes free of limitations and doesn’t go through previous traumas.

Another way of determining specific beliefs is through muscle testing, which occurs with a person’s consent, where they can say “yes” and then proceed and get ready for the new reality. These sessions are done in a safe environment where the individuals and their practitioners can discuss all aspects of their lives that they would like to change or improve through Theta Healing.

Theta Healing is a highly successful practice that has made many people look for Theta Healing courses in Delhi. If a person wants to learn or practice this meditation technique from industry experts, they can visit Cosmicx Healing Art, which offers quality services. For more details, visit the website.

Original source Cosmicx Healing Art

#theta healing delhi