#Edward Cobalt

[justmoreocs-writing]

Renée is the middle Cobalt child; she and her older brother Edward ‘Eddie’ were born America to an English mother and American father. They grew up in Beacon Hills where their father, Robert ‘Robbie’ was best friends with Noah Stilinski, and hence why Renée was close to Stiles and Scott during her childhood – they frequently played adventure games in the streets, using dragons and mythology as their villains. Their mother, Penelope ‘Penny’ had moved to America with her best friend Oscar ‘Car’ Cooper, who is the brother-in-law of Claudia Stilinski and uncle to Patrick ‘Pat’ – who is also Stiles’ cousin. She was also close to a girl named Tabitha ‘Tabby’ Matthews, who seemed like the calm and sensible one of their group when she hung around with them.

When Renée was six her family moved back to England, though no one really explained why to her. She spent years trying to figure out how to fit in and slowly lost her accent – much to Stiles and Scott’s amusement on phone calls and Skype calls.

At the age of ten everything changed. Not only was her younger sister Vanessa ‘Van’ born, she came into her magical powers. Penny had always had magic, not that she shared this with her children. Renée accidentally caused water to spurt out the tap while having an argument with Eddie, and that was the end of the secrecy in the family – they were lucky the event happened at home, but her parents had always been prepared for excuses and things if it hadn’t. Since then she has been trying to learn how to control her powers, but it’s easier said than done when she has to stay calm to do it.

A little after she’s turned sixteen, the Cobalts move back to Beacon Hills.

Renée herself loves reading, she loves an adventure and will always look out for a good mystery to sink her teeth into. Her ability to lie is something that has got better over the years with the whole not telling people about her powers, but she’s not great at it for anything else. She really hoped none of her friends would get caught up in the world of the supernatural, but that’s just not her luck.

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday

Tagging @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @icecutioner @socially-awkward-skeleton @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @imogenkol @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @raresvtm @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries @nightwingshero and @noodlecupcakes

Songs for An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts Trilogy, A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and one specifically called "Dinosaur Escape" for the Jurassic World WIPs in The UnTitledverse, though the Jurassic World: Into The Eye Of The Storm WIP fits this one. You can listen to them below the cut:

The Trilogy of An Old Ballad Of Chance And Ember Hearts are a trio of original works about the first pair of human explorers of the Multiverse as they traverse through numerous and wonderful worlds that exist within it. It explores the beauty and darkness of the mesmerizing nature of life. "Dream Your Dream" I believe encapsulates the fantastical and ethereal tone, especially with its balance between the whimsical dream and a dreadful nightmare, which is emphasized through the lullaby-aesthetic of the song, as this trilogy is written as historical accounts of these two explorers' journeys from a time that has long since passed.

"The ticking clock breaks the spell with every beat Illusion or not, you are safe for now So dream, so dream your dream So dream your dream

So dream, dream, dream your dream 'Cause when you're awake your nightmare awaits So dream, dream, dream your dream 'Cause when you're awake the nightmare awaits It's a fantasy, they'll be seeing you soon Nowhere left to go, terrors keep breaking through So dream, dream, dream your dream 'Cause when you're awake The nightmare will become the truth."

Throughout all six of the fics I have for my Fallout series, A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, I think the most grim and game-changing one would have to be the Fallout: New Vegas fic, The House On Top, not that this series isn't already written to be grimmer and darker than the games. Anywho, the song I believe sets the tone going forward during and post-FONV's fic would have to be "Game Of Survival".

"Who's in the shadows? Who's ready to play? Are we the hunters? Or are we the prey?

There's no surrender And there's no escape Are we the hunters? Or are we the prey?

This is a wild game of survival."

Of course "Dinosaur Escape" can just be for all my Jurassic World fics, however I think it's closest to my Jurassic World: Into The Eye Of The Storm WIP as that takes place during Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, especially with references to the Isla Nublar eruption and the Indoraptor himself. This specific fic focuses on Joaquin Cobalt, Edward Carmine and Indo (+ Diego & Phone) as they try to get off the island before they're consumed by molten ash of death. It's also the fic where Maisie gets introduced, and she plays an important part throughout The UnTitledverse entire series. The song's also a kind of Spoiler-ish free recap for Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom if anyone wants to listen.

"On Isla Nublar So many dinosaurs are running wild Too many to count But Claire has got a list of names compiled I feel a rumble on the island and I start to think... We have to save the dinosaurs before they're all extinct

Start with the herbivores!

The Stegosaurus last was seen by the Cretaceous Cruise Triceratops was in the Gentle Giants petting zoo Pachycephalosaurus used to fight in Pachy Arena Ankylosaurus were around the Gyrospheres beside the forest

Oh! I feel a rumble coming from a volcano I see a stormy cloud I see a dark red glow So grab the gyrosphere and step on the gas We've got to go It's gonna blow 'Cause it's an eruption Eruption

Chaos is all around While Claire's embarking with a crew And Owen Grady joined the team to help them look for Blue Isla Nublar's falling and the population's on the brink They've got to save the dinosaurs before they're all extinct

Onto the carnivores!

Carnotaurus has two horns protruding from her head Ferocious Allosaurus broke from holoscape and fled Last remaining Tyrannosaurus Rex escaped her kingdom Baryonyx almost ate the crew inside the lava chamber

Oh! I feel a rumble coming from a volcano I see a stormy cloud I see a dark red glow So grab the gyrosphere and step on the gas We've got to go It's gonna blow 'Cause it's an eruption Eruption

The Indoraptor was created by Dr. Wu A hybrid dinosaur 2,000 pounds designed for war Half Velociraptor, half Indominus Rex And it's up to Blue to defeat him now

I feel a rumble, I feel a rumble I feel a rumble coming from a volcano I feel a rumble, I hear the sound We've got to go before Jurassic World comes falling down Yeah!

Eruption!"

[the-untitledverse-blog]

The UnTitledverse DND Alignment

Eleanor (The Perfect Storm, The Omniscient Rule & The Ender sagas and The Time Guard volumes) - A Knightess of the Light, Eleanor is one of the most moral characters in The UnTitledverse, repenting by serving good.

Leviticus (The Omniscient Rule & The Ender sagas, Jagged Instincts novelisation & The Time Guard volumes) - A lawyer of the Time Court, had a disdain towards Timekeeper but ultimately upholds honor and goodwill above all else.

Joaquin Cobalt (The Perfect Storm, The Omniscient Rule & The Ender sagas) - A young adolescent who got lost in the Multiverse before rising up to become a leading and respected member of the Omniscient Rule.

Leslie Who (The Perfect Storm & The Omniscient Rule sagas) - A doctor who lost his son to an old business partner, Leslie is on a mission of revenge against Edward Carmine and his crimes. However, he cannot stop himself from doing good in spite of the nature of his mission.

Benny the Révolutionnaire (The UnTitled Ventures & The Ender sagas) - The seventh-borne Eldritch, was made to assist Zachariah at Fate's Table, however was exiled to the Void. Not that it stopped him.

Calvin Dearing (The Perfect Storm saga) - A Dream Spirit and a former Cartoonist murdered by his boss, Terrence Carmine, Calvin was stuck in a repetitive cycle of purgatory rigged by Jester, but managed to get out. He became good friends with Joaquin Cobalt and Mario Emmet, when they were both lost in the Multiverse, he went out of his way to find them.

Allyson "Alice" Darling (The Omniscient Rule & The Ender saga) - Alice is the eldest Darling child, and was recommended by Malcrum during his leave from the Omniscient Rule to replace him.

Joaquin Lockwood (The UnTitled Ventures saga) - The previous incarnation of Joaquin Cobalt, Joaquin Lockwood was a former agent of the BSAA before becoming the mayor of the Village and then aiding Benny in his revolt against Zachariah.

Timekeeper (The Perfect Storm & The Omniscient Rule sagas) - A Time Lord droid created to overlook Time and utilize the Time Watch. Wishes to change the corruption he's noticed bleed inside the Time Bureau Authority.

Mario Emmet (The Perfect Storm & The Omniscient Rule sags and Mario: Mother's Boy) - A shapeshifting soul-type alien, Mario was taught by his mother Abigail, his first best friend Debra, his love interest Charlie, and his brother-figures Joaquin & Calvin to gain some better morality. Mario also adopted an appreciation for humanity just as his mother did.

H.O.S.T (The Time Guard volumes) - The warden of the Time Prism (a prison sub-dimension in Time), he joined the Time Guard on their adventures. He is unprepared for their unorthodox illegalities.

Elise Lockwood (The Ender saga) - She just wants to find out where her family is man.

Jerome Amber (The UnTitled Stories) - The Lord High Protector of Corona and the half-brother of Empress Cassandra. He feels only loyalty towards Cass... whether she was a knight or a usurper.

Mordecai Callaghan (The Omniscient Rule saga) - Also known as "The Huntsman", Mordecai only commits amoral acts (like bounty hunting) and immoral acts (like child trafficking) to survive and to earn his freedom from Madame Callaghan and C.Y.P.R.U.S.

Maddilyn Darling (The Perfect Storm and The Omniscient Rule sagas) - An outlaw apart of the Van Der Linde Gang, Maddilyn follows Dutch closely. However this does change later in 1899.

The Chairman (The Perfect Storm saga) - Dude eats people that go against existence, even if they're innocent.

Jeremiah (The Omniscient Rule saga and The Time Guard series) - A Time Agent who honestly doesn't give a fuck about the law, and just most fucks around and finds out. Jeremiah is apart of Khronos' corruption though.

Malcolm Darling (The Omniscient Rule saga) - A Darling twin taken into C.Y.P.R.U.S before failing a mission that resulted in him being bisected and set alight, he gets infected by the Cordyceps and manages to control it enough to remain conscious, setting out to eliminate his rival; Ellie Williams.

Jester (The Perfect Storm saga) - This guy is a scamming dealmaker who will screw over whoever is not the winning side.

K.I.L.L.J.O.Y (The Perfect Storm saga) - A virus/security drone of Edward Carmine's that becomes his most loyal servant.

Zachariah The Orchestrator (The UnTitled Ventures and The Ender saga) - The second-borne Eldritch and the Hand at Fate's Table, Zachariah has a disdainful view on humanity and wishes to control and punish them for their existence.

Edward Carmine (The Perfect Storm saga) - A petty industrialist and robotics expert, he craves power over everyone and believes himself to be the superior human. Edward also cannot let go of a grudge, going to insane lengths to settle the score (even if it puts his own life in danger).

Quintin the Unknown Evil (The Perfect Storm saga) - The Unknown Evil is the fifth-borne Eldritch that represents the concept of Evil and is the leader of the Wicked.

Madame Callaghan (The Omniscient Rule and The UnTitled Ventures sagas) - Madame Callaghan is the leader of C.Y.P.R.U.S who abuses her power and position, a result of her sanity degenerating on a horrific level.

Ian Graveheart (The Omniscient Rule saga) - The leader of the current chapter of the Occult, he is fully indoctrinated by the Occult's doctrine.

[fishsfailureson]

Part 4/5 of those little artfight headshot thingies.

(Left to right, top to bottom: Cessna, Cobalt, Nymph, Edward.)

I did record a speedpaint but tumblr isn't letting me upload it :/

[nevver]

The Tube Train, Cyril E. Power

[separatist-apologist]

What Died Didn't Stay Dead

Summary: Gwyneth Berdara has been promised to a brutal prince who imagines himself a god. Setting sail across pirate infested waters, she and Nesta Archeron hatch a plan to escape her arranged marriage before they arrive.

A gift for @alohaangels, whose kind words softened some of my grief.

Read on AO3

TW for depictions of sexual assault- reminiscing on the event, but it is graphic so please take care of yourself.

--

It was a mistake.

Surely some sort of joke. 

Gwyn’s eyes scanned the piece of paper before her, looking for some tell-tale clue that would mark the missive as some kind of cruel joke. Some nobleman’s idea of amusing himself with a ruined man’s daughter. 

Lady Berdara,

I have made my intentions plain to your guardian, and with her blessing, I intend to make them plain to you as well. I have been unable to stop thinking of you since the ball, hosted now several months previously. Your beauty follows me, an ever present guest I would not be rid of, distracting as your visage is. 

Allow me to speak freely—I would like to be wed with haste if possible. I have enclosed two tickets to Alsfeld for you and a lady of your choosing. Send word, make the passage, and I will meet you at the Port of Alsfeld.

Say yes. I will accept no other answer.

Yours, faithfully,

Prince Edward II

Gwyn looked up at Merrill with disbelief, immediately frustrated to find her guardian looking back with a look of supreme smugness. 

“I told you,” she said, rising from her chair to walk toward the window. Gwyn had been living under care since her family had been slaughtered, casualties of the ongoing and bloody war being fought by Edward the Senior. She’d been minor nobility, then, though part of the landed gentry all the same.

“This is a joke,” Gwyn replied, pushing away the rising tide of memories. She wished she had perished, then, and often cursed the unknown, faceless man who had spared her a bloody death right at the last second. 

“It’s not,” Merrill replied, smoothing out the folds of her heavy cobalt gown. “He was taken with you at the ball, and he’s taken with you now.”

“I have no dowry,” Gwyn reminded Merrill, who must have already thought of that. “I work for my keep.”

“Money was set aside for you. I have been safe guarding it,” Merrill told her. Gwyn didn’t know what to say to that—she’d been told for years that her father had squandered everything, that the only way to continue living under Merrill’s grace was to work. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You have an education, don’t you? Room? Board? Fine clothes and regular meals?”

“I…am grateful,” Gwyn forced herself to say, hardly grateful at all. She was angry—always so, so angry. The feeling was nothing new, just as swallowing it wasn’t, either. She knew all the right words, steps to a dance she’d long memorized. “I am so grateful for you.”

Gwyn wasn’t, though. Merrill had never been kind—a poor substitute for her already flighty mother. At least then she’d had Catrin.

Now she had no one and nothing but memories tainted in blood, smoke, and so much fear. And, apparently, a marriage she could not wiggle free from. Gwyn wracked her mind for anything that might save her—Edward was a prince twice her age who’d ordered her into several dances. His breath had smelled rank, his fingers tight and clammy, and he’d leaned in too close for her liking as he droned on and on about his many war victories.

Did he even know his family’s war was the reason she had to rely on the charity of others?

Gwyn doubted he cared. 

“What about his last wife?”

“The Catholic?” Merrill scoffed. It was a rumor, of course—meant to discredit a woman so he could have a divorce without upsetting the general populace that loved her so. “Locked in a convent, last I heard. She gave only daughters and  he needs sons.”

“I’m supposed to do that?” Gwyn gaped, blood turning to ice. She had to swallow against the torrent of memories rising through her, threatening to spill over the ornate cream rug in the form of her breakfast. She’d promised she wouldn’t—that a man would never again touch her like that, certainly not if she invited him to, and even that was questionable.

It seemed she had no choice. 

“You’ll be his wife,” Merrill said dismissively, clearly tired of the conversation. It was the longest they’d had in waking memory, which meant at any moment Merrill was going to give Gwyn a verbal order to do as she was told, and a silent order to shut her mouth and be grateful.

Gwyn had no gratitude left in her. Certainly not for a man who intended to use her and then discard her if he tired of her. 

“He has a wife—”

“He doesn’t,” Merrill snapped, tossing a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder. Was she bitter it wasn’t her? Gwyn would trade her. “Nesta Archeron has agreed to accompany you to Alsfeld and I expect you to go upstairs, pack appropriately, and smile at your good fortune. Not many men would consider marrying you given your past.”

“My past.” Gwyn dropped all pretense, her words hollow, voice flat. 

“Yes, Gwyneth, your past. You should be overjoyed that a man wants you at all, let alone one so esteemed as the prince.”

“You told him?” Gwyn felt betrayal clawing at her neck. “That wasn’t yours to share!”

“The dowry he demanded was impossible to meet,” Merrill sniffed, eyes icy and unforgiving. “He was entitled to less knowing you were ruined.”

Ruined.

Gwyn rose from the chair she’d been sitting in, skirts ruffling loudly in her ringing ears. How Gwyn hated when Merrill said that to her—as if she were little more than a lamp that had broken and not a whole person that had been stolen from.

She couldn’t speak—she knew she’d cry, her anger making a mockery of her. Inclining her head, Gwyn merely made her way through the parlor, past the servants she’d once been close with. They wouldn’t meet her gaze, though she swore their mouths twisted with pity. She was the last to know, as usual, and it showed. 

Making her way to her small bedroom, Gwyn flung herself onto the padded window seat to peer out at the sea. How long before she was on one of the ships in the harbor with only the wretched Nesta Archeron for company? She’d only met the woman once and Nesta had been so wildly unpleasant that Gwyn had immediately dismissed her without another word.

Now they’d be trapped aboard a ship together. Gwyn sighed, turning toward her dresser. She had a large carpet bag and a trunk—she’d put personal things in the bag and the rest in the trunk, assuming someone was going to rifle through the items in the trunk. Better to not give anything away.

Truthfully, Gwyn had very little. Merrill had never deigned to give her anything of value, always with the admonishment that she ought to be grateful. Gwyn’s gratitude died with Catrin, leaving behind only her rage. How a prince had found her fascinating enough to marry was beyond Gwyn—the night they’d danced, she’d been wearing one of Merrill’s gowns, promptly returned while it was still warm. 

What would he do when he realized she was practically a servant? Maybe it didn’t matter—perhaps he’d outfit her in finery and remind the populace that, technically, her father had died a decorated war hero. Nevermind he’d been cowering in his final moments, on his knees begging not for the lives of the daughters being dragged away by laughing soldiers, but his own.

Gwyn’s anger grew hotter. She threw her items in the trunk, not caring if they were wrinkled. She let it consume her, balling up gown after gown so she could throw them with force into the trunk until she felt a little calmer. Less fury. She reminded herself to breathe, the same exercises she’d once done with Catrin.

It had been Catrin who’d once been filled with anger and Gwyn who had peace. She’d find her sister, raging about some injustice, and remind her to breathe until they were both smiling again. Catrin’s rage had sent her running from the house to try and save the children next door—and she’d been the first of the two of them to die. Wherever she’d hidden them, however they’d escaped…Catrin refused to say.

Gwyn, trembling and scared, a mere three minutes younger though sometimes it felt like three years, had obeyed when Catrin ordered, don’t say a word!

“We can break you,” the soldier had laughed, reaching for his belt. Catrin had turned her head, arms held over her head by another soldier. She’d screamed and fought, writhing like a wild, desperate animal while Gwyn silently sobbed, watching—knowing she would be next.

Tell us, the soldier had ordered, turning to Gwyn.

Don’t, Catrin had ordered again, fiercer than before. They’d placed a blade to Catrin’s neck and demanded again. Gwyn had looked at her sister, but Catrin only widened her eyes.

“Be brave,” Catrin had whispered.

The last words ever spoken between them. They’d laughed as they cut her throat, and laughed louder as Gwyn screamed, dragged to the same bed her sister bled out on. Gwyn hadn’t been brave at all—she’d begged them to kill her, too.

And they would have, had that man not come kicking in with that lethal looking sword. Walking to her dresser, she found the cloak he’d draped over her folded up at the bottom. Throwing it away would have been the better thing to do, but in the aftermath of what had happened, she’d simply tossed it in the back of her wardrobe. Afterwards, she’d had it washed, unable to stand the smell of whatever cologne that man wore mingled with blood and sweat. She could have thrown it away then, too.

She picked it up, admiring the well-made fabric and the heavy, silver and cobalt clasp that would have kept it pinned around her neck. Gwyn hadn’t dared to wear it, but it felt…wrong…to be rid of it, now. It was a relic of the worst moment of her life. She hated that stranger, his face concealed by a mask, though what little she might have seen had been blurred by blood and tears. He’d carried her out after brutally, and mercilessly, slaughtering every man who’d come into her house. 

He’d tried to take her somewhere, but she’d started screaming again and so he’d left her huddled in a heap beneath a tree with a silver dagger laid at her bare feet. He hadn’t said a word, merely vanished back into the ether. Perhaps he’d been a long forgotten god come to seek vengeance. Or perhaps he’d simply been a mercenary unable to witness his brethern pillaging and raping. 

She’d never know. 

Still, sometimes she caught herself thinking about him, wondering where he was and why he’d intervened in the first place. Gwyn had the dagger, though she didn’t know how to use it, and tucked that into her bag along with a necklace that had belonged to Catrin she didn’t dare wear. She hadn’t been brave.

She didn’t deserve to.

Gwyn skipped dinner that night, which caused Merrill to rant through the halls about how spoiled and ungrateful she was. Gwyn blocked it out with a book, curled back in the window seat as she waited for the inevitable. She couldn’t sleep, chasing the sunrise with drooping eyelids. Merrill wasn’t far behind, bursting in with more energy than Gwyn was certain she’d ever had in her life. 

Gwyn had never liked the small city she’d been isolated in. It was just big enough to give the illusion of privacy but small enough that everyone knew everything. Busybodies to the very last, which meant that as Gwyn was paraded through the busy early morning, all eyes fell on her, even if just for a moment. They’d flit in her direction before fans extended and women began chattering behind them, their peals of laughter echoing over the sounds of horse drawn carriages and booming voices announcing the prices of fish and produce. 

Gwyn wanted to be the kind of person who’d stare back, eyes shooting daggers as she did. She wasn’t, though, even as her anger and humiliation seemed to reach a writhing fever pitch in her chest. She imagined all the things she’d say, should she have the opportunity—the way she’d cut them into ribbons until they felt as small as she did—but she kept her eyes trained on the muddy cobblestone streets before her. Causing a scene would only result in more problems for Gwyn, who always seemed to be blamed, regardless if something was actually her fault. Merrill simply did not like her, and resented being vaguely related to her father and therefore, responsible for her care. 

Gwyn might have liked the docks and the quieter bustle filled with mostly men who didn’t seem to care a single jot about her, were it not for the icy stare of Nesta Archeron. She was alone, standing on the curb with her arms crossed over her chest. 

Great.

Gwyn did look at Nesta, hoping her expression conveyed a do-not-try-it-with-me,but who knew how Nesta took it. Nesta was a Duke's daughter and came from wealth so obscene, Gwyn didn’t dare think about it. What horrible lord was waiting for her in Alsfeld—and who was worse, Gwyn mused privately.

It was fun to watch Merrill dip into a respectful bow while Nesta stared down her nose, unimpressed and maybe even bored by the whole display. “Lady Archeron,” Merrill demurred, looking as if she’d prefer to be anywhere else. “You’re looking well.”

“You don’t,” Nesta replied in that brutal way of hers. Gwyn had to bite back a laugh, reminding herself that once Merrill left, Nesta would turn that mannerless behavior on her. 

“Well,” Merrill said as the salty air tangled a strand of her hair. “Take care of yourself, Gwyneth. If you have need of me, please write.” Gwyn nodded, certain Merrill would never respond to any letter. This wasn’t goodbye—it was a washing of the hands. Merrill had done her duty and now she was free of it. 

“Remember duty,” Merrill added, perhaps guessing the slant of Gwyn’s angry thoughts. Nesta arched a brow but said nothing, lip curling over perfectly straight teeth as she watched Merrill flounce off.

“Her hat was ugly,” Nesta declared the moment Merrill was out of earshot. The own hat, perched neatly atop Nesta coiffed golden brown hair, was very fashionable with its light pink feather and the way it tilted ever so delicately. It paired well with the deep plum of her gown that seemed out of place right before the docks. Gwyn certainly felt underdressed in green, her gown from two seasons earlier and just a tad too big. She felt inadequate in new and frustrating ways.

“So is yours,” Gwyn snapped, stepping around Nesta as two burly armed, barrel chested sailors took her trunk toward a wooden ramp that led to the ship she supposed they would sail on.

Nesta blinked. “I told Elain it was ridiculous,” she grumbled, though she didn’t remove it. Nesta merely marched in step with Gwyn, following the men now charged with their care. Gwyn had expected a sharp tongued insult, not agreement.

“Why did you let her talk you into it?”

Nesta shrugged delicate shoulders, spine impossibly straight as she walked. She looked like the one who ought to be marrying a prince—not Gwyn. Gwyn looked like her maid at best, which annoyed her further. There was something she was missing to this whole arrangement, something that would come back to harm her before she pieced it all together. 

“She can be very bossy when she sets her mind to something,” Nesta said, as if Gwyn knew anything about the Archeron sisters. They were sheltered and spoiled, appearing in the city only when something grand was happening. They otherwise kept to their estate, though there were rumors about how wild the youngest of the three were.

She sounded like more interesting company than the scowling Nesta. One thing, Gwyn supposed, was how unafraid Nesta was to give orders.

“Take us to our cabin,” Nesta demanded the moment their feet were on the softly swaying deck. Two sailors exchanged a glance but otherwise said nothing at all—they merely gestured for the pair to follow them.

“We’re not to be disturbed,” Nesta began, her words seemingly well-practiced. “You may bring our meals to us directly, but otherwise no man is to enter our chamber.”

“Who would stop us?” one of the sailors asked, clearly bitter about being bossed around by a woman.

Gwyn’s own temper got the better of her. “I will.”

Whatever they saw on her face kept them from saying much more. Gwyn waited until they were taken into a large stateroom they were clearly meant to share. Nesta turned, and the sailor, guessing her irritation, threw up his palms in defense. “You can share, or you can sleep in the bunks with everyone else. Your choice, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed before slamming the door in his face. “Must you be so…” Gwyn trailed off, unsure what she even meant to say. Nesta understood, though.

“Because otherwise they think they can take liberties. That we’re helpless and soft and sweet—that we won’t say anything if they touch us. Now they know we’ll scream, and when we arrive at port, we’ll tell someone. They’ll think twice.”

“And with Merrill?” Gwyn demanded, arms crossed over her chest.

“Her presence offends me,” Nesta said with a shrug, as if it were a given. Gwyn couldn’t help but laugh, one hand on her stomach to keep herself from doubling over.

“Mine, too.”

“She thinks herself a great humanitarian, but she’s not. She made a lot of money taking you in, for all the good it did. Look at your dress,” Nesta said, reaching for Gwyn’s sleeve. Gwyn slapped her hand away, embarrassed and self-conscious.

“What are you talking about?”

Nesta stared for a moment, hand cradled to her chest. Those icy blue eyes seemed to be a little sad for only a moment before the emotion vanished, replaced with her usual steely gaze. “Lord Rhysand paid her a hefty stipend for your education. His father and your father were friends, I suppose.”

“No one…no one told me that,” Gwyn managed as anger and betrayal clawed up her throat. “I was working.”

So a Duke paid for Gwyn’s education, and her father had left an inheritance, all pocketed by Merrill. Gwyn turned for the door, ready to march off the ship and throttle Merrill but Nesta grabbed her wrist.

“There is no point. She’s not capable of shame.”

“So she gets away with it?” Gwyn demanded with outrage. “Does no one face consequences except me?”

“She doesn’t have to get away with it,” Nesta said slyly. “I overheard father talking, and he seems to think your marriage will elevate Merrill in a way few ladies ever achieve.”

“Of course it does,” Gwyn grumbled, sitting despondently on the floral patterned bed. “She probably orchestrated it herself.”

“I’m sure. That doesn’t mean you have to marry him,” Nesta continued, holding Gwyn’s stare. 

“He’s a prince—”

“So?” Nesta demanded. “When we arrive, simply say no and stay with me and my aunt. With the new laws that require a ladies consent, you can simply decline.”

“He’s not just some spoiled lordling,” Gwyn whispered, though the idea was spreading through her like wildfire. 

“He’s only a man,” Nesta replied, sitting beside her. “He’s not a god.”

But Gwyn knew what men could do when they didn’t get what they wanted—when they felt thwarted, especially by a lesser woman. It would become a matter of principle to punish her. To control her. He had a navy at his disposal, an army willing to kill on command, and more gold than anyone in the realm. If he wanted to find her, he would. 

And when he did, he’d punish her for daring to defy him.

Still.

The idea had roots.

—-

Azriel heard the sound of boots echoing off swaying wood before he saw Cassian in the doorway. His friend flashed a grin, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ship sailed this afternoon.”

Azriel shifted in his chair, boots reclined on his desk while he toyed with his favorite dagger absently. Turning his gaze from Cassian, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Armed?”

“Barely,” Cassian replied, his amusement plain. “It’s a merchant ship.”

“Whose?” Azriel didn’t want to make too many enemies of the merchant class, some of whom paid money for safe passage and protection from other privateers. 

“Archeron,” Cassian said. Azriel frowned, though it changed nothing. Rhys wasn’t one of them—not really. He could make his demands, could provide them with funding, could play pirate lord when it suited him, but he wasn’t out there day to day.

He didn’t know how hard Azriel had worked to organize this ambush. How he’d intercepted that letter. The spying he’d done, the dominoes set into motion. It was now or it was never. The walls of the palace were impenetrable, even to him. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Azriel decided. It didn’t. He’d rather beg forgiveness than ask permission—Rhys would do the same, were he in Azriel’s position. “Sink the ship.”

“Aye, Captain,” Cassian said, his grin returning.

Azriel’s gaze turned toward the window overlooking the sea. With a soft exhale, he smiled, too. 

Soon.

[pupsmailbox]

SCIENCE ID PACK

NAMES ︰ acid.　ada.　alkali.　amadeo.　archaea.　argon.　atlas.　atom.　atomielle.　atomiene.　beryl.　beryllium.　billy.　bon.　boron.　cadmium.　caesium.　cal.　carson.　catalyst.　cecile.　cell.　celle.　celline.　charles.　chem.　chemesse.　chemise.　chemisette.　chemist.　chemistrine.　chrome.　claude.　clumselle.　cobalt.　comet.　copper.　cosmic.　curt.　cypher.　darwin.　data.　decora.　dex.　dexter.　doc.　doppler.　edison.　edward.　egbert.　elara.　electra.　element.　ellie.　enoxaparin.　entropy.　ester.　ether.　euclid.　evo.　evoliene.　evoliette.　evolune.　experi.　experielle.　experiette.　experimae.　foggy.　galileo.　gamma.　gibson.　gizmo.　gorgon.　graham.　graviette.　gravitae.　gravitine.　halogen.　hatchet.　hazard.　helix.　henry.　herbert.　hypatia.　ion.　irvin.　jekyll.　julius.　jupiter.　kelvin.　lab.　lavoisier.　lobotelle.　logy.　lumen.　lymphoid.　magnesium.　magnus.　mandi.　mandible.　marina.　marrow.　matter.　medusa.　mercury.　millie.　molly.　monoxide.　moon.　neon.　neuralgia.　newton.　nightingale．abacus.　opaque.　organelle.　osmos.　otto.　ox.　patchy.　pathogenica.　pearl.　phosphorous.　plasma.　plasticulla.　positron.　posy.　psych.　psyche.　psychielle.　psychiette.　quark.　radia.　radiatien.　radiette.　raymond.　rocket.　sagan.　saturn.　sci.　science.　sciencia.　scieniette.　scientist.　selenium.　silicona.　solar.　spectra.　spore.　staurozoa.　tech.　tesla.　theorie.　thomas.　toxin.　trojan.　troubleshoot.　valence.　venus.　victor.　violet.　volt.　xen.　zeke.　zinc.

PRONOUNS︰ abyss/abyss.　acid/acid.　actin/actinide.　ae/atom.　atom/atom.　atomic/atomical.　base/base.　bea/beaker.　beaker/beaker.　beam/beam.　bi/bio.　bio/bio.　bio/biochem.　bio/biology.　biology/biology.　bone/bone.　bub/bubble.　bubs/bubble.　catalyst/catalyst.　ce/cell.　cell/cell.　che/chemistry.　chem/chem.　chem/chemical.　chem/chemistry.　chemical/chemical.　chromosome/chromosome.　da/data.　danger/danger.　data/data.　decay/decay.　dna/dna.　e/evo.　ele/element.　elec/electric.　elec/electron.　electro/electro.　electron/electron.　entropy/entropy.　enzyme.　evo/evolve.　evolution/evolution.　evolve/evolve.　ex/expert.　exa/examine.　exp/experiment.　expe/experiment.　experi/experi.　explode/explode.　fe/iron.　fizz/fizz.　flask/flask.　geni/genius.　glass/glass.　goggle/goggle.　gra/gravity.　grav/gravity.　halo/halogens.　haz/hazard.　hyp/sin.　hypo/hypothesis.　ion/ion.　ion/ionization.　iso/isotopic.　isotope/isotope.　kinetic/kinetic.　know/knowledge.　la/lab.　lab/lab.　mad/mad.　magnet/magnet.　mal/mal.　mars/mar.　mask/mask.　merc/mercurys.　met/metal.　metal/metaloide.　method/method.　mi/microbe.　min/mind.　mol/molecule.　mutant/mutant.　mutate/mutate.　needle/needle.　neu/neucleus.　neu/neutron.　neuron/neuron.　neutron/neutron.　nu/nuclear.　nucle/nucleus.　nuclear/nuclear.　nucleus/nuclei.　orbit/orbit.　organism/organism.　pa/paradox.　para/paradox.　patch/patch.　photon/photon.　planet/planet.　plant/plant.　plat/platinum.　poi/poison.　pro/proton.　pro/protron.　psy/psycho.　rad/radiation.　radio/radiograph.　rae/radiation.　ribo/ribosome.　rna/dna.　sci/sci.　sci/science.　scien/scien.　script/script.　sick/sickness.　spark/spark.　spill/spill.　star/star.　study/study.　subject/subject.　tech/technician.　test/test.　theo/theory.　theory/theory.　tissue/tissue.　tox/toxic.　tri/trial.　value/value.　vi/viru.　vial/vial.　volt/volt.　wave/wave.　x-ray/x-ray.　xyr/xyr.　zip/zap.　⚗️/⚗️.　🔬/🔬.　🥼/🥼.　🧪/🧪.　🧫/🧫.　🧬/🧬.　🧮/🧮.

[rjzimmerman]

Scientists Made a List of Lost Birds and Now They Want Us to Find Them. (New York Times)

Clockwise from top left: Santa Marta sabrewing; Golden-fronted bowerbird; Reichenow’s firefinch; Hook-billed kite; Edwards’s pheasant; Bronze parotia.Credit...Carole Turek; Tim Laman; Simon Colenutt; Karine Aigner; Ernie James; Tim Laman/Nature Picture Library, via Minden Pictures

Excerpt from this New York Times story:

In 2022, an ornithologist high in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta mountains of northern Colombia spotted the shimmering emerald green and cobalt blue feathers of the Santa Marta sabrewing. A large hummingbird, it had only been documented twice since 1879. As the bird sat on a branch the ornithologist, Yurgen Vega, captured images.

Once lost to science, it now was found.

The bird was on the American Bird Conservancy’s 10 most wanted list, which sits atop a longer register of “lost birds,” which are formally defined as not having been documented by photographic, audio or genetic evidence in at least a decade.

A major goal of the list is to persuade bird watchers and others to look for these birds as they go out into the field, and to bring back evidence the birds have not gone extinct.

People have searched for lost birds for decades. But the process was formalized in 2020 by the conservancy, in partnership with two other groups, Re:wild and BirdLife International, as the Search for Lost Birds project.

Researchers from the groups published a paper in June with a definitive list of birds that need finding. They scoured tens of millions of photos, videos and audio recordings in birding databases such as iNaturalist and xeno-canto. The study concluded that there are 144 species of bird lost to the scientific world but that may still exist.

[frangipanilove]

Fighting Fire With Fire Part 2;

"The Duality Of Fire"

(read part one and part three here)

During the early stages of the outbreak, the military used napalm in an attempt to control the spread of the virus. Through flashbacks and through FTWD, we saw how Operation Cobalt completely failed to contain the virus, while simultanously contributing to the total breakdown of societal structures. Metropolitan areas on the North American continent were indiscriminately bombed, making no differentiation between the living residing there, and the undead. We also saw, for instance in Shane's flashback to when Rick was in the hospital, how federal forces went in and killed any remaining survivers.

This is the duality of fire. It can be used for total obliteration, but it can also facilitate new life, as we saw in TOWL 1x1 Days, when Rick told the story of how his father burned down the farm, and how it flourished the next year.

During Rick's echelon briefing, we see the duality of the "fire" symbolism illustrated. Both Rick and Major General Beale talk about how you sometimes "have to burn things down in order to bring things back":

Both recognize the tremendous power of the fire symbolism, but they use the metaphor differently. Where Rick is ultimately interested in a good outcome as in facilitating new life, thriving crops and a sustainable future, Beale is literally talking about burning down cities, along with the people living in them.

In flashbacks seen during Major General Beale's Echelon briefing, we witness how the military used napalm on Atlanta and LA.

Napalm is, simply put, a fire bomb made from petrochemocals.

Let's explore the "fire = fuel" angle for a minute.

The opening minutes of 1x1 was our first introduction to the visuals and the symbolism of the show. We see Rick arrive at a gas station in search of fuel.

He only finds death and destruction, meaning that since the very first seconds of the show, the literal opening scene, we see gas, gas stations and fossil fuel surrounded by death symbolism. And, when we later learn that the military bombed the cities and killed countless civilians using napalm, we realise they used a firebomb made from petrochemicals.

The symbolism around gas stations as temples of doom continues, such as in 4x4 Indifference:

This sign quite literally labels the gas station as "hell". The people residing there had committed suicide. Keep this in mind, I'll return to it shortly!

The term "fighting fire with fire" was originally used to describe a technique of forest management, specifically in regards to how to manage wildfires, in which controlled fires were ignited in the path of a wildfire as a preventative measure:

"Fighting fire with fire" as an expression has also often been used to describe vaccines, due to the way it was discovered that exposure to pathogens in some cases could trigger the immune system to produce antibodies against said pathogens, thus resulting in immunity:

When first we met the character Dr. Edwin Jenner at the CDC in TWD 1x5 Wildfire, his name was a reference to Dr. Edward Jenner, an English physician widely known as the “father of immunology”, due to his role in developing the world's first vaccine, against smallpox, in 1798.

It is not a strecth to say that this foreshadows a potential vaccine in TWDU. The virus is called wildfire. Vaccines are often said to be "fighting fire with fire". We learned about the wildfire virus from a character named after the guy who developed the world's first vaccine.

In TOWL 1x2 Gone, we see Michonne involved in a situation that sheds light on how the "fighting fire with fire" symbolism is utilized by TPTB. We see her trying to get through an enormous walker horde, it's a virtual ocean of death:

She tries to distract the walkers by shooting a small missile into the horde, which then explodes. Fighting fire with fire.

Eventually, Nat shows up and helps by adding more explosive fireballs, and the "ocean of death" parts to reveal a way forward.

Fighting fire with fire:

This also provides an interesting example illustrating how fire bombs can be used responsibly, in contrast to the way napalm was used by the military, who indiscriminately bombed cities, killing innocent civilians in metropolitan areas by incinerating them.

It shows that when the people, who have harnessed the tremendous power of fire, have the right intentions, it can be used for good. It shows the duality of fire, and it illustrates the duality of pharmakon, a poison and a cure.

Fighting fire with fire.

This guy stands out from the crowd, and I believe he tells us something about what the wildfire virus in TWDU in reality is a metaphor for:

He's a callback to Rick, back in TWD 1x1 Days Gone Bye:

He beautifully illustrates the ominous nature of the fire symbolism, here represented by fossil fuels, or simply gasoline. We saw it herald death and dystopian hellscape at the gas station in 1x1, we saw it at the gas station in 4x4 Indifference, which was literally named "Hell", we saw it when napalm made from petrochemicals was used indiscriminately to destroy metropolitan areas on the North American continent and massacre anyone in proximity, infected or not.

And we see it again here.

The gas man is Mr. Wildfire Virus incarnate, a posterboy for death and necrotic life, a metaphor for "the old ways". He represents the disease, the plague, the extinction event...

He represents "the end" of humanity!

I don't think it's a stretch to say that the wildfire virus and the walkers in TWDU are metaphors for carbon emissions, the fossil fuel industry and the rapidly escalating threath of climate change to humanity. That's always been my interpretation, and that's solidified after seeing the gas man.

An interesting detail is how the gas man is shown here with gold teeth, as though he's illustrating the incredible wealth accumulated by the fossil fuel industry at the expense of the equilibrium of the ecology of the planet.

Seeing a gas man as the front figure and team captain of an enormous horde of the undead, an insurmountable obstacle, an ocean of death... it's not subtle.

A gas station innundated in death symbolism was the very first thing we, the audience, saw of TWDU, it was literally in the opening scene of 1x1.

And the gas man were among the last things we saw in what's so far one of the last episodes of the last spin off. But a few episodes later, we did see a glimmer of hope, and a potential way out of the mess...

The gas man functions as the face of the threat to humanity in TWDU, and was, in my opinion, inserted as a counter point to what we saw few episodes later, the ethanol as a representation of a "cure", an "antidote" in the back Richonne's escape car.

An electric/bio-ethanol hybrid car, no less...

Again, not subtle...

Bio-ethanol, a sustainable, renewable source of energy, is portrayed as a foreshadow of a sustainable future, in which humanity recovers and thrives.

A green(e) future?

I wrote about how they in FTWD season 4, and in particular 4x16, explored the "ethanol = cure" theme in a post the other week, read more about it here.

Remember how we in TWD season 9, saw the production of bio-ethanol as an alternative source of fuel. We saw how crucial it was, in that Maggie was even seen trading produce for bio-ethanol.

This is a theme TPTB also explored in TWD World Beyond, where especially Elton was concerned about the sixth extinction event, the Holocene extinction.

The kids in TWDWB called themselves "the Endlings", seeming to have accepted that they were among the last survivers of a humanity that was on a direct path to self destruction. Here's from an article in Comicbook.com:

"'Wind always wins,'" Elton tells Hope, borrowing a phrase from his mother who died at the onset of the apocalypse ten years earlier. "Something my mom said about nature deciding who lives and who dies. Turns out she was right."

He explains humans are "at the conclusion of the Holocene extinction," the sixth extinction event on the planet following the Late Ordovician mass extinction, the Late Devonian extinction, the End-Permian extinction, the Triassic-Jurassic extinction event, and the Cretaceous-Paleogene extinction event.

"We were already killing ourselves directly and indirectly, but nature made a shortcut," Elton tells Hope. "It took the dinosaurs possibly 60,000 years to die after 240 million of living, so following that ratio, given the human race's 600,000 and factoring in other miscellaneous variables, I say we have about 15 years until we're gone."

Elton was referring to the walkers when he talked about the threath to humanity, however, if the walkers are a metaphor for climate change, Elton's predictions of 15 years until we're extinct are sobering...

In TWOL 1x6, Major General Beale estimated non-necrotic, meaning human, life has 14 years left.

In real life, the doomsday clock is currently at 90 seconds to midnight (x)...

...we're nowhere near reaching the 2 degrees Celcius target...

...and 2023 was the hottest year on record.

We're not doing great.

TPTB seem to be well aware, because...

...here we see how an electric/bio-ethanol hybrid car represent the "antidote", the future, the "escape" from the extinction event.

Richonne's yellow stick shift electric/bio-ethanol hybrid car represents a potential way out of the imminent Holocene extinction. It represents an "escape" from the sixth mass extinction event, much in the same way a shift away from carbon emitting fossil fuels, to sustainable, renewable sources of energy represents the "cure" against climate change in real life.

But back to the narrative of the show. The accumulation of walkers represent a real threath to humanity, as Major General Beale correctly stated. What could the expression "fighting fire with fire", or "pharmakon", tell us about a potential "cure"? What could the "antidote" be, in the canon of the show?

During Rick's echelon briefing, Major General Beale raised a few issues that would be of legitimate concern, even if most of the rest he said were the ramblings of an authoritarian genocidal madman. He mentioned hordes of up to a million walkers, and he referenced studies suggesting non-necrotic life, meaning humans, could have as little as 14 years left before the the dead would outcompete the living. Millions of walking corpses, spreading diseases, polluting the soil, contaminating fresh water sources.

Those are legitimate concerns and would have to be dealth with. Fire could play a literal role.

Glenn told us in season one. "We bury the ones we love and burn the rest". From an infection contagion prevention point of view, it makes sense to use fire to destruct the wildfire virus. Fighting fire with fire. However, there must be some way to contain the virus while still preserving one's own hummanity. "We bury the ones we love and burn the rest". Unlike what happened during the mass murders of Operation Cobalt during the initial stages of the outbreak.

Again, fire, when used responsibly, could play a role in neutralizing the treath of the plague. It's pharmakon, a poison and a cure.

Fighting fire with fire.

And using fire as a contagion preventation measure was already built into the infrastructure at the CDC. We first saw it in 1x5 Wildfire, when Dr. Jenner accidently knocked over a vial containing samples from Test Subject 19, his late wife, upon which the lab went into full decontamination mode and erased any remaining trace of the pathogen in a great ball of fire.

Later, when the doomsday clock at the CDC reached zero, we watched the entire CDC explode, effectively destructing everything inside, including test samples containing wildfire as well as any other pathogen they might have kept in there.

We also saw it on Hershel's farm in season 2, when the barn where he had kept the reanimated corpses of his loved ones while awaiting a cure, caught on fire. Although, that was more of a display of the symbolism involved rather than a depiction of how to scientifically contain a virus:

We've also seen it countless other times. Fire symbolism has been prevalent on the show since the very beinning, and there's a reason for that. It's because it represents pharmakon, a poison and a cure!

My hypothesis is that "fire" could play a literal role in the resolution of the zombie apocalypse. I also believe that it's likely the term "fighting fire with fire", or "pharmakon", could be meant to be interpreted figuratively, as in the develepment of some kind of cure/vaccine/treatment/immunity.

And like I explained in this post from a few days ago, connections to Beth is found everywhere in the symbolism surrounding these themes.

I mentioned her association with ethanol (as in moonshine = alcohol). I discussed the precedence set by Alicia from FTWD in regards to the bite/cure theory.

And finally, I've spent years now, talking about the Sirius symbolism that Beth has been absolutely immersed in. The word "Sirius" comes from Greek Seirios, which means "glowing", "scorching", it refers to Sirius the Dog Star, and it's associated with the scorching hot "dog days of summer".

"Sirius" symbolism IS "fire" symbolism, they're literally the same, and it ultimately means "return/resurrection/rebirth/reunion", as a reference to how Sirius the Dog Star periodically disappears from the night sky, only to return one morning, right before dawn.

I've talked about how Beth is deeply connected to the symbolism we see around Rick, I've talked about how they so often completely mirror each other and the resurrection symbolism around Rick is identical to the resurrection symbolism around Beth.

If "fire" is a part of the "cure" on the show, the fire symbolism includes resurrection symbolism, which we've seen countless exemples of around Rick and Beth.

And remember, the future is green(e)!

[wifeofsnowbaird]

You put a spell on me

[A/N: I was too lazy to wait for the end of the poll. also i haven't watched the show and wikipedia is kinda holding me up so don't get mad at me for messing smth up, i'll go on the fan wiki tho, they always have everything.]

[EDIT: guys I forgot about the civil war 💀💀💀 I finally fixed it tho so yay]

Part 1/Part 2

Masterlist

[Billy the Kid (Tom Blyth's version) x desi!oc]

Warning: description of blood, slight violence, flogging, racism, flogging, slaves, smut in maybe part 6?

Summary: Sheila was a slave taken by a British couple at the age of 12 for her singing. She was brought to America even though they had the 13th Amendment where slavery was abolished. She saw a friend of hers, who was brought with her, getting flogged and that was her last straw, proceeding to run away. Until she sees the most notorious outlaw in the South, then she settles to free her friends from the British couple that came to America for money.

It was July.25, 1878, Lincoln County, New Mexico. Sheila woke up to nothing but harsh screams coming from one of her friends as she was beaten and whipped. She felt worried because the girl was new…Unlike Sheila who had been with the owner since she was twelve, merely because his wife liked her singing when they had come to visit British India.

Her friend, Catherine, was a sad sixteen-year-old, mourning the death of her parents. They had threatened the owners of telling law enforcement what was happening but they knew that they wouldn't do anything about it.

The other slaves ran to her screams but were faced with fear and did nothing besides revel in their powerlessness. Sheila sat there, her damp brown skin and greasy raven hair clinging to her shell of a body. She knew how this would end, knew that they would be feeble against the man–Edward J. Mason– but she was ready to clean Catherine’s wounds and reassure her that she would be alright.

“Oh, look at my slave, Sheila, so obedient! You never have to hurt her, Edward!”

The sadistic gray-haired man chuckled, kissing his wife.

“ And aren’t I glad, Penelope! We chose her when she was twelve, it has been seven years since, of course, she’d love us, this is why I love Indians! They always gift us with beauty and trust.”

They both glanced at the gaunt, starved girl before chuckling. The Mistress patted Sheila’s head and reached for a rake beside her, beckoning to the other slaves. 

Penelope Mason was a woman no different from her husband. Many wives were afraid of their spouses but Penelope was a wife who had nothing but pride in her bones. The rake in Penelope’s hand was covered in blood, meant to whip the slaves that threatened their control and most times Sheila could willing block out the screeches and screams, but now she just felt angry, ready to beat the couple with no morals. 

But she was stuck being useless to defend them.

Fear is a burden that was attached to her like a drug, and only withdrawal held her back from screaming her heart out.

Until she found a boy with the brightest blue eyes. 

From what she’d heard, he was an outlaw.

Billy the Kid was infamous because he was the man who killed a sheriff months ago, and chased out of the state. It was a mystery how he gained the courage to return to New Mexico.

“ Who’re you?” The man questioned, his vibrant cobalt eyes gazing at her with hostility.

Sheila didn’t want to think more about the dominant color in his entire posture and frame. His clothes were darker than sin and brighter than the sun, but his eyes were the only thing she could pay attention to, causing her to ignore their proximity.

“ I am a slave, belonging to the Mason family.”

He tilted his head, shocked eyes analyzing their surroundings.

“ I didn’ ask what you were forced to be, I asked who you are.”

“ My name is Sheila, is that what you want?”

“ Huh, I’m Billy, but considerin’ the poster you were starin’ at a min’ ago, you already know that. But...how did you...No, how dare they have slaves!”

The dividers were made by @wandanatromanova

[justmoreocs-writing]

Renée grinned, memories coming back to her of moments that she’d thought were hilarious. To others, they might not have warranted the reaction, but that didn’t matter to her. What mattered was trying to figure out which had made her laugh the hardest.

For starters there was the time she, Scott and Stiles had played knights in the front garden, forgetting that one of them needed to be the dragon to battle, so they ended up trying to fight anyone that passed.

There was also the time she made Eddie laugh so much with her impression of his year eight Maths teacher that he snorted milkshake while they were watching the trailers in a cinema.

Or the time her dad had fallen asleep on his lilo and they had to get the life guard to get him because none of them were strong enough swimmers. The fact her dad had borrowed Van’s bright pink and far too small sunglasses only made the whole thing better.

‘I mean, I guess there was the one time I was on Skype to Stiles and Scott,’ she said, already feeling her laughter bubbling up. It wasn’t necessarily funny, but the whole situation was one that had made her laugh for days afterwards. ‘They’d got drunk after some party – a couple of months before I got back to Beacon Hills – and accidentally drunk dialled me. For twenty minutes they didn’t realise, even though I was talking to them at the back of a shop.

‘Eventually, Stiles noticed and he started talking to the screen like I was trapped in it. Then he accidentally cut it off. I called them back that night, and told them the whole story. They couldn’t remember a thing!’

[simplegenius042]

What do your OCs carry on their person? + "What Kind Of Suffering Is Your OC?" Quiz

Tagged by @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton and @deputy-morgan-malone for the former and tagged by @adelaidedrubman and @g0dspeeed for the latter.

Tagging @shallow-gravy @strangefable @jillvalentinesday @josephslittledeputy @derelictheretic @voidika @onehornedbeast @vampireninjabunnies-blog @minilev @neverthesameneveranother @nightbloodbix @wrathfulrook @direwombat @chazz-anova @cassietrn and @strafethesesinners

(I can't seem to tag @josephseedismyfather's blog, are they alright?)

The quiz can be found here.

Will do the main protagonists of my series (The UnTitledverse, Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and Wings And Horns).

Joaquin Cobalt (during Phase One, at least) -> Joaquin has got a short sword, a pocketknife, a revolver, ammo for the revolver, paperclips and bobby pins (for lockpicking), a notepad he uses to take notes of the universe he's stuck in, any deodorant, shampoo and conditioner he can find, testosterone prescriptions, rations, canteen of water, any spare clothes he can buy (or steal/scavenge... he is likely being hunted by the Chairman at this point in his life after all, and currency doesn't always stay the same in each universe), three polaroid pictures that all include himself with Lisa, Maisie and Mario & Calvin, respectively. He has a scarf, boots, an umbrella and goggles for extra protection from the environment. Also a mechanical contraption that allows him to travel to a different universe (he's trying to get back to his old original one). He also has specialized binoculars that can switch to nightvision when needed.

Sylvester Silva Omar -> On person Silva usually has a handgun, an ornate knife called the "Silver Dragon" (something she took from Paul), regular binoculars, two radios (one to coordinate with the Resistance and listen in on Eden's Gate, the other to call Kamski because her flip phone doesn't have any service, LOL), her now useless Nokia flip phone, her house key to Omar's Residence (where she spends her time alone and unbothered, having meals, showers and rest, as well as hiding from the Christmas snow), Elsa's lodge key, her deputy badge, cuffs (which she forgets she has on until much, much later), her golden locket (inside it is the only remaining picture that Elsa took of Silva with Irene and an infant Persephone), a small backpack (which usually holds extra clothes, a water bottle, medical supplies from Kamski as well as additional weapons and ammo), gas mask for when she eventually decides she's sick of the Bliss' bullshit (after being attacked by an angel or bear that she thought was a civilian for the umpteenth time). She did have prescribed medicine for her PTSD, but that has since run out, and the Hope County Clinic had either been pillaged by Eden's Gate or can't replenish their supplies since the county is on lockdown. She does have Joseph's Word for a while before giving it back to Faith. Eventually Silva also gets glasses between her time in the bunker after the Collapse and during Old Dusk (the New Dawn arc), as well as a crossbow (because I think she deserves one), not to mention the ring.

Haoyu Anabuki - Haoyu is the one with the least amount of shit. A wallet, phone (which has a screenshot of the Literature Club as the opening image which includes Haoyu themself, their sibling Monika, and both their friends Sayori, Yuri and Natsuki), antibiotics and reading glasses is the most you get from them. Anything else is stashed in their little pocket dimension. I'm sure the others here would be looking to kick Haoyu's ass for being the second person with the least amount of stuff to carry.

Archangel Metatron - Because first goes to Metatron, a literal archangel who's clothes are part of his disguise, and only really has a flaming sword to worry about.

BONUS Azriel - Poor girl doesn't have enough pockets to carry every shiny thing she sees. But to recap; in Azriel's years as an Angel of Death, she only carried around a hood, cloak and two sickles. Justified, she's technically dead and an immortal soul doing Death's deeds, so she's kind of omnipresent and omnipotent. But in her mortal years as a child, she tries to pocket and carry way too many things, sometimes her own creations, and has a bayonet pistol as well as several explosives she built or stole herself. As an adult, Azriel has heavier weapons (like a bayonet minigun) and better explosives, plus cogs and other doohickeys that she uses as accessories or utilizes for uses not for their initial purpose (like a hair tie). She also has hair dye just in case her dark hair starts showing again. And plenty of fake badges and ID card.

Now onwards to the suffering of the Antagonists! Since I just did the protagonists I thought it was only fair the antagonists got to shine.

First up!

Edward Carmine (The UnTitledverse, The Perfect Storm saga)

While I do agree that Edward is experiencing a kind of despair, he is too focused on his own superiority-complex to even consider that this isn't healthy. He is too ambitious to worry about trivial things like hope. He is too unsympathetic and without empathy towards his own downfalls to even reflect on his actions. Edward believes the world works a certain way, and he will have it focused on him whether it likes it or not.

Father Adam Omar (Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Silva's Hope fic)

Adam Omar is the result of living up to the horrible expectations of a shitty society based on class (that he proceeds to make worse), groomed by the previous Prophet Omar and the Voice with words of importance and righteousness, as well as several unspecified disorders (plus biological factors) that the Congregation could care less about doing anything about. Though these do not at all justify any of the heinous shit he does to everyone, including his own children. Proceeding, "The Taker" most definitely describes Adam. Though I highly doubt Adam would ever change his mindset, especially when it has proven successful for him thus far.

Sir Enigma Malvolio (Life Despair & Monsters)

I'm unsure about this one. Malvolio really is the person who spreads despair on anyone he meets through his unethical "social experiments". He's a creature from an alternate dimension disguised as a human, I highly doubt he believes in concepts like "hope" and "religion". He is hooked entirely on the unethical side of science. He wants to help humans "evolve" but really he wants to satisfy his own "itch" and twisted curiosity (plus his Darwinist/dog-eat-dog ideology).

Xiang Ba'al (Wings And Horns, Original Work)

Xiang, a demon from the Sloth Ring of Hell, the last creature anyone, not even Metatron, would expect to go on a mission to dismantle the Soulmate System after he sees the consequences of it after finding the damned soul of a ten-year-old girl named Jezebel (that he adopts) wandering in Hell after a horrible confrontation in the mortal realm. Xiang believes he is giving humans an opportunity to remove their soulmarks (or soulbrands, which are arguably worse), which in his POV, is a curse that has plagued the mortal realms for far too long. Problem is (besides the extremism and forcing people to do so against their will) Xiang doesn't have a lot of runes nor the energy to power those runes (due to being a Sloth Demon) in order to successfully eradicate the soulmate system (leaving him to comprise a plan to make as much noise as possible to show the Gods that "hey, your system is broken beyond repair!"). While Jezebel dislikes the extremism, she finds Xiang caring enough for her to dismantle a system that completely fucked her over despite the consequences he could face is very touching. It's the thought that counts, in Jezebel's opinion.

And BONUS...

Urijah Callaghan (The UnTitledverse, The Omniscience Rule and The UnTitled Ventures sagas)

Urijah has an extremely nihilistic outlook in life, not helping that Madame Callaghan (his parental figure/kidnapper) pushes him further into this extreme form of nihilism. He did care at one point. He really did. But now to him, nothing matters. Except for his mission to wipe the multiverse and everyone in it from existence with a bomb he designed. Even his companions from Cognito, Inc. Including his closest companion, Reagan Ridley. He views it as a kind of mercy than living under Zachariah's cruel and callous hand.

[help-an-alter]

on behalf of an fact introject in our sys whos source is very problematic and they want to separate,

they are looking for some names,, i hope thats okay!

they want Glitch themes, flora themes, abstract themes, painting/art themes, animal themes, puppet themes, pink/blue/purple themes,, and they're non binary but they dont mind fem or masc.

thank you!

hi anon ! mod firefly here ! we'd be happy to help ,,, we'll try and stick to neutral names :3 they're separated by theme just to make things a bit easier (mainly for us tbh)

glitch themed ,,,

Zyto, Lyric, Zip, Bender, Pluto

flora themed ,,,

Flor, Fleur, Dahlia, Alyssum, Dianthus, Delphinium, Rye, Rowan, Juniper, Calyx, Cassava, Agave, Aloe, Vera

painting / art themed ,,,

Michaelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, DaVinci, Dali, Salvedor, Edward, Austin, Abbey, Rembrandt, van Gogh, Picasso

animal themed ,,,

Fawn, Fauna, Tiger, Lyon / Lion / Lione / Lyone / Lyonne, Mouse, Cobra, Starling, Lynx, Tawny

puppet themed ,,,

Henson, Shari, Lewis, Oz, Frank, Richard, Hunt, Goelz, Dave, Burr, Tillstrom, Brian, Henson, Eren, Ozker

pink themed ,,,

Magenta, Rose, Fuschia, Orchid, Coral, BubbleGum, Watermelon, Congo, Strawberry

purple themed ,,,

Violet, Amethyst, Indigo, Mauve, Lavender, Lilac, Plum, Mulberry, Byzanthium, Liserian, Phlox, Carmine

blue themed ,,,

Cobalt, Periwinkle, Oxford, CornFlower, Cerulean, Sapphire, Alice, Bleu, Maya, Tiffany, Blizzard

I hope these help them !!! (and i hope it was enough we had a lot of fun finding all the different themes !!!!)

[edutainer2022]

Forgotten, Ch 1

Forgotten, Ch 2

Co-written with @janetm74 (really, my contribution is humblest!)

"Please, take your medicine, Mr. Edwards."

Cobalt eyes shifted to look up at the nurse - hesitancy and a hint of defiance there. He was having vicious nightmares again, but couldn't remember the gist when he woke up. So he refused to take daily medication. Which, in turn, upped the somewhat reined in melancholy all the way back to bottomless depression. He was lonely, confused and now, thanks to the nightmares, also scared of things he couldn't remember. The man was admitted to their hospital by an anonymous Good Samaritan whom nobody could remember, it being a busy shift. Young, tall, extremely fit, dressed simply, but the way that telegraphed wealth, and completely amnesiac. He couldn't produce a name or identify the day of the week.

No ID or cards on his person, but there was a tattered photograph in his shirt pocket, over the heart, of a young woman with a mane of auburn curls and a brilliant dimpled smile. The back of the pic was inscribed "Love, Lucy Edwards". The picture was old enough to rule out a wife, a sister, or a girlfriend, and there was an unmistakable familiar resemblance of the blue eyes and the dimples, so they infirred it was, likely, a mother. Their patient couldn't confirm one way or another. His file then changed the reference from "John Doe" to "John Edwards". The chief of psychiatry suggested the name might trigger a memory or a response. But so far - nothing. Only the nightmares and a sea of sadness in the wakeful hours.

[queenoforeos]

our math teacher has canonically enslaved joseph and sent edward to the cobalt mines

[asher-writes]

9- Write about your ship getting dressed up in fancy outfits together.

Listen, AriEdwardTune, maybe they gotta infiltrate somewhere and gotta go undercover, maybe it's just someone else hosting a party (my brain supplied AnaLucia wedding as an example 👀) but either way

Hot

~ M <3

"It's a party, you have to dress nicely," Neptune had insisted, much to Ari's affront as he looked down at his oil-stained hands and worse-for-wear waistcoat.

"And I don't dress nicely?"

"Well...it's not the style, so much the..." Neptune gestures loosely, before glancing over at Edward, who only slips away from the conversation as though he were never there in the first place.

But an argument was always pointless, because Neptune always won, and he always let her.

Which is how he found himself wearing the deep tones of crimson red amongst his familiar and comfortable black. It was the most he would allow. The waistcoat, embellished in these floral swirls, standing firmly against the charcoal black of his shirt and trousers.

He still misses his monochromatic style; the comfortable grey wasn't a broken feat of his wardrobe - and thus did not need fixing.

The jacket was that same deep red, startling to look at. He felt almost foolish as he slid it on. This was a suit for a younger man, he felt, and someone twice as attractive as himself.

Ari greased his curls back, pinning them neatly to some semblance of control, but allowing some strays to fall forward of his forehead. He considered faking an illness, his red cheeks redder and body tense with unfamiliar anxiety. He was not the social butterfly that his partners were. It's largely why he had the two of them - so they could entertain each other whilst he locked himself in a dark room, neither speaking nor moving.

Neptune's demanding knock tore his gaze away from his petrified expression, just in time for her to step into the room. Suddenly it really didn't matter much. No-one would be looking at him, because she was absolutely beautiful. She was always beautiful, of course, but for a moment his mind turned over and his heart stuttered, and air became a scarcity far removed from his lungs.

She looked like a drawing of the sea he'd seen once - or at least that's his approximation. Her blue curls soft, the cobalt dress flowing the same way air might. She sparkled in the light of the room from the jewellery.

To him, she may as well as been as rare and precious as that untainted water, frozen in time, beautiful enough for an artist to sketch. If he had the hands for it, he might've entertained the thought himself.

"We're waiting for you," she smiled, pretending not to notice his dazed expression, though her chin raised a little higher - and that smirk was undeniable.

Edward was just as much of a sight to behold. He'd spent the better half of the day putting his braids in, claiming both excitement and exhaustion at different phases.

He'd made an effort, in some way, to match Ari's style, but the darkened red was replaced with a shining, brilliant gold. Which much matched Edward's personality, Ari thought to himself, enraptured by the way his lover almost seemed to radiate light.

He'd been reminded of the two of them, sat on the windowsill smoking and drinking, looking up at a shooting star expectantly, discussing the old world tradition of wishes. What he would wish for. But in truth the wish had already been granted and the only star he needed was right there.

A little winded by it all, he leaned his head against the doorway and exhaled. "You both look amazing," he uttered, feeling as though he meant to shrink away from them both.

"As do you," Edward whispered, hand suddenly on Ari's chest, "...I love this colour on you," the words hold an edge he rarely hears in Edward's voice, something that returns the blush to his cheeks in full force.

"You look good enough to eat," Neptune presses a warm, lingering kiss on his hot cheek, her fingers intertwining gently in his own "...but for now, sadly, we do have a party to attend."

"That we do," Ari whispered, more than a little flustered. He clears his throat, "...but I'm glad you like it."

--

Prompt Fill Taglist:

@rickie-the-storyteller @mayarab @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream @kaylinalexanderbooks @sender-paulson