#Alone On Mount Silver [Gold and Silver verse]

[bills-bible-basics]

EARTHQUAKES IN THE BIBLE -- KJV (King James Version) Bible Verse List #Scriptures #BibleStudy #BibleVerses Visit https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/ to see more. "But if the LORD make a new thing, and the earth open her mouth, and swallow them up, with all that appertain unto them, and they go down quick into the pit; then ye shall understand that these men have provoked the LORD. And it came to pass, as he had made an end of speaking all these words, that the ground clave asunder that was under them: And the earth opened her mouth, and swallowed them up, and their houses, and all the men that appertained unto Korah, and all their goods." Numbers 16:30-32, KJV "And there was trembling in the host, in the field, and among all the people: the garrison, and the spoilers, they also trembled, and the earth quaked: so it was a very great trembling." 1 Samuel 14:15, KJV "And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the LORD. And, behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire; but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice." 1 Kings 19:11-12, KJV "Enter into the rock, and hide thee in the dust, for fear of the LORD, and for the glory of his majesty. The lofty looks of man shall be humbled, and the haughtiness of men shall be bowed down, and the LORD alone shall be exalted in that day. For the day of the LORD of hosts shall be upon every one that is proud and lofty, and upon every one that is lifted up; and he shall be brought low: And upon all the cedars of Lebanon, that are high and lifted up, and upon all the oaks of Bashan, And upon all the high mountains, and upon all the hills that are lifted up, And upon every high tower, and upon every fenced wall, And upon all the ships of Tarshish, and upon all pleasant pictures. And the loftiness of man shall be bowed down, and the haughtiness of men shall be made low: and the LORD alone shall be exalted in that day. And the idols he shall utterly abolish. And they shall go into the holes of the rocks, and into the caves of the earth, for fear of the LORD, and for the glory of his majesty, when he ariseth to shake terribly the earth. In that day a man shall cast his idols of silver, and his idols of gold, which they made each one for himself to worship, to the moles and to the bats; To go into the clefts of the rocks, and into the tops of the ragged rocks, for fear of the LORD, and for the glory of his majesty, when he ariseth to shake terribly the earth." Isaiah 2:10-21, KJV "Behold, the day of the LORD cometh, cruel both with wrath and fierce anger, to lay the land desolate: and he shall destroy the sinners thereof out of it. For the stars of heaven and the constellations thereof shall not give their light: the sun shall be darkened in his going forth, and the moon shall not cause her light to shine. And I will punish the world for their evil, and the wicked for their iniquity; and I will cause the arrogancy of the proud to cease, and will lay low the haughtiness of the terrible. I will make a man more precious than fine gold; even a man than the golden wedge of Ophir. Therefore I will shake the heavens, and the earth shall remove out of her place, in the wrath of the LORD of hosts, and in the day of his fierce anger." Isaiah 13:9-13, KJV "Fear, and the pit, and the snare, are upon thee, O inhabitant of the earth. And it shall come to pass, that he who fleeth from the noise of the fear shall fall into the pit; and he that cometh up out of the midst of the pit shall be taken in the snare: for the windows from on high are open, and the foundations of the earth do shake. The earth is utterly broken down, the earth is clean dissolved, the earth is moved exceedingly. The earth shall reel to and fro like a drunkard, and shall be removed like a cottage; and the transgression thereof shall be heavy upon it; and it shall fall, and not rise again. And it shall come to pass in that day, that the LORD shall punish the host of the high ones that are on high, and the kings of the earth upon the earth. And they shall be gathered together, as prisoners are gathered in the pit, and shall be shut up in the prison, and after many days shall they be visited. Then the moon shall be confounded, and the sun ashamed, when the LORD of hosts shall reign in mount Zion, and in Jerusalem, and before his ancients gloriously." Isaiah 24:17-23, KJV "Woe to Ariel, to Ariel, the city where David dwelt! add ye year to year; let them kill sacrifices. Yet I will distress Ariel, and there shall be heaviness and sorrow: and it shall be unto me as Ariel. And I will camp against thee round about, and will lay siege against thee with a mount, and I will raise forts against thee. And thou shalt be brought down, and shalt speak out of the ground, and thy speech shall be low out of the dust, and thy voice shall be, as of one that hath a familiar spirit, out of the ground, and thy speech shall whisper out of the dust. Moreover the multitude of thy strangers shall be like small dust, and the multitude of the terrible ones shall be as chaff that passeth away: yea, it shall be at an instant suddenly. Thou shalt be visited of the LORD of hosts with thunder, and with earthquake, and great noise, with storm and tempest, and the flame of devouring fire. And the multitude of all the nations that fight against Ariel, even all that fight against her and her munition, and that distress her, shall be as a dream of a night vision. It shall even be as when an hungry man dreameth, and, behold, he eateth; but he awaketh, and his soul is empty: or as when a thirsty man dreameth, and, behold, he drinketh; but he awaketh, and, behold, he is faint, and his soul hath appetite: so shall the multitude of all the nations be, that fight against mount Zion." Isaiah 29:1-8, KJV "And it shall come to pass at the same time when Gog shall come against the land of Israel, saith the Lord GOD, that my fury shall come up in my face. For in my jealousy and in the fire of my wrath have I spoken, Surely in that day there shall be a great shaking in the land of Israel; So that the fishes of the sea, and the fowls of the heaven, and the beasts of the field, and all creeping things that creep upon the earth, and all the men that are upon the face of the earth, shall shake at my presence, and the mountains shall be thrown down, and the steep places shall fall, and every wall shall fall to the ground. And I will call for a sword against him throughout all my mountains, saith the Lord GOD: every man's sword shall be against his brother. And I will plead against him with pestilence and with blood; and I will rain upon him, and upon his bands, and upon the many people that are with him, an overflowing rain, and great hailstones, fire, and brimstone. Thus will I magnify myself, and sanctify myself; and I will be known in the eyes of many nations, and they shall know that I am the LORD." Ezekiel 38:18-23, KJV "The earth shall quake before them; the heavens shall tremble: the sun and the moon shall be dark, and the stars shall withdraw their shining:" Joel 2:10, KJV "Proclaim ye this among the Gentiles; Prepare war, wake up the mighty men, let all the men of war draw near; let them come up: Beat your plowshares into swords, and your pruninghooks into spears: let the weak say, I am strong. Assemble yourselves, and come, all ye heathen, and gather yourselves together round about: thither cause thy mighty ones to come down, O LORD. Let the heathen be wakened, and come up to the valley of Jehoshaphat: for there will I sit to judge all the heathen round about. Put ye in the sickle, for the harvest is ripe: come, get you down; for the press is full, the fats overflow; for their wickedness is great. Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision: for the day of the LORD is near in the valley of decision. The sun and the moon shall be darkened, and the stars shall withdraw their shining. The LORD also shall roar out of Zion, and utter his voice from Jerusalem; and the heavens and the earth shall shake: but the LORD will be the hope of his people, and the strength of the children of Israel. So shall ye know that I am the LORD your God dwelling in Zion, my holy mountain: then shall Jerusalem be holy, and there shall no strangers pass through her any more." Joel 3:9-17, KJV "The mountains quake at him, and the hills melt, and the earth is burned at his presence, yea, the world, and all that dwell therein." Nahum 1:5, KJV "For thus saith the LORD of hosts; Yet once, it is a little while, and I will shake the heavens, and the earth, and the sea, and the dry land; And I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations shall come: and I will fill this house with glory, saith the LORD of hosts." Haggai 2:6-7, KJV "But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night; in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up." 2 Peter 3:10, KJV While some of the previous verses from the Old Testament may referring to future events at the time of Christ's Return, there is also Scriptural proof that some of the Prophets were writing of an actual physical event which occurred in the days of King Uzziah. We find clear proof of this in the following verses, where both Amos and Zechariah, two of the minor Prophets who lives at the time of the Babylonian captivity, speak of a great earthquake which occurred in Jerusalem: "The words of Amos, who was among the herdmen of Tekoa, which he saw concerning Israel in the days of Uzziah king of Judah, and in the days of Jeroboam the son of Joash king of Israel, two years before the earthquake." Amos 1:1, KJV "Behold, the day of the LORD cometh, and thy spoil shall be divided in the midst of thee. For I will gather all nations against Jerusalem to battle; and the city shall be taken, and the houses rifled, and the women ravished; and half of the city shall go forth into captivity, and the residue of the people shall not be cut off from the city. Then shall the LORD go forth, and fight against those nations, as when he fought in the day of battle. And his feet shall stand in that day upon the mount of Olives, which is before Jerusalem on the east, and the mount of Olives shall cleave in the midst thereof toward the east and toward the west, and there shall be a very great valley; and half of the mountain shall remove toward the north, and half of it toward the south. And ye shall flee to the valley of the mountains; for the valley of the mountains shall reach unto Azal: yea, ye shall flee, like as ye fled from before the earthquake in the days of Uzziah king of Judah: and the LORD my God shall come, and all the saints with thee. And it shall come to pass in that day, that the light shall not be clear, nor dark: But it shall be one day which shall be known to the LORD, not day, nor night: but it shall come to pass, that at evening time it shall be light." Zechariah 14:1-7, KJV "And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent; And the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints which slept arose, And came out of the graves after his resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many. Now when the centurion, and they that were with him, watching Jesus, saw the earthquake, and those things that were done, they feared greatly, saying, Truly this was the Son of God." Matthew 27:51-54, KJV "And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it." Matthew 28:2, KJV "And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened, and every one's bands were loosed." Acts 16:26, KJV "See that ye refuse not him that speaketh. For if they escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from him that speaketh from heaven: Whose voice then shook the earth: but now he hath promised, saying, Yet once more I shake not the earth only, but also heaven. And this word, Yet once more, signifieth the removing of those things that are shaken, as of things that are made, that those things which cannot be shaken may remain. Wherefore we receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear: For our God is a consuming fire." Hebrews 12:25-29, KJV "And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood; And the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind. And the heaven departed as a scroll when it is rolled together; and every mountain and island were moved out of their places. And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bondman, and every free man, hid themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains; And said to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb: For the great day of his wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand?" Revelation 6:12-17, KJV "And the same hour was there a great earthquake, and the tenth part of the city fell, and in the earthquake were slain of men seven thousand: and the remnant were affrighted, and gave glory to the God of heaven . . . And the temple of God was opened in heaven, and there was seen in his temple the ark of his testament: and there were lightnings, and voices, and thunderings, and an earthquake, and great hail." Revelation 11:13, 19, KJV "And the sixth angel poured out his vial upon the great river Euphrates; and the water thereof was dried up, that the way of the kings of the east might be prepared. And I saw three unclean spirits like frogs come out of the mouth of the dragon, and out of the mouth of the beast, and out of the mouth of the false prophet. For they are the spirits of devils, working miracles, which go forth unto the kings of the earth and of the whole world, to gather them to the battle of that great day of God Almighty. Behold, I come as a thief. Blessed is he that watcheth, and keepeth his garments, lest he walk naked, and they see his shame. And he gathered them together into a place called in the Hebrew tongue Armageddon. And the seventh angel poured out his vial into the air; and there came a great voice out of the temple of heaven, from the throne, saying, It is done. And there were voices, and thunders, and lightnings; and there was a great earthquake, such as was not since men were upon the earth, so mighty an earthquake, and so great. And the great city was divided into three parts, and the cities of the nations fell: and great Babylon came in remembrance before God, to give unto her the cup of the wine of the fierceness of his wrath. And every island fled away, and the mountains were not found." Revelation 16:12-20, KJV If you would like more info regarding the origin of these KJV Bible verse lists, go to https://www.billkochman.com/VerseLists/. Thank-you! https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/earthquakes-in-the-bible-kjv-king-james-version-bible-verse-list/?feed_id=245454&EARTHQUAKES%20IN%20THE%20BIBLE%20--%20KJV%20%28King%20James%20Version%29%20Bible%20Verse%20List

[timhatchlive]

When You Forsake God You Miss Out

Isaiah is teaching Israel that only in the Lord is there hope and strength. He is the one who made them and formed them, who loves them and can rebuild them and protect them. To abandon Him is unwise because it leads to self-destruction. 

Isaiah 31:1 (ESV) Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help and rely on horses, who trust in chariots because they are many and in horsemen because they are very strong, but do not look to the Holy One of Israel or consult the LORD!

A woe is proclaimed over those who would seek the power of Egypt against Assyria. The political maneuvering of Israel's leaders offered false hope. Yes, it made sense in the flesh, but it offered no true protection in the spiritual realm - the realm that determines what ultimately happens in the flesh. 

The next verse begins to unpack what God brings to our lives. 

Isaiah 31:2 (ESV) And yet he is wise and brings disaster; he does not call back his words, but will arise against the house of the evildoers and against the helpers of those who work iniquity.

He brings wisdom. He brings disaster. He brings faithfulness and justice. He is the God you want and the God you need.

In the next verse, God reveals that He alone is able to determine what happens. 

Isaiah 31:3 (ESV) The Egyptians are man, and not God, and their horses are flesh, and not spirit. When the LORD stretches out his hand, the helper will stumble, and he who is helped will fall, and they will all perish together.

The Lord's hand once drowned the Egyptians in the sea. And now Israel wants their help? How quickly we forget the Lord who saved us is the Lord who can sustain us!

Then Isaiah unpacks a personal revelation from the Lord.

Isaiah 31:4–5 (ESV) For thus the LORD said to me, “As a lion or a young lion growls over his prey, and when a band of shepherds is called out against him he is not terrified by their shouting or daunted at their noise, so the LORD of hosts will come down to fight on Mount Zion and on its hill. 5 Like birds hovering, so the LORD of hosts will protect Jerusalem; he will protect and deliver it; he will spare and rescue it.”

The Lord is not afraid nor intimidated by what intimidates us. He is undaunted by the terrors in your heart. Trust Him!

Isaiah 31:6–7 (ESV) Turn to him from whom people have deeply revolted, O children of Israel. 7 For in that day everyone shall cast away his idols of silver and his idols of gold, which your hands have sinfully made for you.

A final call is made by Isaiah to come back to Him. Even though there was rebellion in your past, there can be renewal in your future. God is ever gracious to His own. 

The greatest reason to stay near God is that He can do for you what everything you're giving Him up for cannot do. He alone can be God. 

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[champofpallet]

Marina?

@the-friendliest-of-anons

“M-Marina?” He had never heard that name before in his life. Was this a friend of hers? As he gets closer to her, Red notices that Nonny wasn’t wearing her mask. His face blushes a bit, not expecting her to be as cute as she was, but he kept the concerned look on his face regardless.

“H-Hey...y-you’re rememberin’ somethin’!” He leans down closer to her, draping a comforting arm around her shoulders. He worried for her, trying to bring back surpressed memories was hard...Red knew that all too well. “I’m not gonna let any bad people get you, I promise. I’m gonna protect you.” The trainer paused hearing her words, as if he was trying to process them in his brain carefully. Perhaps Marina was Nonny’s friend? Girlfriend? Something? But whoever she is, Nonny missed her a lot. “...do you remember the last place you saw her?”

[bk-poetry]

The Dangers of Kimberleigh

        “Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts because you can't have the one you want.”           ― Louisa May Alcott, "Little Women" I. When the morning demands you and I—         our ghosts shall pass empty resides, Against fields where lines opposing light, force and bind—         of Angel's breath and Dæmon's spine. Of shrieks louder than their first meeting's kiss—         residing now—perfection upon midnight's bliss, Abiding near the tender gardens upon the blinding dark—         creating haste of love-song made by grave Skylark. Who in joyous play—should cause collapse—

        towards serene, augmented lapse. Lapse of falling, of where gentle screams—         of every child that's ever been, Who stroke themselves against empty glass—         and where visions pray upon the grasp, Of wind—Of blinding—Of melody—         to hold faint—Immortality

II. This shall be where morning seeks—         no longer calming of beauty's cheek. Instead to lash with vain and hostile mount—         crimson over dashed and harsh doubt.   Until image engraved by forgiving rite—         speaking neglect of fiend or fiendish blight. In-versed—coole angelic heart to passéd—         passage beside Lilac's memory in mortal castéd. In the unwashed Earth, where the unwashed play—         'till they unfairly capture it from younglings— Away. Lonesomeness of watchtowers in gossamer's breast—         when airy words strangled from bless.    Reachéd by the hand—abide in fable—         quiet tho—in fruition, a single silver Maple. Shyly envisioned inside salvation's solitude—         where tenderness drowns tenderéd concludes.

III. The sister was lovely—inside my sight—         in our union—created Nature's first night. Through our throats rendered fragile lullaby—         which slaughtered silence and made soldiers cry. Her bristles—exploit in darkness—I could not see—         or merely recollect in memory. A mouth moving inside of mine—         creatures in mawkery of untouched divine. Eyes whom beatéd harder than the breeze—         to remind me—gently of the ease. Of being caught in cognitive stance.         which leaves surrender to in traditional, disciplined dance. Upon the backs of universal forestry—         and inside their stomachs to where we would meet. Offended to death by requiem—         made inside our faint dream's drum.

IV. Where dreamer's would lash upon in endless screams—         innumerable Rubies ruin'd before their first gleam. Upon reflection in lover's loss—         diminished to demise before their first gloss. It is upon the fool's finest end—         where lies his fantasy—condemned. The jester who remains as undefeat—         before death shall cause lacklustre retreat. Unaware tho, in current mode—         as body by body closely will hold. And messages of Gold conspire in streaks—         immersed—affection in mind eternally correlates oblique. Ringing and humming throughout what laid—         against blonde grass from Sin was made. Refraction's cast that betrayed—to promise me—         endless nights of haunting harmonies.

V. Held tightly in grieving borne—         broken—in new blood is sworn. Across the snow-cover'd Evergreens—         where the temptress grave is left unseen.  Not upon her kiss—did darkness fall—         alone—in shining pieces did crawl, Against creator—and thus creator hence—         bitter loving shrouded by bare defense. As her finite skin had laid eternal flesh—         of what laid inside Pine's parting mesh. Holding and crying out for uncertainty—        feelings moaned into sudden Mercenaries.

Morose and fledgling in their stand—         spiritéd to Death's light misunderstand, Of peerless eyes and broken brooks by the sea—         casting ruined cloth over our Evergreens.

VI. Unfurnished dawn may scour for length of furnished night—         quick—until mirroréd ebbed ocean does wrong. To consume the idles of Man's afraid mind—         fairest—lest His idles struck into divine.  Exclaiméd none tho, in archaic lust—         deceased—firmest in high robust. Where pleasure finds comforted pause—         inside arched-back in neglected cause. Betray the shallow grimace flee—         and ethereal composed by the breeze. Lies delicate delusion before sorrow—         that shall thieve away the Artist's morrow.

And in thievery is where the Angels lie—         angelic beasts with unlawful guise, In courts—castrated by the throat—         hardened in assumption by blackened elope.

[champofpallet-moved]

@aniahliepard

Aniah tilted her head to the side. Her head WAS throbbing for some reason. “M-maybe? I d-don’t know,” she said. She then began to hold her head. “R-red? Why does that sound so……. familiar?” she said to the stranger.

“Well I did let ya stay on my mountain for a few days...” Red comments as he feels her head. “Did ya fall down on the ice? What do you remember last?” The boy was concerned about his friend. He was going to do anything he could to get her memory back.

[guqin-and-flute]

Are You Here to Stop Me? (Peony to Lotus!verse)

[First post/Setting of Peony to Lotus]

[Ao3 Series]

The sky was dark with night and the storm by the time they reached QiongQi Way, rain pelting down like arrows into their faces until they were left nearly gasping from the stinging cold. As Lan Wangji landed Bichen, Jin Guangyao splashed off into the ankle-height slurry of mud and water, sheet white and knees nearly buckling--probably from flying through a sky filled with lightning and ear shattering thunder as much as the height. Lan Wangji should have inquired as to his well being, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t focus on anything but getting to the camp, finding Wei Ying, stopping him before he could do anything that would further ostracize him from the rest of the Cultivation World. 

From him.

In any case, the smaller man gathered himself upright and simply followed him as they climbed up the path, squinting through the rain and stunning flash-bangs of brilliant light, then utter darkness. There were people already fleeing down the rocky embankment, covered in blood and mud, eyes white rimmed, faces terrified and that icy clench around Lan Wangji’s heart tightened. Deftly, he caught a gold-robed man in his middle with Bichen’s sheath, demanded, “What happened?”

“Someone came to their rescue!” He babbled, pointing back the way he had come. “He resurrected the dead to kill people!”

The storm crashed in a sick parallel to the horror that flashed its way through Lan Wangji, and Bichen’s ornamentation cut into his palm. Jin Guangyao muttered something beneath the deafening hiss of rain--a curse, an exclamation, something in disbelief--Lan Wangji didn’t know, for he was already moving, taking the path to Wei Ying in long, ground eating strides, blood pulsing in his ears for every step, for every thought that was just one word repeated--no, no, no, no. He didn’t know exactly where the camp was, but he didn’t need to. He just followed the trail of escaping people, frantic from animal panic. Running from a predator. 

No. He musn’t think that. It couldn’t be too late to call him back. It couldn’t.

He stopped when he saw it, reached out to catch Jin Guangyao’s elbow when he nearly lost his footing to the thick mud--hulking, undulating shadows, moving down the path toward them, backlit in silver relief with every lightning flash through the sheets of pounding rain. The shadowy forms resolved themselves into horses, then people huddled on horses. A familiar, slim figure at their head, clad in black, burning in the night with a fierce purpose. It felt like fire just to look at him in such a state, eyes alight, face pale as death. Wei Ying. The Wens.

Surely if he had broken such a core rule, he should look it. He should look stained, should feel tainted to Lan Wangji’s trained senses--but for all that he was bright with rage and intent, he looked cold and bedraggled, sopping. And scared. Familiar as he ever was to him.

The horses stopped, dancing from foot to foot with anxiety and Wei Ying looked down at them, mouth tight, eyebrows pinched. “Lan Zhan. Jin-xiong. Are you here to stop me?”

“Wei Ying….” Lan Wangji’s breath caught, searching, aching for the words that were right, that could fix this, that could convince him to stay. And if there were no words, his limbs hummed with the tension to simply pull Wei Ying off his horse, to pin him to the ground, keep him until he saw sense--but he couldn’t make himself move. “Where are you going?” Away. You’re going away, aren’t you? 

Jin Guangyao looked over at him sharply, then up at Wei Ying, face pinched and unreadable. Wei Ying’s hands tightened on the reins as he shook his head. “I have no idea. But the world is wide. There must be a place for us.”

Lan Wangji’s hands were numb, his stomach a void of cold. “You need to think again. If you go, it will be considered a rebellion against orthodoxy with no way back.”

Wei Ying’s face darkened and he demanded with the hint of an trapped, disbelieving smile, “Rebellion against orthodoxy? What kind of orthodoxy is that?”

Jin Guangyao took a step forward, his hands coming up in placation as he grimaced against the onslaught of the rain. “You may be right, but this isn’t the time for ideology--”

“Isn’t it? Isn’t this about right and wrong? Who has done what and why? The Jin Clan has done this, Jin Guangyao, Lan Zhan. They killed Wen Ning--they skewered him with a lure flag and left him to die in a field, alone and in pain and--” Wei Ying broke off as his horse gave a harried half trot to the side, spurred by his wild energy and the broken sob of a bedraggled older woman from the crowd. “They tortured them. Toyed with their lives, murdered so, so many. I don’t regret killing them.” He looked straight at Lan Wangji as he said it, face tight. “They deserved what they got. Payment in kind. It was justice, carried out by his own hand.”

“Wei Ying...they’ll hunt you.” Lan Wangji’s voice was low, the air squeezed from him, but Wei Ying heard it, because his chin raised, jaw growing hard.

Beside him, Jin Guangyao shot Lan Wangji a look that he didn’t parse beyond extreme displeasure before he lunged forward to latch 2 hands onto either side of the bridle of Wei Ying’s mount, holding the thing’s head as it tried to step around him, his face all at once earnest and pleading. “Wuxian, think about A-Li. What will she do if you leave? Jiang Wanyin? What will you do?”

“I don’t know,” Wei Ying snapped back, seeming locked between shaking him off and listening. “I don’t--”

“It doesn’t have to be this way. Take a moment. Take a breath. We can fix this.”

Wei Ying shook his head, jaw tightening as he sucked in a breath. “No. No, I….”

The horse tossed its head again, trying to shy away, and Jin Guangyao braced his feet in the mud, hauling it back down, insisting, “We can talk about this, Wuxian; what’s happened? What did you do?”

 “Nothing I wouldn't do again. What should have been done long before this. I’m not going to leave them,” Wei Ying landed fiercely on this last. “I won’t.”

His expression smoothed into wide-eyed, placating understanding, Jin Guangyao shook his head. “No one says you must. What happened?”

Lan Wangji felt frozen in place as rain pounded down on his head, rushing down his back, his neck, spray invading each inhale. He didn’t want to hear because he knew. They knew already what he had done. He could see in the smattering of pale faces behind Wei Ying, one paler even than bone, laced with blood and black as only a fierce corpse puppet could be, dormant and propped on a horse. Wen Ning. Who he said had been killed.

Wei Ying has done it again, but not for war, not for defense. The night felt as if it was slipping away beneath his grasping fingertips, water over metal, no handholds. Uncle will find it unforgivable. He will be ostracized. He will be imprisoned. 

It was wrong. He knew it was wrong. 

But it was Wei Ying.

“I made Wen Ning a puppet. I killed them all. The overseers. I can’t...they are not going to forgive this and I don’t want them to. If this is their world, if this is what they’ve made of this peace, I don’t want any of it--”

Jin Guangyao hissed something under his breath, face hard, before he released one hand to reach up and grip Wei Ying’s knee, staring up at him. “Let us help. Let me help. Trust me.”

Something passed over Wei Ying’s face, then, a strange tangle of relief and panic and he looked at Lan Wangji with wide, scared eyes. Then at the huddled Wens, watching him with terrified awe. “I don’t….” he said again, quieter, with less bite to his tone. 

“Wei Ying….” bled from Lan Wangji and the man looked back over to him again, this time, his face full of frozen grief. 

Then, his gaze went down to Jin Guangyao, grief slowly inching into the fear of a child in the presence of an adult. Relinquishing control. “Jin-xiong, I don’t know what to do.” His voice was a choked whisper barely audible over the rain chatter.

“Then wait,” he insisted. “Just wait a moment and let me….” He trailed off, his mouth set, brow furrowed, eyes tracking back and forth in the nothingness of the mud. 

Everyone flinched at the splitting crash of thunder and lighting right overhead and, for a moment, Jin Guangyao’s face curled into a snarl of frustration as the horse tried to half rear in its panic. Wei Ying waited, frozen and staring down at him as if he was an anchor in the sea. Lan Wangji stepped closer in a daze, staring at him, the urge to simply latch onto his ankle with an iron grip, ensure that he could not run, he could not leave--

Jin Guangyao sucked in a breath. “You need to come to Lotus Pier,” he said, finally and Wei Ying bristled.

“I told you, I’m not--!”

He was shaking his head, “We’re bringing them.”

“I...what?”

Lan Wangji tore his eyes away from Wei Ying to stare at Jin Guangyao, squinting through the rain running into his eyes, threatening to sink his waterlogged headband down his forehead. What?

“We have to go quickly; news will reach Koi Tower soon and my father will send people after you all, but if we reach Yunmeng, they have to address Jiang-zongzhu first before they take any action on his territory, if we send someone ahead to ensure Jiang disciples are waiting at the border to receive them.”

Lan Wangji forced himself to speak. “To what end?” Talking to Jin Guangyao was easier than trying to talk to Wei Ying, where the words were compressed, bottlenecked by their own foreign pressure to be released. Don’t leave me, don’t do this, don’t go.

“Hanguang-jun, these are not abnormal conditions for their prisoners to be kept in and if they reach them before we get out of Lanling, they will be slaughtered as escapees, not recaptured.”

“To what end are you bringing them back?”

The smile that Jin Guangyao flashed him through the rain was edged and slightly manic. “Distance. I don’t have a better idea, at present, than to get far enough away to think of one.” He raked his gaze back over the refugees, then stopped and stared. “Is that Wen Qing?” he raised his voice over the din as the sky released itself fully, pounding down with a deafening fury that blurred the scene to silver-gray darkness, smudging the outlines of everyone and everything. 

Wei Ying looked where he pointed, what Lan Wangji could see of his face rigid with confusion and fearful hope as he shouted back. “It is. Why?”

Jin Guangyao stared into space, before he nodded slowly. “Alright. Alright. You have to go; now. Hanguang-jun!” He wheeled on Lan Wangji. “I need you to take me back to Koi Tower.”

[Part 2]

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a returning citizen in Mount Phoenix:

                                  Freya, the Goddess of Fertility,                     whose origins stem from Ancient Scandinavia.                          She is now the owner of Dagger & Roses.

FC NAME/GROUP: Im Jinah ( After School ) GOD NAME: Freya PANTHEON: Norse OCCUPATION: Owner of Dagger & Roses HEIGHT: 171 cm (5 ft 6 in) WEIGHT: 49 kg (108 lbs) DEFINING FEATURES: Warm Brown Puppy Eyes Turns Silver When Uses Her Charm. Beauty Spot Under Her Left Eye.

PERSONALITY: The fairest of them all, Freyja, the goddess who was devoted to a fault constantly wanting to make everyone in presence feel special and only wishes for small trinkets to show their love to her. Their most basic desire is to be loved and accepted. They may express this by being extremely attentive and attached to other people. Freya tend to suppress her own negative emotions, which, when done frequently, can lead to high levels of stress or unexpected outbursts. The goddess is altruist, and they take seriously their responsibility to help and to do the right thing. Despite her collection of her finer things, she does spend a lot of time volunteering for charity especial animal shelters. Overall, Freya values order, love, compassion and wishes for peaceful world for all. Encourage, lift and strengthen one another. For the positive energy spread to one will be felt by us all.

HISTORY: Once upon a time, they were two beautiful Vannir god twins Freyr & Freyja, she was the goddess of fertility, love & beauty who were believed to rule the Vanaheim the land of Vanir gods. The twins along with their father Njörðr were given to the gods of Asgard in exchange for a peace treaty. The goddess naive heart fell deeply for the god Odin who became her husband by charming him with her beauty & wits however he was mysterious man who only care for seeking knowledge leaving Freyja feel such loneliness so started to fill the void with companionship of others and material possessions. It all began where she would cry unique gold tears when she missed him greatly as he was off on his adventures and the time where she could not find him as she hunted him across the earth after her beloved but once again he couldn’t be found. Freyja became known as party girl of the Aesmir as she enjoyed the simple pleasures in life, creating friendships, sharing love & living in the moment. The goddess surrounded herself with many lovers & treasures to fill the hole which her husband left inside her yet despite everything her heart still stay true to him no matter whomever she slept with, her heart still belong to Odin no matter what.

There is lot more to Freyja other than being party girl, Freya is the archetype of the völva, a professional or semiprofessional practitioner of seidr, the most organised form of Norse magic. It was she who first brought this art to the gods, and, by extension, to humans as well. Given her expertise in controlling and manipulating the desires, health, and prosperity of others, she’s a being whose knowledge and power are almost without equal. Not only she is well versed in witchcraft, Freyja is warrior goddess and she shared Odin’s love of battle. She and Odin divided the chosen slain human heroes so that some of them would come to Valhalla to live with Odin and some would go to Sessrumnir “the field of the host” – the hall of Freya. Freya War Goddess was a master of the Battle Boar whose name was Hildisvini. Her boar became the symbol of war. Apart from the boar, people believed that Freya got itchy feet that she always wanted to travel in her chariot pulled by black or grey cats. She was also in possession of a falcon feather which she used to fly across. This falcon feather once appeared in the rescue of the kidnapped Idun the goddess guarding the apples of youth. It was clear that goddess could not stand by doing nothing, she always wish to be doing something never resting or pause to think about things.

After Ragnarok everything changed, Freyja found herself in once again in a beautiful woman body along with the curse of people seeming to do anything for her. The only difference is that’s some reason her features were Asian not Nordic which was fascinating to her. The goddess saw this as do-over start over maybe found some peace & love which her heart desperately craved trying contain her thirst for battle. Living as simple human in different lifetimes, adapting to the fast-pace world. Not really feeling she belonged anywhere, she sometimes live for mortal help raise their child for some time before disappearing into night as start ask questions on why she never ages. Freyja would give herself many names throughout her travels, from Eva meaning the giver of life which is Hebrew take on Gefn which she used before when travelling Earth when searching for Odin.

Eventually Freyja finally makes her arrival to the mysterious mount phoenix not even sure what to expect in a place like this. The goddess did becomes the new owner of the flower mill since she loves the scent of flowers & beautiful staff members. As her time pretending to be human she became fond of coffee as it was her life source to get through the day. Business is mere child play for Freya too since she is very good always getting what she wants through manipulation so running flower mill wouldn’t be problem either. Unfortunately Freya had to go away on some secret business to tend to, sadly letting go of the ownership of Flower Mill. Freyja decided to create own business from scratch since there is no store which sells weapons or antiques she decided to create her own collection even selling some of her treasures. Naming the store Dagger & Roses creating floral aesthetic store with beautiful ornate swords, daggers & bows in the glass cabinets. The most dangerous things tend to be most beautiful even Freyja offering lessons to people who wish to learn art of fighting and make perfect warrior out of the customer who would be welcomed to Sessrumnir.

POWERS:

Absolute Beauty: The power to be infinitely beautiful and use it to affect others. Freyja possesses the rarest type of beauty there is ( pure infinite beauty ), which is even higher up than supernatural beauty. No one, no matter how different their beauty standards may seem, cannot deny this person’s beauty as truly unfathomable as this person possesses infinite beauty. Because of this, she can use people to get what they so desire. Some people with this ability may even have magical abilities as a result of their beauty. She can literally charm anyone into doing her bidding with a simple smile or gaze, allowing them to gain a higher advantage. Plant Generation: The power can generate plants, including vines, moss, fungi, and parts of the plants, such as leaves, seeds, fruits and flowers, whether by drawing them from already existing plants, or by manifesting them anywhere they want. The reason why flower mill always covered in such pretty floral due to this power and helps grows the freshest ingredients for her baked apple pies plus the constant supply of fresh coffee beans. Enhanced Combat: The ability to possess enhanced levels of hand-to-hand fighting skills and excel in various forms of combat. Freya fought alongside her husband Odin & Valkyries she loves good fight. Over the lifetimes she mastered various fighting styles but only to protect herself & others never fights only if she is forced too plus she trains to keep herself in shape. What do you expect from war goddess?? She’s more lover than fighter.

STRENGTHS: Freyja has level of grace, physical beauty, sense of style and social poise above that commonly found on earth. Not only she is beautiful outside, she is inside since she see her compassion & love as strength than weakness. War goddess knows how to defend herself against anything, she had to learn from previous instances of being kidnapped on how to escape through with the power of strength alone not charm or wits. She’s got silver tongue, somehow she can easily talk into doing something or her bidding if she wishes or talk her way out of it. She knows how to use her womanly charms to get what she wants and not afraid to use it. Optimistic world-view and upbeat attitude, she likes to see the world can be wonderful place despite the dark secrets and the constant war among the humans due to petty things like greed. Freyja believes in the good things and likes to share her positive opinion around. Building deep, personal connections, she likes to know what’s in people hearts to figure out whether they are good person or not. Freya doesn’t care on who you are to the society but who you are in general. She is very good at creating connections with other people cause of that curiosity. Being adaptable in stressful situations, she remains cool as cucumber as some would say. Freya knows how to handle difficult situations since she is used to being in them a lot. She spent eternity dealing Loki antics, nothing will surprise her anymore and willing to help others through the ordeal. Communicating clearly and effectively is one of main strength since she is very much social creature. Without this ability she wouldn’t been able to create the connections she has with others. Passion for serving others, she loves to please and seeing what joy it brings to others face. That what made Freyja such a good wife since she would have done anything for Odin without even thinking due to her devotion.

WEAKNESSES: Highly noticeable, can attract unwanted attention. Does not on-and-off her beauty to allow direct control or subversion of others’ wills. No control so she doesn’t know whether the person feelings are genuine or it’s her beauty curse. Most Gods are immune to her absolute beauty yet only affects them mildly but only wanting to be in her presence however it can cause humans or demi-gods to become obsessive about her. Which can be dangerous. Magpie syndrome, an irrational affinity for shiny objects. When a highly shiny object is seen by the sufferer it often may induce a compulsive need to claim it and several minutes of staring at said object in the sun. Tendency to be overly competitive or obsessive, she does like to win in without silly challenge even it simple game or something more grand. Freya already known for obsessive nature when comes to shiny things and beautiful objects even people so it is one of weaknesses for certain. Not acknowledging their own needs, she thinks about other needs before her own. Freyja is loyal to a fault and willing to go out of the way to help someone need not thinking about her needs or whether she is capable. She hates letting down other people and that’s her downfall. Taking criticism personally, words can simply cut like a sharp blade crushing Freyja instantly even though she may put on happy smile. The goddess is bleeding from the criticism even if it was over her cupcakes weren’t good enough. Criticizing themselves and others when under pressure, she is constantly questioned whether she is good enough in general and sometimes blame the others surrounding her too. It’s toxic trait she is trying her best to fix but sometimes wounds can’t be fixed so easily.

[versegm]

 LXXIII  He, that with other scope had thither soared,  Pauses not all these wonder to peruse:  But led by the disciple of our Lord,  His way towards a spacious vale pursues;  A place wherein is wonderfully stored  Whatever on our earth below we lose.  Collected there are all things whatsoe'er,  Lost through time, chance, or our own folly, here.

 LXXIV  Nor here alone of realm and wealthy dower,  O'er which aye turns the restless wheel, I say:  I speak of what it is not in the power  Of Fortune to bestow, or take away.  Much fame is here, whereon Time and the Hour,  Like wasting moth, in this our planet prey.  Here countless vows, here prayers unnumbered lie,  Made by us sinful men to God on high:

 LXXV  The lover's tears and sighs; what time in pleasure  And play we here unprofitably spend;  To this, of ignorant men the eternal leisure,  And vain designs, aye frustrate of their end.  Empty desires so far exceed all measure,  They o'er that valley's better part extend.  There wilt thou find, if thou wilt thither post,  Whatever thou on earth beneath hast lost.

 LXXVI  He, passing by those heaps, on either hand,  Of this and now of that the meaning sought;  Formed of swollen bladders here a hill did stand,  Whence he heard cries and tumults, as he thought.  These were old crowns of the Assyrian land  And Lydian — as that paladin was taught —  Grecian and Persian, all of ancient fame;  And now, alas! well-nigh without a name.

 LXXVII  Golden and silver hooks to sight succeed,  Heaped in a mass, the gifts which courtiers bear,  — Hoping thereby to purchase future meed —  To greedy prince and patron; many a snare,  Concealed in garlands, did the warrior heed,  Who heard, these signs of adulation were;  And in cicalas, which their lungs had burst,  Saw fulsome lays by venal poets versed.

 LXXVIII  Loves of unhappy end in imagery  Of gold or jewelled bands he saw exprest;  Then eagles' talons, the authority  With which great lords their delegates invest:  Bellows filled every nook, the fume and fee  Wherein the favourites of kings are blest:  Given to those Ganymedes that have their hour,  And reft, when faded is their vernal flower.

 LXXIX  O'erturned, here ruined town and castle lies,  With all their wealth: "The symbols" (said his guide)  "Of treaties and of those conspiracies,  Which their conductors seemed so ill to hide."  Serpents with female faces, felonies  Of coiners and of robbers, he descried;  Next broken bottles saw of many sorts,  The types of servitude in sorry courts.

 LXXX  He marks mighty pool of porridge spilled,  And asks what in that symbol should be read,  And hears 'twas charity, by sick men willed  For distribution, after they were dead.  He passed a heap of flowers, that erst distilled  Sweet savours, and now noisome odours shed;  The gift (if it may lawfully be said)  Which Constantine to good Sylvester made.

 LXXXI  A large provision, next, of twigs and lime  — Your witcheries, O women! — he explored.  The things he witnessed, to recount in rhyme  Too tedious were; were myriads on record,  To sum the remnant ill should I have time.  'Tis here that all infirmities are stored,  Save only Madness, seen not here at all,  Which dwells below, nor leaves this earthly ball.

 LXXXII  He turns him back, upon some days and deeds  To look again, which he had lost of yore;  But, save the interpreter the lesson reads,  Would know them not, such different form they wore.  He next saw that which man so little needs,  — As it appears — none pray to Heaven for more;  I speak of sense, whereof a lofty mount  Alone surpast all else which I recount.

 LXXXIII  It was as 'twere a liquor soft and thin,  Which, save well corked, would from the vase have drained;  Laid up, and treasured various flasks within,  Larger or lesser, to that use ordained.  That largest was which of the paladin,  Anglantes' lord, the mighty sense contained;  And from those others was discerned, since writ  Upon the vessel was ORLANDO'S WIT.

 LXXXIV  The names of those whose wits therein were pent  He thus on all those other flasks espied.  Much of his own, but with more wonderment,  The sense of many others he descried,  Who, he believed, no dram of theirs had spent;  But here, by tokens clear was satisfied,  That scantily therewith were they purveyed;  So large the quantity he here surveyed.

 LXXXV  Some waste on love, some seeking honour, lose  Their wits, some, scowering seas, for merchandise,  Some, that on wealthy lords their hope repose,  And some, befooled by silly sorceries;  These upon pictures, upon jewels those;  These on whatever else they highest prize.  Astrologers' and sophists' wits mid these,  And many a poet's too, Astolpho sees.

- Orlando Furioso, Ariosto

[writingcuredmyfrown]

The Sign

It’s been a long time since I wrote something, so I present to you my latest story. A tale, inspired by H.P.Lovecraft. 

Words: 1,843 - It’s a long read, so brew some coffee or tea, close your window and kick back!

I have always had a keen interest in everything witchy, occult, magical, necromantic, mystical and supernatural. When I was a small boy I used to gather all kinds of stones, leaves, odd trinkets, twisted branches and other curiosities. Then I would take them to a small room, next to the attic of my father’s old house, where I would experiment with them, chant verses I had read in old poetry books, color them with different pigments, submerge them in water etc. Now that I look back on those years, I realize that I wasn’t looking for something, or expecting results, but that I just loved doing it. I was drawn to the process, to the interaction with the object. It pulled me, gripped me, at points I even felt enthralled by it. 

Naturally, when I saw the advert in the newspaper, I immediately boarded the first train for Akshalam. Lately, my life has consisted of endless travel from place to place, all across this wasteland of a country. I’ve found many things of suspicious origin, trinkets with questionable properties, and tomes upon tomes with knowledge, long forgotten and obsolete. You see, money would seem like a problem, but not here. Practically the whole country now deals in such goods, they’ve become the new commodity, the new big thing. Gradually everyone became if not interested in the mystical oddities, then at least interested in becoming rich off them. 

The train ride was silent. There was a nip in the air of the wagon, which left me uneasy. All around me were people just like me, treasure hunters, seekers of relics and knowledge freaks. At times, looking through the window, I felt as if this isn’t the world I used to live in. I went back in time, in my mind, and saw such things that do not exist anymore. I looked around the train and carefully scanned my fellow passengers. They were almost husks, dried out humans with no sense of place or time. I was wondering why the incidents at the docks were increasing, and why the police weren’t doing anything. It seems that slowly, over the years, this land has fallen from grace, drowned in some sort of dreadful slumber, which paralyzes the mind, but leaves the body untouched. I felt like I was on an island, surrounded by vast masses of ocean, with its deep and silent waters, ready to engulf me at any point. I kept staring out the window, I thought maybe, out there, lies something else.

When I arrived at Akshalam I sat down at a coffee shop to eat and get some coffee. The ride was almost nine hours, and I desperately needed to press on, I couldn’t allow myself to rest in one of those two-story hotels, with no windows and barely any staff members, apart from the person at the reception. I’ve stayed at such places once or twice, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never fall asleep. There was always some strange, ominous noise coming from within the walls. Screeching, scratching, twitching noises that wouldn’t leave my brain alone. When I had inquired about them, the only answer I received is that it’s natural now. It seems that most buildings in town have developed such an issue, and the residents say the only way to deal with it is to sing a verse from a book titled “A poet’s endless dream”, which calms the noises down, subdues them. 

After my little break, I went straight to the carriage station. I carried the newspaper with me, the advert was written informally, it appears the person behind it wanted the editors to not change anything. It said: 

“In the city of Akshalam, June Street, you will find me in my shop. I have for you a secret beyond your imagination. A scripture, found in a recent expedition in the Kaloma Steppes, which bears a mark of curious origin. Find me, and inquire about it. We shall speak in private.  Signed, Jazem Al-Hafar”

I showed it to the man, handling the wagons and he mumbled something inaudible. When I asked whether I could be shown the way, or carried there, he mumbled something again, and motioned me to climb on. 

The streets of Akshalam are narrow, with living quarters cramped close together. There are no sidewalks, only ditches and trenches, used for sewage and waste. Everyone uses the streets, be it on foot, on a bicycle, on horseback or in a carriage. Transportation and moving around is difficult, but at least you have ample time to see and observe your surroundings. As we were slowly making our way through puddles, mud and masses of faceless people, I felt many piercing gazes, fixated upon me. I turned around and saw children, many children with dark skin and sky-blue eyes staring at me as we passed through. Their eyes were cold, dead. I felt them sapping my life force, draining me of my energy, turning me into a husk. I quickly looked away and tapped my driver on the shoulder, so he would hurry up. He mumbled and kicked the horses, which ended up scaring a bunch of passersby, who then angrily shouted at us in a strange dialect. 

The long train ride, followed by this restless carriage ride had left me exhausted. I was now outside the shop. A small, crumbling building with clay ornaments at the front. It had a sign - “Jazem’s Sacred Grounds”. The door was wide open, the only thing between me and the inside of these sacred grounds was the fringe door curtain, a black and gold masterpiece of the oriental craft. No plastic, only the finest silk, adorned with precious jewelry and wooden figurines. I took a deep breath and headed inside. 

I stepped carefully inside, the scent of something burning, perhaps incense, immediately hit my nose. The inside was small, with barely any place to take a step. It was full of shelves, boxes, crates, barrels and drawers. Some of the were widely open, their contents protruding a bit. It was dark, the only sunshine coming from a small window on the left wall. It was so filthy, that there was barely any light, and the beams that did manage to go through, illuminated a bunch of bundles of herbs on the counter. I didn’t know what to do next, I felt overwhelmed. From every corner and every little nook and cranny, something caught my eye. Flasks and vials with colorful substances inside, rocks and ores with a faint glow, numerous mounted heads, upon whose horns hung tribal necklaces; a small bird cage, now empty, different plants with twisted-looking fruits, countless sheets of paper, scattered about, full of incoherent writing, a cat with one eye, slowly walking across the end of the room, paintings of people, possibly long one, paint brushes, canisters, trinkets, bottles, pouches, glass ornaments and silver cutlery, a long hooded cowl, hanging on a nail on the right wall, and many, many candles, now extinguished. I felt my blood pumping, my heart began racing. The child, which was locked away within me was getting excited, it felt drawn once again. That’s what I feared most, that I would be consumed if I took one more step inside this place, that my own self would capture and lead me to my end. I came so far for this, I couldn’t stop then. I had to do it, to trust. I saw a copper bell, covered in dust on the counter. I slowly made my way there, trying not to push over or break something, and pressed it. 

From behind the counter suddenly jumped a midget with a long beard and no hair. He smiled at me, caressed my hand gently and introduced himself. Jazem Al-Hafar. His teeth were all golden, his lower lip was burnt, and his eyes were dark green. I’ve dealt with such situations before, my visits have taken me far and wide, but this man was something different. His whole aura was different. I felt scared and alone, but I couldn’t resist. I felt enthralled once again. So I did as he told me, I followed him into the basement of the shop. We grabbed torches and went down a narrow corridor, which seemed endless. Soon, we arrived. There was nothing there but a table with two chairs, and a scripture. A few candlesticks gave the place an ambience of dread and decay. The scripture, I thought, it’s right there. He motioned me to sit, and he sat directly across. 

The scripture was now in his hands, the seal had come off, he unwrapped the paper and gave it to me in a ritualistic way. I took it with my shivering hands, looked at Jazem and then looked at the writing itself. I couldn’t understand a word, the letters were written in a language I’d never seen, and not only that, they were also moving across the page, shaking, twisting. They formed a circle and started spinning faster and faster. I felt the scripture wearing me down, it was too heavy for my hands, but I couldn’t let go, no matter how hard I tried. The circle kept increasing in speed, and within its boundaries something began emerging, another piece of writing, I thought. A sign. A sign resembling nothing at all, yet melting my mind the more I stared at it. I kept losing energy, the intensity of the moving letters kept increasing, and slowly the sign became a window into another world, or dimension. I saw many people through that window, the train passengers, the hotel owners, the coffee shop keeper, those children on the street, and they all had the same sign on their foreheads, glowing in bright yellow. I wanted desperately to break the scroll’s hold, but I couldn’t. The window suddenly became a mirror, and I could see myself in there. Eyes wide open, full of blood, swollen nerve endings, and an iris as black as night. Then, when I looked at my forehead, I saw the very same sign, in its bright yellow tone. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t. I couldn’t move anything, my mind was trapped inside a still body. 

And then, I woke up, head on the table. I leapt up and saw Jazem Al-Hafar right there, in front of me, holding the scripture, which was now sealed, in his hands. His golden teeth and burnt lip forming a sadistic smile, as he was stroking his beard. He took a candle and approached my face with it. 

“What do they call you, traveler?” he murmured.

I tried answering, but nothing came out. Nothing coherent, that is, only a mumble. A mumble, devoid of meaning and sense. His smile widened, he stood up and started climbing the stairs back to the shop. The wind was howling outside, and as it was making its way through the cavernous tunnel, it blew away all the candles. 

“Soon enough, traveler, all will kneel before the King in Yellow.”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Four: A Crystal Cup ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Divine Light ] [ AO3 Link ]

Passing through the city gates is a bit nostalgic.

Astride his dark mount, Sasuke comes to a stop just outside, observing for a short while. The first time he beheld the Luxerian capital, the protective barrier was still erect, shielding the city from outsiders. Its roads had been ghostly, empty and silent as he, his brother, the light mage, and Hinata all made their way in toward the castle atop the knoll, and the statue of Luxeria standing guard. It was there the healer at last found the knowledge necessary to cure Itachi entirely, and repay her friend’s side of the debt: the agreement between the fire and water mages then complete. Hinata had gotten away from her father, learning about magic...and in turn, Sasuke’s brother was cured at long last.

From there...things seemed to snowball.

Determined to resuscitate the city of her ancestors, the lux mage had enlisted both Itachi and Hinata’s help in rebuilding the council of the twelve elements. Itachi agreed to take igni’s mantle, and Hinata aqua’s. 

Sasuke...had felt betrayed.

His brother had promised that - once his body was whole - they would return home to their parents and finally enjoy a normal, healthy life. It was the one thing that had kept Sasuke on this path: the promise of his brother’s vitality, and seeing their parents’ faces upon their return. At first, he’d been angry - livid - convinced that the lux mage had twisted Itachi somehow to get him to agree to such a hare-brained scheme.

And Hinata, too! She’d been friends with the healer before he’d met her, but still…! Did all their journeying together - all they faced together - mean nothing? Was she really ready to throw away the freedom she’d earned and become shackled to another destiny? Give away her autonomy to involve herself with politics?

All Sasuke had ever wanted was a free, peaceful life with his mother, father, and brother...and suddenly, everything felt like it was falling apart. Perhaps it was childish...but he chose to be angry: chose to blame the lux mage and her ambitions for Itachi’s change of heart.

...of course, that had only been partially true. The blooming friendship between the pair - with hints of something more than friendship - had swayed him. But once he managed to corner his younger brother, Itachi had explained his feelings: of wanting to help restore balance and peace for their people. No longer would the el’ven have to live in fear and hiding.

Hinata, too, admitted to similar feelings. Her own family’s flight took place when she was old enough to remember, unlike Sasuke’s in his infancy. It weighed on her far heavier...as it did on Itachi, who also witnessed the downfall of their city.

...it took time, but he came to understand, if a bit stubbornly. And after meeting with the monster slayer and assassin Kakashi, Sasuke honed his skills further, taking to the road as his brother and Hinata pursued their own futures. It’s been a year, now...and he’s finally returned.

Maturity has stripped a bit more of the fat from his face, hair longer and half-tied in a tail behind his head. His brashness has tempered with patience after so many hunts and contracts. Finally, it seems...he’s grown up.

His year on the road has changed him greatly...and helped him see many matters from another angle. It’s that alone that brings him back, and at this particular time. In only a few days, the second of the new council meetings will begin.

Hence the current bustle in the city, so unlike his first glimpses of it. Allowing a hint of a smile, he gently urges his horse forward, shod hooves clacking pleasantly against the stone streets. Those on foot part like water to let him pass as he makes his way to the stables. Mount housed, he then makes his way up to the castle doors. Guards preside carefully, asking his name.

“Sasuke, house of Uchiha,” he replies evenly, seeing the recognition in their eyes.

“Oh, aye sir! Please, make your way inside.”

Nodding, he passes them into the entry hall. Flawless white stone and peerless glass windows seem to alight from all angles. Even here there are considerable crowds: mostly palace staff, alongside Luxerian acolytes dressed in white and gold. Intermixed are other elemental colors, the twelve represented and gathered to prepare for the week of festivities and negotiations.

For a time he stands and watches the bustle, mostly unnoticed as he only receives curious glances. He doesn’t stand out much in his plain traveling gear and cloak, looking every part the wanderer and sellsword he’s become.

“...Sasuke…?”

For a moment, the tone stills the beats in his chest. Then a glance aside reveals Hinata. Pale eyes are wide in surprise, posture half hesitant as though weighing the decision to reach for him. The traditional colors of Auquiana - deep and shallow blues - color every inch of her garments, accented subtly by silver. Her hair is still long, loose along her back.

“...Hinata.”

Brightening, she abandons her indecision and approaches him, bearing a warm smile. “What are you doing here? Did Itachi ask you to come?”

“No...I’m here of my own volition. Thought I’d see how things have progressed in a year’s time.”

“I see…! Then...have you plans to remain until the summit is over?”

“Perhaps. We’ll see how it holds my interest.”

That earns a wry smile. “I’m sure it will. Even if you’re not a fan of politics, the meeting of cultures is always of intrigue. I’m sure if you asked, Itachi would let you sit on his council if you wished to see the proceedings up close.”

“...we’ll see,” he replies vaguely, not too keen on the political side of things. “I hear there’s a gala…?”

“Yes, for the dignitaries and their parties, as well as some notable guests.”

“So...those with deep pockets,” Sasuke counters.

“Some, yes. Others are experts in ven, or in negotiations. Some are just important members of each culture. This isn’t just for the rich and powerful.”

That just earns a hum. “...well, I suppose I might at least participate in that, if I must.”

“It’s by far the most entertaining day,” Hinata agrees. “It’s the first, so we all begin on a friendly, light-hearted note. At least...that’s how it felt last year. We’ll see if history repeats itself. But for now...why don’t we catch up? It feels like it’s been eons since I’ve seen you…”

“Is a year really that painful?”

Hinata gives him a glance. “...was it not so for you?”

“Well...I kept rather busy.”

“As did I. But I always found myself hoping you’d write.”

A bit of guilt settles in his stomach. “...next year,” he half jokes, half promises.

“You’d better…!”

Hinata dispels her entourage, and the pair retreat to the back gardens. They aren’t alone, but the atmosphere is quite a bit less stressful than the interior of the castle. As they come to a stop nearby a fountain, a member of the staff seems to appear out of thin air, holding aloft a tray with crystal goblets filled with sparkling white wine.

“A bit early for that, isn’t it?” Sasuke asks.

“It helps keep things...relaxed,” Hinata replies in jest, accepting a crystal cup.

After a pause, Sasuke does the same, taking a small sip. “So...how has all of this treated you?”

“It’s hard work, especially since we’re still only just beginning,” she admits, watching the water. “But we’ve already made excellent headway. Treaties and new political lines are always in the works. Things are changing...slowly, but surely. The relations between el’ven and el’kor are bettering. Tensions remain, but...it’s to be expected.”

“How has my brother fared? He’d write me on occasion but otherwise I heard little - he was always vague and light on words.”

“In all honesty, I doubt I can tell you much more. As much as we work together, so too do we have plenty to do apart. But you’ll see him soon - I think he’s due to arrive today or tomorrow.”

“It will be good to see him…”

Hinata glances to him thoughtfully. “...and it’s good to see you,” she murmurs. “I take it the road treated you well enough?”

“Fairly. I sent most of my earnings back home. It hasn’t been glorious, but honest enough. Engaging enough.”

“Don’t you ever get lonely…?”

“...a bit.”

“...is that why you came back?”

His lips tick upwards. “...maybe it is. At the very least, in part. A break in the monotony is always good. There’s variety in my work, but it’s all still work.”

“Mm...I understand.”

For a moment, they stand in silence...and then Hinata lifts a hand. Casually, playfully, she starts manipulating some of the water in the fountain.

In a way it makes Sasuke nostalgic, thinking back to the first lessons he gave her about the powers her father had forbidden her to use.

“I guess our paths have no intention of slowing any time soon, do they?” she then murmurs, letting the liquid meld back into the pool.

“...I suppose not. But maybe that just means we enjoy what we have while we have it.”

A brief smile flickers across her face. “...maybe. At the very least, I intend to.” Hinata gives him a glance. “...which includes your company.”

“...I look forward to it.”

                                                         .oOo.

     More crossover with my original fantasy verse! Admittedly this one hasn't had much...story? At least not linear among all I've done with it: just random bits and pieces, sort of like the ALAS stuff. Hence not linking things (yet) because it's really all over the place lol      Speaking of, I HAVE been slowly working on a spreadsheet trying to get all of these sorted into mini series. Maybe by year's end I'll be done :'D      But yeah, not much to say about this one...just a lil reunion after some character growth. I kinda DO want to make a fic out of this, maybe...I'm just wary since it has original elements of mine. I've been doing one with a friend of mine's OC and mine, and a few canons...but SH really isn't in it, as it takes place a bit later than this...kinda? So idk if anyone here would be interested lol      Anyway, I'm...very tired, and in a lotta tooth pain, so I'm gonna call it a night~ Thanks for reading!

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Thirty-One: Medieval AU ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Jiraiya ] [ Verse: Drake by Day ] [ Previous || Next ]

Making his way through the gates of the capital city, Obito peers out from under the hem of his hood to the castle at the peak of the hill. It’s taken him two weeks to reach it from where he first heard word of the quest. All he can hope now is that no one else has succeeded...and that the reward is as grand as the bulletin made it appear.

With a gentle nudge of his heels, he urges his mount onward through the main thoroughfare. He’s never been this far north, and all the tales he’s heard of the city are more than true, given what he sees. Never has he witnessed buildings so tall, streets so wide and cobbled. And like a proverbial crown, the castle sits above it all, gleaming in the sunlight.

It’s there he’s headed to take on the challenge offered by the king.

Already he can tell that there’s a lingering tension in the air. The townsfolk look nervous, faces drawn in the wake of the bad news. Obito doesn’t yet know how long this tragedy has weighed on them, but it must be quite some time…

Putting that thought aside, he continues upward until reaching the castle gate. Dismounting and taking his horse’s reins, he approaches a guard. “I’m here about the contract offered by the king.”

The knight, dressed in gleaming armor, seems to look him over skeptically for a long moment. Obito’s own garb is more akin to a rogue than someone like him, weighed down by strong but bulky plates. “...go ahead, then. You can leave your mount at the stables until you’ve finished your business.”

Nodding, Obito does as he’s told before taking the steps up to the main doors. Beyond them stretches a grand hall that draws his gaze to the vaulted ceilings. And at the far end, upon a lonely throne, sits the king.

Obito’s hardly the only person milling about. Staff, knights, members of court...all bustle around and look high-strung. Seems the anxiety is only heightened here...and for good reason.

When he approaches, the monarch is talking lowly to a courier, who disengages with a bow before letting his ruler eye his new guest.

“...and who might you be?”

Reaching into his hip satchel, Obito draws and unravels the parchment that had hung in the tavern he frequents. “I’ve come to offer my aid.”

Immediately, the man’s face falls as he sees the portrait upon the paper. Gently accepting it, he looks over the visage of his daughter. “...I see. Forgive me, but…” A hand spares to gesture to him. “You hardly look the part of a knight.”

“Because I’m not one.”

“...and yet you would attempt to bring her back?”

“If I may, your majesty...how many knights have you sent on this voyage?”

The man’s face darkens. “...too many.”

“And how many have succeeded?”

There’s a gusty sigh, considering the traveler. “...I see your point. But you did read the missive, did you not? The princess is not simply missing - she’s being guarded by a beast of legend. Have you any experience in fighting such a monster?”

“It doesn’t always come down to a fight. I’ll try my luck, if I may, your majesty.”

“...very well. And may I assume it is the monetary reward that tempts you?”

“...I’ll not deny it.”

“There’s no shame in seeking your fortune through honest work,” the king replies. “And it is more than worth seeing my daughter - my sole heir - returned whence she belongs. Very well...should you succeed, the money is yours. Bring her here...and you will have your reward. My steward will show you the map where she has been taken. There is no date by which you must return, but the sooner, quite obviously the better. My people fear having their future queen missing so long, for I am growing old…”

“I’ll bring her back. You have my word.”

“Either that, or you’ll perish trying,” the king replies dryly. “...go, then. And good fortune to you, for my daughter’s sake.”

With that encouraging send off, Obito is pulled aside and shown a map of the nearby lands.

“She is currently being held here, in these ruins of an old fort...it should take you three or four days to reach it. Are you…?” The man gives Obito a glance. “...sure you have what you need?”

“That and more,” Obito assures him, straightening from the table.

“As you wish, sir. Good luck.”

Route planned and permission given, Obito fetches his horse and leaves the capital city behind, taking an eastern road. He has a few days to finalize his preparations, and he’ll have more to scout and plan his methods. If all goes well...his stealth-based movements will get him in and out with the damsel before the beast even knows he’s there. So long as she doesn’t present any problems…

The trip is mostly silent, camping off the road come each nightfall and imagining ways to spend a mountain of gold. The rest of the proposed reward doesn’t interest him much: he doesn’t have any use for it. He’ll stick to his money, thank you very much.

On the fourth day, he finds the ruins near noon, picketing his horse a ways back as not to give him away. Peering out from the trees nearby, he neither sees nor hears the beast supposedly guarding his target. Perhaps it’s away feasting on another poor soul trying to find this damsel. Ever so quietly, he works his way around, eyeing the remains of the fortress carefully. It seems easy enough to scale - he’s climbed and traversed worse. But where is she being kept within is the question...and will she make getting back out any more difficult?

Only time will tell.

By the time he’s finished his scouting, it’s late afternoon, evening creeping up the horizon. And still no sign of the beast. Drawing his hood and pulling the fabric of his mask up to his nose, he begins sprinting from cover to cover. Reaching the outer wall, he digs the claws of his boots’ toes into the gaps of the stone, quickly ascending and kneeling atop it. Crouched and moving fast, he makes it to a crumbling section and descends into the yard of the fort.

...still nothing.

Huh...maybe someone has beaten him here. But he still needs to check the interior. The largest central tower - a great hole blown out from the top - is likely his best bet. But he nevertheless checks the rest of the fort first. Half an hour of searching shows him nothing, so he retreats and makes to start scaling the tower.

...but that’s when he hears it.

Ducking behind a section of collapsed wall, he watches as a winged beast soars over the fort, bellowing in warning before coming to perch atop the fore of the wall. White and silver scales shine in the setting sun, moonstone horns and spikes glittering.

...dragon.

Well...drat. Nibbling the scar on his lip, Obito looks up. Can he make it to the top before it notices him? And if he does...how to descend without being spotted, let alone once he’s got a princess to account for…?

Well...sitting around won’t get it done.

Creeping around his cover, he starts ascending, one eye on the dragon. Its back sits to him, seemingly watching the sunset. The climb goes well...until Obito’s split focus lets him grip a loose stone by mistake. Dislodged, it leaves him swinging for a moment, tumbling down with a loud clatter.

Ears flicking back, the beast turns a serpentine neck, eyes locking and pupils widening. Giving a roar, it pivots on its perch, wings flaring as Obito makes to finish his climb.

Shit, shit, SHIT…!

Reaching the lip of the shattered wall, he leaps up and tumbles behind a broken desk to hide. The room - a good twenty paces in each direction - is covered in a nest of blankets, pillows, curtains, and even tree branches. Eyes flickering over the space, Obito stills.

...there’s no one here.

Oaths threaten to spill from his tongue. Was he lied to?! Did someone beat him to his goal? Where’s the princess, she has to be -!

The tower gives a great shudder as the beast collides, half-landing within the open room. Talons screech and scrape against the floor as it hauls itself in with another ear-splitting bellow.

This isn’t good.

Still ducked behind his cover, Obito listens with a pounding heart as the dragon growls, nostrils flaring with breath as it tries to sniff him out. At one point, a hot breath flares over him, and it takes all his courage not to bolt. Looking around desperately, he spies a window across the room. If he can just make it there, and start descending the rear side…

But the sun is nearly setting, the light dying and bathing the tower in twilight. The beast’s paws start digging at the interior, sending all manner of debris clattering down several stories to the courtyard below. Each swipe of its limb cuts between him and his goal - he just has to -!

...wait…

Having pulled itself fully into the room, the dragon suddenly stills, head turning to look out to the night sky. A waxing moon throws the nightscape into sharp relief, and the beast gives a long, low...almost mournful cry.

...and then it starts to glow.

Daring to peek over his hiding place, Obito’s eyes widen as the dragon takes staggering steps forward, form beginning to blur...and then shrink. And then, with one last flare of light...it fades to show a woman just as she collapses atop the remaining blankets.

...wait…

Letting a long moment pass to ensure it’s not a trick, Obito stealthily makes his way out. Clearly unconscious, the woman is slack (and bare) within the tangle of fabric. And yet, there’s no mistaking it...she looks just as she did in the portrait.

...this is the princess…!

A bit boggled, Obito drops to a crouch, cupping his chin with a hand. So...she wasn’t being guarded by a beast...she is the beast! It must be some kind of curse, if he has to guess. A monster by day, human by night...and yet…

...he has to wonder how much of this the king knows. After all, orders have been given to slay the dragon if possible, in order to save the throne’s heir. But she has been that dragon all along! If someone had actually succeeded...they’d not have saved her, but killed her.

...whoever cursed her must have surely thought it through. They didn’t want her out of the way...they wanted her dead…! And by a knight of the realm’s own hand!

...and what is he to do with her, now? If she changes every time the sun rises, they’ll never make it back to the castle before she’s a beast once more! And he can’t know if she realizes it: if she’s a beast in both body and mind during the day. Was she actually trying to kill him out of bestial instinct? Or was she merely protecting herself, assuming he - like the knights - was bent on killing her?

Well...only one way to find out.

A bit awkward at her nudity, he first tugs aside a spare blanket to cover her before shaking a shoulder. “...oi...wake up…!”

There’s a soft groan, white lashes fluttering as she opens bleary greys. “...what…?”

“You’re the crown princess, aren’t you? Ryū?”

Clearly still addled, she clutches her cover and sits up, a hand at her eyes. “...yes, I...I am. Who are you…?”

“I’m one of many sent to rescue you, but...seems you don’t really need rescuing, now do you?”

Once her expression clears of sleep, her eyes widen with a gasp. “...you…! You saw…?”

“A bit hard not to. You were about to finish me off before the sun set. Is that how all of this works…?”

Looking to him in near horror, Ryū then softens, glancing aside in what looks like shame. “...in truth, I...I know very little. I was taken from home some months ago, and brought here...cursed...and left alone.”

“Do you know who did this?”

She gives a somber shake of her head. “My eyes were kept bound...and I only heard them speak the incantation in the old tongue. Beyond that...I-I’m just as blind as you. But yes...with the dawn I become a monster...and at night, under the moon, I’m human again. But with one exception: nights of the new moon, I remain a beast throughout. It seems tied to the lunar cycle.”

“Do you keep your mind during the day?”

“Aye. But I cannot speak...I’ve tried to evade those who come for me, but they...they…!” Tears brim along her eyes. “...I never meant to hurt them...but they had every intent to kill me! None ever last to the night, to see the truth...not until you. I didn’t mean…”

“Well...you had to protect yourself,” Obito mutters. “No shame in that.”

“But those men, they’re...they’re dead because of me…!”

“And would you rather be? Your father and your kingdom are stricken without you. This may sound harsh, but there are many knights...and only one princess. Besides, many meet their ends in other ways. If not to you...then some other quest. Try not to worry. Right now...our biggest obstacle is getting you home in one piece to tell the truth...and then finding a way to get you relieved of this curse.”

“I...I can hide during the day. There’s a route that follows the forest. It will take a few more days, but it should be enough to keep me hidden. If...if that is agreeable to you, sir.”

Obito waves away the title. “Whatever gets you back in one piece.” He won’t get his reward until then, after all - a few more days’ wait isn’t about to kill him. “And, er...I suppose we need to find you something to...wear.”

At that, her cheeks flush pink. “Ah...yes. I don’t think there are any garments here, but...I can improvise. And...thank you for preserving my modesty. Clothes can’t really survive such a change of shape…”

He manages an awkward chuckle. “...right. Well...let’s get you dressed, and down to the ground...then we can start our way back.”

She manages to craft a makeshift dress from a blanket and curtain cords. Hardly a gown of nobility, but...better than nothing. The stairs within the tower are half destroyed, Obito helping her climb down until they reach the ground.

“...it’s been so long since I’ve seen a friendly face,” she admits softly as they leave the ruins behind. “I was beginning to lose hope I’d ever been found. Though...you are not a knight, are you?”

“No...but I think that’s what made the difference.”

“...perhaps you are right.”

They find Obito’s horse where he left them, the princess pulled up behind the saddle as he starts directing them into the trees. “You must miss home.”

“Terribly...was my father well?”

“Beyond being worried, he seemed stout enough. But he’ll be even better once we get you home.”

She mulls that over in silence. “...and how do you plan to spend your gold?”

“...er…”

The princess gives a soft smile. “I feel that I owe you more than just money. You’ve quite possibly saved my life...and my kingdom. Is that really all you want?”

“I’ll be content with it. Besides, we’d best not hold our breath. We’ve several days between now and reaching the capital. Something may yet go wrong.”

“Oh, don’t say that…” Her steadying grip on his waist tightens, and he feels her bow her brow to his back. “...I can’t bear it…”

“...well, we’ll do what we can. We have a goal, we have a route...all we can do is stick to it. By week’s end, we’ll have you back where you belong.”

“My curse still remains.”

“...true. I’ve no skill in them, but surely your father employs a court wizard?”

...silence rings for a time. “...I yet wonder if it was he who did this…”

“What?”

“Many may refuse to see it, but I know he yearns for my father’s crown. There was a time he attempted to earn my hand...but when I refused…” Ryū sighs softly. “...what if this was his plan to take it by force?”

“...well, we can’t do anything about it now. I can always stash you and speak to your father privately. But that may mean finding another spellcaster. And curses are tricky, from what little I know.”

He feels her wilt behind him. “...my people will never acquiesce to a monster as their queen...if I cannot be cured…”

“Don’t dwell on it now. We’ll find a way.” Obito isn’t sure the king will agree to pay him if his daughter isn’t whole...this might take longer than he thought. But he’ll be damned if he came all this way to go unpaid. “For now...one step at a time. We’ve got a road to travel, first.”

“...you’re right. We’re already farther than I’ve ever gotten. I just...need to stay calm.” A long pause falls between them. “...thank you, by the way...for all you’ve done. I know it’s for your coin, but...you’ve saved my life.”

“...don’t thank me yet,” Obito murmurs, ignoring the slight guilt he feels at the mention of the money. “Thank me once it’s all said and done.”

“I can still thank you for what you’ve done thus far...I…” She hesitates. “I don’t yet know your name, sir.”

“Obito. Far better than sir...I’m not one someone would call sir.”

“...Obito...neither a knight, nor sir. And the only one able to rescue a princess in so many months of trying. How...intriguing.”

“...that’s one way to put it.”

From there, they sink into a companionable silence. They’ve a long journey ahead of them, but...at least this is a start.

     ;~; It's the last daaay, aww...I mean, I DO have MANY more stories to work on with these two, but...still. I'm sad. It's been a blast (and more than a little exhausting atop everything else) to do this ship month. But I don't plan on stopping writing them any time soon!      ANYWAY! This is a plot I've partially written before in RP with another partner who's currently inactive, and...I've reallllly wanted to reuse it. No idea if I'll make a full story of it, but I love the concept: based rather heavily on The Swan Princess...I loved that movie as a kid, still do xD Only this is a little more...serious than that. Dragons and swans are a stone's throw apart, lmao! Who knows, maybe I'll write more...orrr maybe we'll RP it. We'll see!      Buuut on that note...I guess that's it for this one. Thanks to everyone who stopped by to read beyond Meg, lol - wasn't really expecting that! But I do hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading! I'll be working on other series soon :D

[timhatchlive]

When You Forsake God You Miss Out

Isaiah is teaching Israel that only in the Lord is there hope and strength. He is the one who made them and formed them, who loves them and can rebuild them and protect them. To abandon Him is unwise because it leads to self-destruction. 

Isaiah 31:1 (ESV) Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help and rely on horses, who trust in chariots because they are many and in horsemen because they are very strong, but do not look to the Holy One of Israel or consult the LORD!

A woe is proclaimed over those who would seek the power of Egypt against Assyria. The political maneuvering of Israel's leaders offered false hope. Yes, it made sense in the flesh, but it offered no true protection in the spiritual realm - the realm that determines what ultimately happens in the flesh. 

The next verse begins to unpack what God brings to our lives. 

Isaiah 31:2 (ESV) And yet he is wise and brings disaster; he does not call back his words, but will arise against the house of the evildoers and against the helpers of those who work iniquity.

He brings wisdom. He brings disaster. He brings faithfulness and justice. He is the God you want and the God you need.

In the next verse, God reveals that He alone is able to determine what happens. 

Isaiah 31:3 (ESV) The Egyptians are man, and not God, and their horses are flesh, and not spirit. When the LORD stretches out his hand, the helper will stumble, and he who is helped will fall, and they will all perish together.

The Lord's hand once drowned the Egyptians in the sea. And now Israel wants their help? How quickly we forget the Lord who saved us is the Lord who can sustain us!

Then Isaiah unpacks a personal revelation from the Lord.

Isaiah 31:4–5 (ESV) For thus the LORD said to me, “As a lion or a young lion growls over his prey, and when a band of shepherds is called out against him he is not terrified by their shouting or daunted at their noise, so the LORD of hosts will come down to fight on Mount Zion and on its hill. 5 Like birds hovering, so the LORD of hosts will protect Jerusalem; he will protect and deliver it; he will spare and rescue it.”

The Lord is not afraid nor intimidated by what intimidates us. He is undaunted by the terrors in your heart. Trust Him!

Isaiah 31:6–7 (ESV) Turn to him from whom people have deeply revolted, O children of Israel. 7 For in that day everyone shall cast away his idols of silver and his idols of gold, which your hands have sinfully made for you.

A final call is made by Isaiah to come back to Him. Even though there was rebellion in your past, there can be renewal in your future. God is ever gracious to His own. 

The greatest reason to stay near God is that He can do for you what everything you're giving Him up for cannot do. He alone can be God. 

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[champofpallet]

What did you do?

@ravenhairedtrainer

“Jeez...what am I gonna do with you?” Red really didn’t want his friend to be hurt anymore than he was, and he wasn’t sure why he was running in the first place. The boy sheilds his eyes from the sunlight and squinted so he could see what was coming close in the distance. Honestly he didn’t see anything, but just in case he was going to take the three of them somewhere else so he could tend to Ethan’s wounds.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it now, we’ll talk when I get you safe.” Since they were around Mount Silver near the border where Johto and Kanto meet, Red was sure he could safely get Ethan up to his cave and no one would be able to find them. I mean, he already found Red by accident and he never told anyone about his secret cave dwelling.

Since the fastest way to the cave was flight, Red got them on Charizard and they all took to the skies. Red tried not to make any sort of noise or cause any other commotion so they would get there with ease. Somehow they did make it and Red walked up to the boulder blocking the entrance and pushed it without breaking a sweat. Even if it was amazing to see a small boy move a big hunk of rock, Red didn’t seem to notice and acted like it was something anyone could do. As soon as everyone was in the cave, Red pushed the boulder back in place and sat on the cave ground. Rummaging through his backpack, Red pulled out a first-aid kit and began to tend to Ethan’s wounds. While living on this mountain, learning first aid and knowing how to patch up wounds were a matter of life and death. A few minutes later Ethan’s wounds were tended to with nurse like quality.

“Alright, start from the begining. Who was chasin’ you? Also please be more careful, you know how much I worry for you. I told you to stay away from Team Rocket.” His sort of irritated expression turned into a look of worry. 

“...I don’t want them after you like they’re after me...”

[harvest-honeymoon]

Raining Pitchforks

So,,, this is that Court Verse intro I talked about in the twitter poll I linked earlier. This is a long fuckin’ boy but I had a lot of fun writing it, since I really enjoy these characters.

Just as a note, this fic contains swearing, mentions of the Devil and urban legends, and 2 instances of misgendering, as Orianna/Pirouletta is a transwoman still coming to terms with her identity and hasn’t disclosed it to Sixer/King Dice. I know that subject matter can be triggering for some folks, so I’m putting a warning and ‘#misgendering tw’ for blacklisting purposes.

“Son of a bitch, whose idea was this?”

The question posed was rhetorical and often reiterated. It made Irving smile faintly and shake his head, even as he felt rainwater patter against the inside. Thunder rolled in the background, making his cup-headed brother Rudyard flinch.

Although the two toons lingered under an outcropping of trees, the torrent the sky bore seemed unyielding. The branches that loomed above them did little to shield them from the weather, let alone the handmade box of moonshine that sat at their feet. The rocky outcroppings behind them were slick from the rain. Even the mountains seemed soaked.

“You were th’ one who wanted out th’ house,” Irving replied.

“Well, yeah,” Rudy answered. “I was goin’ stir crazy! I can’t jus’ sit an’ sleep all day.”

The red toon wrung out his shirt, frowning. The bent, striped straw in his head swooped along his rim as he looked down at himself.

Although Irving didn’t pace about or bubble over, he too frowned, brow furrowed. He leaned against the damp trunk of a tree, arms folded over his chest. One hand’s set of fingers drummed on his upper arm.

“Y’think we rushed him?” Irving asked. “Made him nervous?”

“There’s nervous, then there’s leavin’ us an’ our hooch in th’ pourin’ fuckin’ rain,” Rudy said.

“I doubt he was gonna buy any of Ma’s stuff, Irv, even with th’ discount.”

Irving sighed quietly, bowing his head. Rudy picked up the box.

“C’mon, let’s go. We’ll catch our death out here.”

“We’re still fifteen bucks short.”

Rudy had started to take a step out from under the canopy, only to pause. Irv didn’t move a muscle.

“Irv, things’re tough all over,” Rudyard replied after a moment.

“It won’t be th’ end of th’ world if we tell ‘em we need a couple days. Even then, we’ve lived without electricity b’fore.”

The cup toon took the step he’d been planning, then another, starting to walk away.

“We can make candles like we used t’ when we were sippy cups. Bathe in th’ river.”

Rudy flicked his straw, so it sat comfortably at the back of his head.

“Who needs gas power anyway?”

Thunder roared just above them, causing Rudy to jump again and stop in his tracks. Unmoving, Irving glanced to the box Rudy held, his eyes lingering on its smudging XXX label.

“We promised Ma.”

Rudy swallowed, then returned to the tree. The brothers turned to look out over a field of grass beside them, each in thought.

With the heavy clouds that clung to the sky, the night was darker than most. The distant lights of Nib City hardly penetrated the gloom, only catching a set of defunct railroad tracks cutting through the prairie grass. Urban legend told of a ghostly train that had taken residence in place of the old engine, after the railway company dissolved under mysterious circumstances decades back. Nights like this guaranteed its arrival and departure for the unlucky found alone and destitute, or so folks said.

While no train occupied this space, the mere idea made Irving apprehensive. The mug-headed toon pulled out a cracked pocket watch and wiped at the glass face, to give himself something else to look at. The time read 11:59 PM, then 12 AM only a few seconds later.

At the stroke of midnight, the field was bathed in a soft, orange glow. Rudy stared, then nudged Irv to get his attention. Both pairs of eyes followed the light, which seemed to dance across the grass and shadows, to its origin, a cave in the mountainside.

This cave had its own fair share of stories, around Inkwell Isle. Some had claimed it was a bottomless pit, from which none who fell could ever escape. Some had said it was some primordial womb, where all had been born and were to die, should they try to reenter the sacred space. The most commonly held belief, however, was that the cave housed unfettered evi, so vile and conniving, the locals had blocked the entrance with stones for generations. The Devil himself was said to dwell within the cave, and should he find some hapless soul within his domain, they were most certainly damned.

Due to these superstitions and its peculiar resemblance to a yawning mouth, the cave had been dubbed The Devil’s Maw. As times changed, beliefs shifted, and explorers ventured into its depths, the aforementioned stones were removed from its entrance, but hushed whispers still spoke ill of the place and the youth were discouraged from entering its bounds.

By day, it appeared a sleepy chasm, untouched by color or sunlight… But now, it spoke with a tongue of molten silver to the young men, beckoning them inwards.

“...you’re seein’ that, right?” Irving asked.

“Sure am,” Rudy replied, awed.

“...last one there’s chipped porcelain!”

The cup toon took off like a shot across the field. Irving stalled a moment then pursued, shouting his way.

“Rudyard, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“What’s it look like?” Rudy called back. “I’m goin’ lookin’!”

“Like hell you are!”

Clutching the moonshine to his chest, Rudy’s head sloshed liquid onto his shoulders and the ground behind him, but that didn’t stop either of them any.

“We need to sell that booze!” Irving spat.

“We’ve got 4 hours at most before the best bars in Nib close!”

“I know!”

“So why are you runnin’ the complete opposite direction, jackass?!”

Rudy grinned, looking to his brother.

“First off, my head’s gonna roll off my shoulders, with all this rain in it! I need it out, an’ I bet you do too! Second off, I figure if there’s light, there’s somebody livin’ here! If there’s somebody livin’ here, then there’s somebody who can buy our shit!”

Lightning struck just behind the two brothers, causing them both to yelp in surprise. Rudy let out an adrenaline-fueled laugh.

“You can’t tell me you wanna walk home while it’s rainin’ pitchforks out here!”

With these words, the brothers entered the cave and slowed to a halt to clean themselves up.

“I don’t, y’got me there,” Irv admitted. “But I doubt there’s anyone worthwhile here. The only folks you’ll find is at best, squatters, or at worst, a cult.”

“Since when do squatters put up neon signs? ‘R cults, fer that matter?”

Irving stopped and stared, following Rudy’s hand as he pointed. A large grouping of stalactites ahead and above them was emblazoned with a quartet of neon playing cards, each with a unique suit.

“...can’t say for certain,” Irv replied, unperturbed. “But I wouldn’t discount the latter.”

Rudy’s expression flattened, his hands busy straightening his head. He then picked up his box and started walking into the depths of the cave, with Irving in tow. The air had a strong sweet-sour smell to it, but it didn’t take long for them to get used to it.

“Y’were supposed t’ let me be right about people livin’ here,” Rudy snarked.

“Y’know, fer more than half a second.”

“That was a lucky guess,” Irving observed dryly.

“A lucky guess that’ll keep us from, I dunno, gettin’ pneumonia.”

“We probably have double pneumonia already at this rate.”

Despite his annoyance, Rudy chuckled as they walked along. Double pneumonia was another staple of banter between them.

“Triple fuckin’ pneumonia with a side ‘f exposure. It was like Noah’s Ark out there.”

The brothers continued into the cave, looking about as more signs of civilization came their way. Neon arrows pointing deeper into the Maw decorated the walls, as did moving signs depicting showgirls, drinks, chess pieces, dice, and more card suits. 2 more signs reading ‘WELCOME’ and ‘CASINO ENTRANCE’ were embedded into the hanging rock of the ceiling, with a 12 ft gap between each. The air around them warmed, the further they went into the cave.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Irv deadpanned.

“No way,” Rudy beamed. “Noooo fuckin’ way--”

“Who on Earth builds a casino in a cave?”

“Someone who’s real hep an’ happenin’ I bet,” Rudy said excitedly.

“They must have some real big operation, t’ have t’ hide it in here.”

“All the more reason to head back out,” Irving snarked, eyeing the advertising.

The brothers then happened upon a series of tall, rounded steps, carpeted with lush, red cotton and accented with gold trim. Two rows of white topped stanchions marked a path with velvet rope. At their feet read the words ‘TRY★YOUR★LUCK’. Beyond these steps laid a ritzy casino built on the edge of a cliff, unlike anything either of them had ever seen. Volcanoes erupted below and beyond their line of sight, painting the domed walls and ceiling of the cavern with the orange light they’d seen outside.

Dancing on the edge of theme park and luxury hotel, buildings in the shape of archaic chess pieces surrounded the back end of the establishment, giving the resort an imposing silhouette against the newly understood berth of the cave. The main building itself was tall and sleek in design, as it was cream in color with plum windows all down its front. Topped with a reddish dome roof, past a fountain of lava circled by prancing demon statues, and betwixt a pair of oversized game dice, the hotel lacked lighted signage, save for some neon pink cursive above its red front doors.

“The Devil’s Casino?” Irving mumbled to himself.  “That’s awful kitschy,”

Irving stood, contemplating the architecture, while Rudy mounted the stairs, smiling wide.

“I was right! I was right, there’s people here, they’ve got money, I was right--”

In that moment, Rudy reached the top of the stairwell, only to bump into someone who towered over him. The cup toon took a step back and shook his head, only to realize what had just happened. The stranger seemed to have come out of nowhere.

“Aw hell, sorry about that! Didn’t see you there.”

“Y’needn’t worry, my good man.”

The toon Rudyard had bumped into had a game die for a head, a pencil-thin mustache, and a winning smile. Dressed to the nines in a cream zoot suit, shined and spatted shoes, and a pink bow tie, the stranger readjusted his suit jacket after the brush-by, but did so without making a fuss. His voice was sure to smooth over any remaining matters, as it was slick and low, but friendly.

“I was hopin’ I’d bump into you two. I heard y’halfway down th’ cavern.”

“Our apologies, sir,” Irving said, stepping forward. “The echo in here carried further than we thought.”

Rudy rolled his eyes and folded his arms. The die toon let out a short laugh.

“I didn’t say you were causin’ a racket,” the stranger replied. “There’s no need to apologize.”

“Are you here t’ play, gentlemen?”

“Yeah,” Rudy replied with confidence. “We’re here t’ pl--”

Irving put a hand over his brother’s mouth, causing Rudy to grit his teeth against his hand.

“Actually, we’re here on business.”

“That a fact now? Well, I s’ppose I should introduce myself then,” the suited toon replied.

He put forward a gloved hand for Irving to shake.

“Name’s Heath Cesarano. My friends call me Sixer, an’ I own Th’ Devil’s Casino.”

“Irving Biccheiri,” the blue toon introduced himself. “This is my brother, Rudyard. We run a bootlegging business out in the Scapes.”

Irving and Heath shook hands, freeing Rudy in the process. Although he seemed miffed by his brother’s invasion of personal space, the red toon shook Sixer’s hand as well, when it was offered to him. On mention of bootlegging, the die toon’s eyebrow quirked in interest.

“Is that what you’ve got in your hands there?” Heath asked, gesturing to the box in Rudy’s arms.

“Finest stuff on the east end of the Isle,” Rudy boasted.

“We’re looking to sell it,” Irving explained.

“I see,” Heath said, rubbing his chin in thought. “Do y’mind if I sample your wares?”

“Be our guest,” Rudy replied. Irving swallowed beside him.

On choosing a bottle, Sixer uncorked it and took a sip,  hen pulled it away from his mouth. He smacked his lips as he tasted the spirits, then smiled at the young men.

“Say, that’s not half bad,” he remarked. “You boys’ve got somethin’ in the making, definitely.”

“In the making?” Irving asked. “Or worth selling?”

“Hah, you’ve keen ears,” Heath observed. His tone shifted as he spoke, sounding authoritative.

“I’m afraid that while I like what you’ve got, I can’t sell it at my establishment, nor can I let you sell it too close by. Th’ folks in there are lookin’ for high-quality hooch from names they know an’ can trust.”

Irving’s expression saddened with these words. Rudy took note and moved in front of Irving, looking Heath dead in the eye.

“No offense, Mr. Cesarano,” Rudy said. “But we’ve been selling our stuff all up an’ down th’ Isle.”

“We’re in some of th’ bars you’ll find in Nib City, an’ real popular in th’ Scapes.”

“That might be so,” Sixer replied. “But I only just met you boys t’night.”

“I’ve got a certain standard to meet at th’ behest of my landlord. It’s nothin’ personal.”

Rudy looked ready to argue but held off. Irving didn’t speak further, though it was clear he was trying to put on a brave face.

“We appreciate yer business, regardless,” Rudy told their new acquaintance. “That’ll be $3.”

Sixer pulled out four dollar bills and handed them to Irving. Irving paused, looking over the money in his hands, then looked to Sixer questioningly. Sixer winked, then spoke up again.

“If it ain’t too much t’ ask… Why are you boys lookin’ to sell, anyhow?”

Irving’s hands curled, as he folded his arms over his chest again.

“Simple,” Rudy answered, mirroring his brother’s gesture.

“We got bills t’ pay an’ mouths t’ feed, same as anybody. Rent’s comin’ up t’morrow an’ we’re eleven bucks short.”

“Ah,” Sixer replied. “My apologies for proddin’.”

“It is what it is. No need to be sorry.”

“I’m guessin’ you can’t sell much back in th’ Scapes, then?” Sixer prodded. “With yer presence?”

“Well, not right now, yeah,” Rudy agreed.

“We were s’pposed t’ meet somebody from Nib City for a deal,” Irving added. “But he didn’t show.”

“The storm caught up with us not long after.”

Sixer’s expression softened a little as the boys explained their situation. After a moment of thought, this softness faded away, instead replaced with a wily glint to the older toon’s eye.

“That’s a real shame that fella skipped out on ya, but I don’t think you’re out of luck for th’ night.”

Rudy looked on with interest. He had a feeling he knew where Heath was going.

“You could always take a shot at the games here,” Sixer continued. “If nothin’ else, you could dry off an’ get somethin’ to tide yourselves over.”

“I hear that storm ain’t s’pposed to let up until noon t’morrow. You won’t wanna be crossin’ those tracks out front if you can help it.”

Rudy considered the die-head’s words. Irving exhaled breath through his nose.

“You boys ever gambled b’fore?”

“I might be half yer size but I ain't-a kid,” Rudy scoffed. “Course I have.”

“Rudy, we should get going,” Irving muttered. “We couldn’t make a sale an’ we’re dry enough.”

“We couldn’t make a sale, sure,” Rudy replied. “But I could make a wager.”

Irving glowered at the prospect. Rudy frowned in response.

“Irving, if I play here, I could win us the cash we need t’ pay off rent t’morrow! We don’t gotta trudge out there, we don’t gotta get stood up-- It’ll be a cinch!”

The mug-head still didn’t look convinced, so Rudy put both of his hands on his shoulders, turning him away from Sixer so their discussion could be more private.

“Irving… C’mon, Irv. You’ve been workin’ yerself to th’ bone all month.”

Irving’s gaze went half-lidded. In the firelight and neon, the bags under his eyes could easily be seen. All the while, Sixer watched the young men talk to each other, grinning to himself knowingly.

“Let me handle th’ moneymakin’, you take a load off, an’ we can wait this out t’gether. You don’t gotta lift a finger.”

After a moment of consideration, the blue toon sighed.

“...Alright. If you think you can.”

“I know I can,” Rudy beamed. “They don’t call me Big Red fer nothin’.”

Irving cringed, making Rudy snicker. Sixer took a step forward, smiling.

“With a nickname like that, I can’t help but ask; you a craps player, by chance?”

“S’my favorite way t’ gamble!” Rudy answered, slinging an arm over Irv’s shoulders. Irving’s eyes narrowed.

“In that case, you should head on in an’ take a left, then a right,” Sixer advised.

“You’ll find our craps tables real easy.”

Rudy clinked his head against his brother’s as a gesture of affection, then took off into the casino, still holding the box of moonshine. Irving chose not to match his pace this time, as fatigue was starting to weigh on him. Sixer noticed as he looked down at his other pint-sized patron.

“And you?” Sixer asked. “Any preference?”

“I’m a cards guy,” Irving admitted. “But I don’t gamble, let alone in a place plastered with devils.”

Sixer’s grin got tight around the edges as he moved to Irving’s side.

“Aw, wheat, you superstitious ‘r somethin’? Don’t get yer suspenders in a twist, it’s just a motif.”

As the two walked into the casino, the various eyes of the devils in the decorating watched Irving as he passed. Irving didn’t notice at that moment, though he did feel oddly watched.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Irving replied. “What with that train track comment.”

“Hah, I wouldn’t call myself superstitious,” Sixer started.

“More just… Aware. I’ve had my fair share of experiences that’ve made me privy to the goings on around these parts.”

“Uh huh,” Irving replied, a bit distracted.

It was hard to blame him, with the hullabaloo going on around them, but Sixer still had to resist the urge to give him a dirty look. A uniformed toon with a heart for a head moved up beside Sixer to whisper something to him, before departing from the conversation.

The die toon looked down at the mug toon again, giving him an apologetic smile.

“As much as I’d love to continue our talk, I’m afraid I’ve got business t’ attend to. You’ll find our bars well stocked and lounges abound. If y’need anything, keep your eyes out for folks dressed like her--”

The die-head gestured to the heart toon, as she weaved in and out of the crowd.

“Or come find me. Oh, an’ I want you to have this.”

Heath extended a business card between two fingers to Irving. The card was matte and emblazoned with a devil, a pair of purple pipped dice, and multiple red roses. It even had gold trim.

“Like I was sayin’ earlier, you boys’ve got good stuff. I might take you up on the offer we discussed, should you improve yer product.”

“Thank you, sir,” Irving replied without enthusiasm.

“Please, call me Sixer. And if we don’t meet again, Irving, I hope you have a good night.”

“Likewise.”

With that, Sixer blended into the crowd, leaving each cup brother to their own devices.

— — —

By the time Irving supposed he ought to find his brother, an hour had passed. How, he had little idea.

One moment, he was being served water by an orange cocktail toon in a blue dress; the next, swing music roared through the halls, signaling the start of some sort of nightly shindig. Checking his pocket watch, the blue toon got up with a start and nearly fell off his barstool, but managed to tip his bartender and head out of the lounge without further trouble.

The joint reeked of booze, cigar smoke, and metal, with a tinge of marijuana and sweat, no matter what room he walked through. Noise constantly rang in his ears, ranging from vapid conversations and bad pick up lines to the obnoxious rattling, slamming, and pinging of an arcade. Top it off with the crowds of people trying to shout over the noise, and subsequently, each other, and Irving swore his porcelain head was going to crack from the decibel count.

It didn’t help that the damned place was so dark. For whatever reason, the architect had opted for interiors that caught shadows like a hungry spider, coupled with luminaires akin to candlelight. This only made the sounds louder, the smells stronger, and Irving’s mood worsen.

The mug toon’s discontent was so clear, it made Rudy pause just before throwing down his dice in another round of craps.

“Where were you?”  Irving demanded.

“Busy,” Rudy said as he rolled. “What’s it look like?”

The dice hit the wall of the table, revealing a 12. Rudy winced.

The dealer came over and took half a stack of chips, handing them over to a skeleton in a bow tie and a bowler hat. The patron leered at him, making Rudy grouse and pull what little stacks he had close to him.

“I hit a good streak while you were takin’ a break, so I’m ridin’ it.”

”How good?” Irving prodded

“Those chips are worth $1,” Rudy said, pointing to his hoard and across the table.

“Those’re worth $5, an’ these are worth $10. I even managed to squeeze a 25 out of an Aussie on th’ far end.”

Irving glanced up, seeing a skeletal, bipedal horse where Rudy gestured. The equine toon looked mean, even for a dead man.

“This is more than enough, then,” Irving figured, averting his eyes to Rudyard’s chips.

“It was,” Rudy said. “Until you threw me off.”

He shot his brother a glare, as the crowd cheered for another patron.

“Now I gotta win it back.”

“Do you still have what we made outside?” Irving pressed.

“‘Course I do! I ain’t as dumb as I look,” Rudy exclaimed.

“Then... What are you gamblin’ with?”

Rudy rolled the dice again, earning himself a $5 chip.

“My soul. I cashed it out for $75 in chips.”

Irving stared at his brother in disbelief.

“What?” Rudy asked. “I didn’t wanna spend th’ money you got.”

“Rudy, we’re in a casino named after the Devil.”

“Yeah? And?”

“What do you think the cashier meant when they said you could bet your soul?”

“Th’ cashier didn’t tell me nothin’. Some dominohead he was talkin’ to told me it’s a secret transaction unique to this joint. Th’ guy looked like a high roller, so I gave it a try. I didn’t have to hand any money over or anythin’.”

“They just… Gave you the chips?”

“No, I had to sign somethin’ beforehand,” Rudy shrugged. “But that was about it.”

“Did you even read it?”

“I skimmed it,” Rudy admitted. “It was just some casino contract. No big deal.”

Irving looked like he was going to ascend, the longer Rudy went on. Before Irving could chew his brother out, both toons felt powerful hands on their outermost shoulders.

“Hi-de-ho, gentlemen,” Sixer greeted them. “How goes your game?”

“Oh, I’m the only one playin’,” Rudy explained. “But it’s been goin’ alright.”

“I took up that soul deal ‘f yours for these chips. We’ll be eatin’ like kings t’night!”

“Did you now? An’ how’d you find out ‘bout it?”

The look in Heath’s eyes was too pleased for Irving’s liking. The die-head, as if reading his thoughts, moved his hands off them and stood beside Rudy, as the two talked.

“I was talkin’ to some domino guy in a boater hat, at th’ cashier’s booth. He’s the one who clued me in.”

“That’d be my buddy Pippin,” Sixer remarked warmly. “He helps me run th’ joint.”

“Does your ‘buddy’ happen to swoop in on every country boy who walks through your door?”

Sixer was about to say something, only to pause with Irving’s comment.

“Awful convenient he was there to give Rudy the news. Especially since you were the only person we told about our situation.”

The suited toon chuckled lightly. Irving could feel the air chill.

“Pippin doesn’t swoop, Irving. He loves people as much as anybody.”

Rudy, half listening to their conversation, rolled another turn and scored an 11. The table roared in approval, the dealer slipping him a couple stacks for winning the bet. Ironically, the dealer had a head of stacked chips himself, his face lined with horizontal stripes of orange, blue, and indigo.

Irving immediately set to work counting the chips. Sixer eyed him with a sharpening gaze.

“So with that ‘soul swap’ you did and our remaining debt, you’d need... 86 bucks to break even.”

“How much more do I need?” Rudy glanced his brother’s way, catching his worn expression.

“10 bucks.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Rudy swore. “This table’s been colder than a meat locker most of th’ night.”

“Why don’t we raise the stakes, then?”

Sixer said this while motioning to the dealer, shooting Rudy a playful smirk.

“Sharps, get me a stack of fives, wouldja? I’m bettin’ th’ pass line.”

Sharps did as he was told, passing Sixer 20 $5 chips in exchange for a crisp $100 bill. The rest of the table’s players backed away, including the horse toon. Despite the change in atmosphere, Rudy grinned right back, a fire in his eyes.

Irving folded his arms tightly as the two men started to compete, forcing himself to watch the table instead of risking catching Sixer’s eye. There was something about the die-head that bothered him more than most, but he couldn’t place why, and that fact put him on edge.

A litany of rounds passed, but Irving wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone all of what happened. Some rolls got yells in glee, others had people throwing their hats to the floor. Chips went all around the rim of the table every which way, at dizzying speed. People chattered ceaselessly. The room seemed filled with eyes, all boring down on him and his brother.

Eventually, Rudy called out through the clamor, hopping up on the edge of the craps table to stand above the crowd. He breathed hard, face aglow from the adrenaline of gambling.

“Alright, you lot! This’ll be my last play!!”

Irving started to sigh in relief, only for Sixer to speak up. The die toon’s tone dripped with confidence and charisma, as he loomed over the craps’ table.

“If that’s th’ case, then I wager my soul an’ Sharps’! Right here, right now!”

Sixer pushed forward his remaining chips, which totaled to $150. The crowd whooped and laughed, eating up Heath’s enthusiasm like it was an inside joke. Sharps smirked faintly, shaking his head.

“Come an’ get me, small fry!”

The cup toon’s eyes rolled in his porcelain head like slots, turning to a pair of dollar signs.

“You’re on, Cesarano!”

Irving held his breath and lifted his head from watching the table, only to stare at something beyond the mass of people around them.

Across the room, there stood a great tapestry of imps and hellish creatures, galavanting through what appeared to be a monochrome jungle. Stretching high above the heads of the patrons gathered around, Irving would’ve figured it some priceless artifact… If the eyes of its inhabitants didn’t roll as well and fix on him. A chill spread throughout the mug toon’s chest.

“Rudyard,” Irving tried to say. “Rudy, we shouldn’t be here--”

“Irv, step off, I’ve got this.”

“No, you don’t. We need to go, now.”

The people around Irving booed, causing a ripple throughout the rest of the crowd. Rudy grimaced and threw his fists to his sides, midway through blowing into his rolling hand for good luck. His eyes had returned to their normal pie cut irises.

“I mean it, Irv, I don’t need your shit right now,” Rudy said sharply. “Let me do my thing.”

“My shit?” Irving demanded. “My shit?!”

“I’ve been dealing with your shit ever since we got here, Rudyard, and I’ve had it! If I weren’t exhausted from doing all the damn work back home, I would’ve dragged you out of here by your handle!”

The mug toon took a step forward, getting up in his brother’s face and earning more protest from the crowd. Rudy’s expression got dark, the liquid in his head bubbling.

“Well, now whose fault is that?” Rudy seethed.

“You never let me do fuck anythin’! I’m trying to do you a goddamn favor, so if you could sit the hell back and pull yer straw out of yer ass, I’d appreciate it!”

“Gambling isn’t a favor!” Irving spat. “Gambling is you, slacking off, getting into trouble, giving Ma a fuckin’ heart attack--!”

“You leave her the fuck outta this—” Rudy threatened.

“Then fold the damn game!” Irving ordered.

The cup toon clenched his teeth and looked his brother square in the eye.

“Fuck. You.”

Rudy threw down the dice forcefully, making them bounce hard against the back wall. Irving grabbed his wrist hard enough to bruise, but the damage was already done.

Snake eyes.

The crowd let out a low moan of sympathy and dissipated behind them. Now Rudy felt the same cold as his brother, looking down at the craps table. Irving stared down as well, then threw the cup toon’s wrist away, storming through the crowd and towards a doorway leading out of the craps room.

The moment he got a foot through the door, the mug toon collided with something hard enough to make him stumble backward. Irving sat up to protest, only to stop. In the meanwhile, Sixer made his way over to Rudy, putting a hand on his shoulder again, but without the camaraderie of before.

“Well, ain’t that a shame?”

A black sigil blocked the doorway. Looking around the room, similar occult drawings blocked the other doors, effectively trapping them in the room. Irving’s head moved Sixer and Rudy’s direction, hearing the snap of Heath’s fingers. With this motion, the contract Rudy signed appeared in Heath’s hand, which he proceeded to unroll and read over.

“Mhhm. As I suspected. You, my friend, are in debt.”

“Y’don’t gotta rub it in,” Rudy said quietly.

“Oh, I ain’t rubbin’,” Heath hummed. “But I’m gonna need both of your souls, as per our agreement.”

“What?”

Irving got up and stumbled back their way. Rudy couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I said,” Heath repeated. “As per our agreement, I’m gonna need both of yer souls, since that’s what I won in our wager.”

“Our souls?” Rudy asked. “As in… Immortal souls?”

“Mhhm,” Heath agreed. The die toon seemed detached, as if he’d gone through this spiel before.

“Why do you need his?” Rudy asked, pointing to Irving. “I’m th’ only one who signed.”

Heath smiled and shook his head, offering the contract for Rudy to read and reciting the terms off his head for Irving.

“Paragraph four, section one, addendum one. ‘Should the client be unable to pay a debt or a wager, due to a lack of necessary, spiritual capital, souls within the client’s company including, but not limited to, friends, family, pets, et cetera, shall be collected as seen fit, in order to ensure a fair transaction between the associated parties.’”

Rudy’s shoulders sank. Irving stepped forward to stand next to Rudy, though he kept distance between them. He stared hard at Sixer, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“...so we’re damned, then,” the mug toon said eventually

“Essentially,” Sixer replied. “I wagered my soul an’ my dealer’s in th’ form of those chips. Ergo, two souls. Rudyard here only had th’ chips to cover one.”

“I didn’t think you could wager a soul,” Rudy said, with a little laugh.

“I-I thought it was a steal… I… I...”

“Aw, don’t beat yerself up, wheat,” Sixer said, waving his hand dismissively. “Hell ain’t so bad.”

“I visit from time t’ time. It’s a little on th’ warm side, as you could imagine, but it ain’t all fire an’ brimstone.”

“...may I see that?” Irving asked, gesturing to Heath’s hand.

“Sure thing, kid.”

Heath handed over the contract, which Irving proceeded to scour. Rudy looked to Sixer with wide, sad eyes, mouth faintly open as if he was trying to protest. Sixer averted his gaze from the cup toon, opting for Irving instead.

“Here.”

Irving pressed his finger next to another paragraph and turned the paper Sixer’s way, then back to himself, to read.

“...paragraph six, section six. ‘Should a client wish for the return of their immortal soul, they are allowed to perform a designated task for the interested party, according to said party’s jurisdiction. This can include the retrieval of items and other souls, the harm or killing of another person, with or without a body, assistance in correspondence between the party and others, et cetera. Should the task be agreed upon by both entities and completed by the client, the client’s soul, and any souls hitherto collected, shall be restored.’”

As Irving read, Heath’s eyebrows furrowed, then perked, as he thought on these words. He got a wicked smile, seeing Irving’s angle.

“So you wanna work for me to get ‘em back, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” Irving said, with a stony tone. The word ‘sir’ dripped venom.

“Well then you boys are lucky,” Heath remarked. “Cuz you ain’t the only ones who got rent t’ pay.”

The pair of siblings stared, apprehensive.

“I need souls like yours t’ keep the lights on here. My landlord ain’t interested in, ah, standard currency. There’s been a trend ‘round these parts of people comin’ to my place, sellin’ their souls to get chips… Then duckin’ out, whether they win or lose.”

Heath’s expression darkened. As he was 6’6”, he towered over the brothers, who each were around 4’0”, making him appear quite imposing.

“Now boys,” Heath went on. “Think of me what y’will, but I ain't-a cruel man.”

“I have it that my contract necessitates collection, but not immediately so. I let folks say their goodbyes, I let ‘em tie up loose ends… Hell, sometimes I let folks keep their souls ‘til their natural end if it strikes my fancy. I also know these folks are strugglin’, same as you. Everyone’s tryin’ t’ get by, however they can.”

Sixer paced around the cup toons as he spoke, fixing the rose in his lapel. He reminded Rudy of a jaguar, and Irving a cobra.

“But,” Heath concluded. “I believe that when terms like this are broken, they require punishment.”

“These folks agreed, like you, to hand over their souls and they know it. The lot of ‘em raided my casino a month ago an’ made off with their contracts, no doubt to try an’ forge up new terms, conditions, ‘r signatures. Those puppies are enchanted, so they can’t be altered by anybody but me, but I still need the physical copy I signed with my clients. They grant me proof of ownership.”

“So you want us t’ be yer repo men,” Rudy clarified. “Is what yer sayin’?”

“When it comes down t’ brass tacks, yes,” Heath agreed. “But you won’t be killin’ nobody unless you have to.”

“Those contracts have an agreed death date, as does yours. When I cash in, the clients will die as agreed, an’ their souls will be collected.”

“How efficient,” Irving said sarcastically. “How long do we have?”

“I’m sure you can guess,” Sixer hummed.

Irving screwed up his face, then let out a low, pained breath.

“Six days, six hours, and six minutes.”

Sixer smirked in surprise.

“I was right about you,” he said. “You really got a good head on those shoulders.”

“Sixer, all and no disrespect at once,” Irving deadpanned. “But I don’t give a shit.”

“You really should,” Heath purred in amusement. “It can get you places.”

Sixer slipped his hand into his pocket, then extended it to Rudy. Enclosed in his grip was $11.

“Consider this a deposit.”

Rudy took the money reluctantly, looking at Sixer with daggers. Sixer only smiled, like a cat who’d swallowed a canary. Once the money was exchanged, the sigils in the doorways disappeared.

Irving took initiative and walked out of the casino with long, punchy strides. Rudy followed not long after, leaving Sixer alone in the room. Once he was sure the brothers had gone, he called out to the rest of his patrons.

“Y’all can come out now, they’ve up and left!”

Like magic, the room was filled with people again, all getting up to raucous gambling and other forms of sinning. Sixer left the room with an accomplished laugh, dusting his gloved hands off each other. A moment later, he was seized by his bow tie and dragged down to someone else’s eye level.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

His captor was none other than his underboss Orianna ‘The Wheel’ Romano, a golden, geometric automaton in a dealer’s suit. Her nasally New Yorker accent bore into Sixer’s ears, but he didn’t mind at that moment.

“Giraudo, pal, you’re just the man I wanted to see!”

Sixer beamed on seeing her, but Orianna didn’t return the gesture. The name he called her made her uncomfortable, and while normally she could stomach its use, their current situation cut into her patience. She chose to press onwards in conversation and let go of him though, as she knew he meant no harm by it.

“You say dat every time I come sniffin’ you out, boss,” she huffed. “Now answer da question. I’ve been two steppin’ through dis helter skelter all night lookin’ for youse.”

“Sorry about that,” Sixer apologized. “I was outside earlier doin’ some carnival barkin’.”

“Carnival barkin’?” Orianna scoffed with a grin. “What year is it, 1925? Don’t we have people fer dat?”

“Sure, but I’m a professional.,” Sixer said with a sly wink. “Went t’ trade school and everything. I can’t let that degree get rusty.”

Orianna rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling a little.

“Don’t suppose ya roped in somethin’ to fix us bein’ 19 souls short?”

“Actually,” Heath replied, smug. “The funniest thing jus’ happened.”

Orianna looked his way, tilting her tapered head like some great bird.

“I bagged two souls jus’ now. Pair of cup headed folks from th’ Scapes. One of ‘em signed a contract but got in two souls deep.”

“Oh, y’pulled the old ‘one two’ on ‘em?” the robot prodded, interested.

“Yeah,” Heath agreed. “The one who didn’t sign was onto me, but the other guy? Pff, it was like takin’ candy from a baby. No impulse control t’ speak of.”

“Gee, don’t dat sound like somebody I know,” Orianna snarked knowingly.

Now it was Heath’s turn to roll his eyes, but his smirk didn’t die away. He was used to this line of talk between them.

“So we’re only down 17 now?” Orianna clarified. “Dat’s good, but I don’t get how dat’s a rip-snorter.”

“A what now?” Heath asked with a little laugh.

“A rip-snorter,” she reiterated. “Y’know, somethin’ real good an’ goin’ our way?”

“You sure Kahl didn’t fit ya with a faulty lexicon there, Romano?” Heath prodded playfully.

“It’s a real fuckin’ word, y’goon,” she insisted, gesturing with her thumb over her shoulder. “Ask around town.”

“Alright, fine, later,” Heath conceded. “Still, though, that one who didn’t sign asked t’ see the contract.”

“No shit. An’ den what?”

“He volunteered the two of em t’ get back our receipts,” Heath explained. “Under paragraph 6.”

A beat passed. Orianna’s eyebrows rose and settled, intrigued.

“An’... How old are dese guys ‘xactly?” she asked.

“21 ‘r so,” Heath said.

“Twenty one—“ Orianna rested her forehead in her hand.

“Please tell me dey got magic.”

“...I… Didn’t see,” Heath admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“...we’re outsourcin’ collect fer our boondogglin’ t’ a couple twenty somethin’s,” Orianna summarized flatly. “An’ you didn’t even check if dey got magic?”

“It’s not every day y’get free labor,” Sixer tried to reason with a shy shrug.

Orianna closed her eyes tightly.

“...Heath,” she said. “Why da hell didja agree t’ dat?”

Heath started to speak, only for his underboss to interrupt him.

“We got people fer dat, y’know. Lotsa people, actually, who’d be willin’ to chase down dose contracts for ya at da drop of a hat. Why on Earth didja cut a deal like dat wid a couple a bumpkins too far from home?”

“I know we got people,” Heath said. “But those folks who ran off with our shit don’t fuck around. I don’t want t’ lose anybody unnecessarily.”

“Unneces— Caesar, dis ain’t da minor leagues any more!” Orianna barked.

She grabbed his bow tie again, so that they wouldn’t be so easily heard. Her voice was a sharp whisper.

“Who gives a shit if a coupla card heads die chasin’ down Cagney Carnation or whoever da fuck? We got people all over da place who’d kill t’ be runnin’ wid us!”

“I got that,” Cesarano growled. “But we gotta play this smart, Gira. That last raid got our boys Chimes an’ Pocus killed, on top of a stack of card heads. We don’t know if those debtors are tag teamin’ still or flyin’ solo.”

“Don’t talk t’ me about playin’ shit smart,” Orianna seethed. “It’s my job t’ play shit smart. Or didja forget that while you were tryin’ to be 25 all over again?”

Heath pulled himself from Orianna’s grip, baring his teeth. Orianna gave him a hard stare.

“You watch your tongue,” Heath warned.

“An’ you keep dat bleedin’ heart ‘f yers on a damn leash,” Orianna said frankly.

“Just what the hell is that supposed t’ mean?”

“It means yer not thinkin’ straight.”

Orianna rested her arms on her hips, gesticulating in fluid, mechanical motions.

“It’s a shame we lost Chimes an’ Pocus but dat’s how it is sometimes, Heath. You of all people should know. An’ cuttin’ a deal wit’ dose kids? Dey’re adults, even if dey’re dumber dan a sack a bricks. Dey came here of deir own free will, an’ dey lost da draw. Why negotiate?”

Heath’s expression dipped, as Orianna continued.

“You dink dey can do all dat in six days? Or did one of ‘em give you puppy eyes ‘til ya bent fer ‘em?”

“I think they can,” Heath replied sharply.

“On what merit?”

“...they just…” Heath started. “I felt it, in ‘em. They had strong spirits, I guess. Reminded me of myself, back in those days.”

“If some scrappy kid from th’ Bleed could rise up, why couldn’t they?”

“Cuz—“ Orianna started, but caught herself. She hated being the bad cop in these kind of situations, so she exhaled some steam from her back vents, mirroring a sigh.

“...you really dink these kids got dis in da bag?” Orianna tried again.

“They might need a little help,” Heath admitted. “But I have… 80% confidence they got this.”

Orianna raised an eyebrow. Heath faltered.

“...ok, make that more of a 65%.”

“Dat’s what I figured,” the automaton remarked dryly.

“How do you think we should do this, then?” he asked.

“If I were you,” she said. “I would’ve sent a buncha card guys out dree weeks ago an’ kept ‘em pumpin’ ‘til we got dose contracts. If we needed reinforcements, I’d send dat lughead Iggy, August, ‘r Sharps out t’ finish da job. If we didn’t get any dice by dat point, den I woulda sent da kids as da clean up crew.”

Heath winced. Orianna noticed.

“Ah, sorry, analytic brain got goin’ dere,” she said with a modest expression.

“It’s alright,” Sixer said. “What should we do now?”

“If I were you, Mr. Sentimental,” she restarted. “Den I’d keep an eye on dose kids, either drough other people or checkin’ on deir progress myself, cuz I just can’t stand sittin’ behind a desk all day, drownin’ in paperwoik, an’ hearin’ my underboss tear me a new asshole wid ‘er brass teeth.

Heath let out a laugh, making Orianna smile.

“I’d use dose dorky die houses I got back in 1919 as a temporary base ‘f operations,” Orianna continued, still digging into her boss. “I’d hire somebody t’ trail those cup toons, an’ I’d default control of da casino to Pip.”

“To Pip?” Heath said between snickers.

“Yeah, cuz I’m comin’ with you, jackass!” Orianna said, earning another laugh from him. “Dis is a batshit crazy scheme you’ve cooked up an’ it’s my job t’ see it drough!”

“Alright, alright,” Heath giggled. “If that’s th’ case, you tell Pip he’s head honcho, I’ll handle the dick.”

“‘Course you will,” Orianna muttered playfully.

“What was that?”

“What? I can’t hear you over da sound of all these assholes partyin’! I’ll catch ya later, boss!”

Both of them laughed as they parted ways, with Orianna heading back the way she came and Heath to his office.

Once inside and away from the bustle of the game rooms, Heath sank into a purple leather chair and pulled out an address book. He thumbed through a couple pages, then let out an ‘ah-hah’ when he found the name he was looking for.

He picked up a white rotary phone and dialed the number under the name, the fingers of one hand tangling in the cord connecting the receiver and base. The dial up tone ceased after a couple moments.

“Hello hello! This is Alice, your operator. How may I help you?”

“Alice, doll, it’s great t’ hear from ya,” Sixer said warmly. “I hope you lot are enjoyin’ yer new gear down at th’ station.”

“We’ve never had smoother calls, sir,” Alice cooed. “Thank you. Is there something I could help you with?”

“Yeah, could you be a dear an’ get me Mike Phone?” he requested. “He runs that detective agency by th’ Bleed?”

“Of course, sir. Have a good night.”

“Likewise, sweetheart,” Heath purred. “Don’t stay up too late now.”

The call then transferred over a couple moments later. A masculine voice with a built in crackle spoke up.

“You’ve reached Transducer Detective Agency, Michael R. Phone speaking.”

“Hi-de-ho, Mike,” Heath greeted him through the phone, grinning wide.

“I’ve got a job for ya.”

[champofpallet-moved]

@tigernightfury14

The boy rubs the back of his head as he sees his girlfriend sit alone. He wanted to help Selena somehow. But how? Red sits beside her and puts an arm around her holding her close.

“S-Somethin’ wrong, Selena?”

[velarycns]

   ♔  →  westeros  presents  AETHAN VELARYON,  the  LORD OF THE TIDES / MASTER  of  DRIFTMARK.  a  raven  sent  word  that  he  bears  the  resemblance  to  CHARLIE HUNNAM.  the  THIRTY-EIGHT  year  old  MALE  was  EXPERIENCED & PRAGMATIC  before  the  dawn  of  war,  but  have  now  become  INEXORABLE & TACITURN.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  THE POINT OF A VALYRIAN BLADE SCRAPING ACROSS BLOODSTAINED STONE, THE INFERNO FROM A DRAGON’S THROAT ENGULFING VAST LANDS ; THE DECAYING ECHO OF ITS TERMINATING ROAR && AN ARMED MAN MOUNTED UPON REARING DESTRIER FACING THE CALAMITOUS FRAY ALONE.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  HOUSE TARGARYEN / THEMSELVES,  but  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.

BASICS

BIRTH  NAME  :  aethan  velaryon.

FORMER  TITLE / S :  lord  of  driftmark.

CURRENT  TITLE / S  :  lord  of  the  tides,  master  of  driftmark.

REGION  OF  ORIGIN  :  driftmark,  blackwater  bay,  the  crownlands.

SWORN  ALLEGIANCE  :  house  velaryon,  house  targaryen.

AGE  :  thirty  and  eight  /  1st  day  of  the  11th  moon.

ORIENTATION  : cis - male  /  demisexual  /  demiromantic.

STATUS  :  unmarried  with  no  children.

RELIGION  :  n/a.

SPOKEN  LANGUAGES  : the  common  tongue  (  fluent  ),  the  old  tongue  (  fluent  ),  high  valyrian  (  fluent  ),  low  valyrian  (  fluent  ),  summer  tongue  (  intermediate  ),  dothraki  (  intermediate  ),  highly  educated  in  the  art  of  language  due  to  his  valyrian  heritage.

OTHER  ABILITIES  :  formidable  warrior,  excellent  horseman  and  sailor,  affinity  for  dragons.

PERSONALITY

TYPE  :  istj,  the  logistician.

MORAL  ALIGNMENT  :  lawful  neutral.

ASTROLOGICAL  SIGN  :  scorpio.

HABITS  :  folding  arms,  rolling  shoulders.  

PHYSICALITY

HAIR  COLOR  :  ashen  blond  /  silver.

EYE  COLOR  :  dark  indigo  /  deep  purple.

HEIGHT  :  6′1.

WEIGHT  :  200lbs.

BUILD  :  broad  /  muscular.

DISTINGUISHING  MARKS  :  various,  slight  scars  from  battle  but  most  notably  are  lattice  whipping  scars  received  during  his  imprisonment  by  the  lannisters.

HISTORY  //  HEADCANONS

the  second  eldest  son  of  daemon  and  alarra,  he  possessed  an  elder  brother  named  monford,  a  younger  half - brother  by  the  name  of  aurane  waters,  and  a  younger  brother  and  sister  after  him.  monford  perishes  during  robert’s  rebellion  (  with  their  father  daemon  soon  following  in  death  a  few  years  later  ),  and  monford’s  son,  monterys,  perishes  alongside  aurane  waters  during  the  war  of  the  five  kings,  leaving  a  nephew  by  monford  entitled  jacaerys  beneath  the  care  of  aethan.  as  aethan  held  no  heirs  of  his  own,  jacaerys  was  swiftly  taken  in  and  considered  his  son.  the  lord  of  the  tides  and  master  of  driftmark  at  only  sixteen,  aethan  was  forced  to  arm  himself  with  a  man’s  duties  and  abilities  rather  early  in  life.  his  house’s  council  urged  him  to  seek  a  wife  in  order  to  possess  an  heir  of  his  own,  but  aethan  was  occupied  with  his  nephew  (  adopted  son  ),  and  securing  a  future  for  his  remaining  brother  and  sister.

when  house  baratheon  fell,  aethan  knew  it  was  only  a  matter  of  time  before  the  lannisters  and  their  forces  would  move  on  driftmark.  arranging  a  deal  with  the  north  as  well  as  their  remaining  baratheon  allies,  aethan  managed  to  secure  an  escape  for  his  brother,  sister,  and  adopted  son.  unbeknownst  to  him,  however,  jacaerys  had  abscond  from  the  ship  before  it  left  port  and  remained  at  driftmark  upon  the  arrival  of  lannister  forces,  wishing  to  fight  alongside  his  adoptive  father.  refusing  to  bend  the  knee  or  aid  their  cause,  having  been  a  supporter  of  stannis  beforehand,  aethan  was  arrested  and  imprisoned  (  though  slew  a  fair  amount  of  opposing  forces  including  members  of  the  kingsguard  before  he  and  jacaerys  were  overcome  ),  and  forced  to  witness  the  brutal  murder  of  jacaerys,  a  boy  of  only  thirteen  before  being  stolen  from  his  seat  at  driftmark.  tortured  for  a  time  while  holding  the  knowledge  he  would  be  beheaded,  the  battle  of  the  crownlands  would  become  his  liberation.  with  the  aid  of  targaryen  forces  he  was  freed,  immediately  arming  himself  and  joining  their  cause.  at  the  end  of  the  battle,  driftmark  was  once  again  in  the  hands  of  house  velaryon  where  a  war - torn  family  could  be  united,  though  aethan  remains  unforgiving,  and  has  been  since  the  day  he  lost  jacaerys.

within  the  vaults  of  high  tide,  a  black  &&  gold  dragon  egg  resides.  as  a  boy,  aethan  would  sit  for  hours  with  the  egg  in  his  lap  in  hopes  of  its  hatching,  but  soon  forgot  the  dream  as  time  bled  onward  to  reveal  darker  and  more  pressing  matters  for  his  house.  however,  with  daenerys’  return  to  dragonstone  && dragons  of  her  own,  he’s  been  reminded  of  the  egg’s  existence  and  what  it  may  become  of  it.

aethan  has  taught  the  entirety  of  his  family  how  to  fight  (  as  well  as  educated  them  in  general  ).  as  it  was  always  something  he  believed  in,  and  necessary  as  house  velaryon  became  outnumbered  and  stood  alone,  he  is  a  firm  believer  of  bearing  the  knowledge  of  combat,  as  you  can  only  depend  on  yourself  in  the  end.

the  prospect  of  marriage  is  a  sour  topic  for  aethan.  firmly  believing  his  son  was  jacaerys,  aethan  holds  no  desire  for  marriage  or  children  of  his  own,  believing  that  dream  died  alongside  his  adopted  son.  the  remainder  of  his  life,  as  he  sees  it,  will  be  spent  on  vengeance  and  protecting  the  remainder  of  his  family.

the  velaryon  ancestral  blade,  leviathan,  was  broken  during  robert’s rebellion,  a  valyrian  greatsword  with  a  hilt  comprised  of  sea  green  jewels,  but  was  reforged  by  aethan  upon  taking  his  seat  as  master  of  driftmark.  since  then,  he  has  wielded  it  proudly  and  has  fought  with  it  during  every  battle.

his  father,  daemon,  was  a  cruel  man,  slaughtered  by  aethan  and  his  younger  brother  when  they  grew  tired  of  seeing  their  family  traumatized  by  his  wrath.  besting  the  man  in  a  duel,  aethan  beheaded  him  and  tossed  his  body  off  the  highest  point  of  driftmark’s  second  castle  known  as  high  tide,  into  the  sea.