#I pride myself on my ability to navigate conversations! it is a skill I have actively cultivated!

[notbecauseofvictories]

it's a good thing that I've developed a pretty cast-iron sense of self-worth, because otherwise....man, my boss could do a number on me without even really trying.

[jackiequick]

Joshua Nolan - As sweet as honey but forgetful as a wish 🍯

= Note: He is also considered an Disney/OUAT OC

-> Christoper Robin — Joshua C. Nolan

-> How lucky I am to have something, that makes saying goodbye so hard

~~~~

Full name: Joshua Christopher Nolan-Morozov

Character titles: Christopher Robin, Daring Charming, The Knight, Lost Boy

Nicknames: Josh, Col, Colten, Robin, Charming Jr, Monkey, Silly Ol’ Bear, Sweet Boy

Age: 16-22

Height: 5’9

Birthplace: The Enchanted Forest

Job: Peacekeeper, Knight, Prince

~~~

Parents: Snow White & Prince Charming — Amelia Parker & Nikolai Morozov

Uncles: Alexander Morozov (The Dark Prince), Cole Lensherr (Rumple), Captain Hook (Jeremy)

Aunts: Cinderella (Rochelle Romanoff) , Michelle Danvers (Charming) , Mal (Liane Felton)

Best Friends: Belladonna St. James — Golden Believer, Author, Black Swan

Sexuality: Into guy, girl or both?

~~

Face claims: Jacob Tremblay (young), Alexander Calvert (older)

~~~

— Personality 🧩

He teenager with a heart of gold, yet his journey through life has been marked by shadows of loneliness and uncertainty. Despite his innate kindness and compassion, Joshua often finds himself navigating the world with a sense of hesitancy and clumsiness.

He tends to be shy in unfamiliar situations, his steps cautious and his words often tinged with a hint of passive-aggressiveness as a shield against his own insecurities. Joshua's tendency to act before he thinks often leads to moments of forgetfulness and clumsiness, with questions arising either too late or too early in conversations.

Despite these challenges, Joshua possesses an unwavering determination to put his best foot forward, even if it means following someone else's lead. However, this inclination to defer to others sometimes lands him in trouble, as he struggles to assert himself in moments of uncertainty. Nevertheless, Joshua perseveres, his resolve unshaken as he strives to overcome obstacles and find his place in a world that often feels overwhelming and unfamiliar.

In addition, he is an invitation of light with a mere sense of darkness within due to be alone for so long and fear of being shut down for being an orphan. But he has an ability you can say, he can see people’s heart sometime’s before their action.

~~~

Skills:

Swordsmanship

Marksmanship (with guns)

Archery (Bow & Arrow)

Negotiation

Quick Thinking

Light Magic?

Favorite Things:

Music

Reading & Writing (he has a knack for taking down notes and references to his latest research)

Movies (comedic and acclaimed action movies)

His silly old bear

His blanket with a monkey imprint

Blueberry pie

Honey with a dash of salt (or any other favorite snacks)

~~~~

—Playlist 🎶

—Yellow - Coldplay, ‘For you, I’d bleed myself dry’

—Somewhere Only We Know - Keane, ‘And if you have a minute, why don’t we go talk about it somewhere only we know’

—Slipping Through My Fingers - ABBA, ‘What happened to the wonderful adventures, the places I had planned for us to go?’

—It’s Time - Imagine Dragons, ‘Now, don’t you understand that I’m never changing who I am?’

—You Are My Sunshine - Johnny Cash, ‘You'll never know, dear. How much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away.’

—Dear Theodosia - HAMILTON, ‘Pride is not the word I'm looking for. There is so much more inside me now.’

—Lost Boy - Ruth B, ‘There was a time when I was alone. Nowhere to go and no place to call home’

—Fight Song - Rachel Platten, ‘Take back my life song. Prove I'm alright song.’

—Stand By You - Rachel Platten, 'Cause I'm gonna stand by you. Even if we're breaking down. We can find a way to break through’

~~~~

—Background 🎞️

Growing up in the real world, he just a newborn when he came. The only thing he has of his bio parents are a blanket with his name 'Joshua C.' that had a tiny little monkey imprinted next to his name. He kept it over the years and never let it go hoping to find his parents one day and understand what happened. Growing up, he was put in the system being raised by families here and there, he found people who cared for him and others who didn't.

He was close to be adopted once by it didn't go how he might've wanted due to a few legal mix-ups that happened. He was fine with it. He stayed with a couple of good friends who's parents were more than happy to have him live with them.

There he would read comic books like marvel & dc, watch a a lot of movies like Peter Pan, Tangled, Real Steel, The Dark Knight, Avengers, Star Wars. He would grow up mixing himself with ways to escape reality by watching shows, hanging out with friends and always trying to be a good person by the end of the day. Despite it being hard, he sometimes stole from stores to survive which caused him to be treated badly for his crimes.

He wasn't the best at Math or Science to a certain extent, but he was rather good with English and History for some reason. He did trouble reading for a while, a teacher told him it’s problem with ADHD that he would have to work on later in life.

He liked art too, always doodling in his notebook. Over the years he did trying searching for his parents and wondered about his name but never got a clear answer. His last name was given by the first ever family that took him called 'Nolan' and it kinda stick with him. He liked it but he always went with the flow of it all, feeling a little numb by the world around him watching everyone pass by as he stayed in the same spot wondering what’s wrong with him.

Did he screw up somehow?

—Despite the goodness he has gotten, being lucky with things. He did have his harsh moments like shaped him into keeping a guard up every once in a while. Poor kid has had his ass handed to him more than once.

Some families that took him one just wanted the money, he tend to get bullied at school for not knowing he was, he was shy so he didn't always stick up for himself so he ended up a little bruised growing up, but he had a mouth on him for sure. He was a kid, so he may act like a baby when he's hurt or something.

Joshua may be shy, kind, a little bitter like a lemon and like to maintain a positive outlook on life but he is strong willing, doesn't like to listen at times and destroy orders if allowed to survive, he will talk back in his own way and have his mind tinkering with other ideas. He has a small drive within him to go with the flow but keep his head up and make sure to things turn out alright.

He was a trooper!

———

—Little flashbacks 🌌

In the enchanted forest, when the land found out about Amelia’s pregnancy, people were overjoyed and curious. Gifts were brought by friends, polls were made on names, some of their friends went overboard with designs on the nursery and so much more.

The parents were most excited of all. With the plenty of things that happened in their world, they thought children were out of the question but fate stepped in to say otherwise. Plenty of names were made in the polls, adding middle names for good measure.

When it came to gifts, a certain women in purple couldn’t help the urge but to go shopping in the very markets for stuffed animals and clothes of all kind.

Prince Nikolai Charming walks into the nursery one afternoon as his jaw dropped finding stuffed animals of different kinds all wrapped with a bow. A bear, a tiger, a small pig, a rabbit, and plenty of others. For a moment he thought his wife went overboard when a sweet cloud of purple smoke came popping in beside him as the women inside it grinned.

“You love it?” She said picking up one of the stuffed creatures playing with it’s jaw and said, “This one is Eeyore! Isn’t he cute?”

“You spoiling my child, they haven’t even arrived yet.” He replied with a chuckle reaching for a silly ol’ yellow bear, “Aww.”

“But aren’t they darling?”

“They are. Very are more than welcome to stay in this castle.”

“Wonderful! I also have a stuffed owl being brought up soon.”

The lady of the home walked in to see her husband and friend playing with the toys as if they are were children. She smiled asking, “Did you buy the whole market?”

“Hey! When you marry a prince, you understand the life of shopping for glory items.” Said Mal with a grin, “You love it?”

“I do. Cole will have a say about this, thinking you’re doing this to have your name on the poll.”

“Oh please, we would never..I like Liana as a name.”

“I knew it.” Responded her husband with a cheeky grin, looking over at the blanket laying over the crib the the stuffed bear in hand having an idea for later. He smirked to himself.

Charming moved behind his wife, using the paws of the bear to play the drums softly of her belly hoping it would get a kick out of their son or daughter. And to their surprise, a small kick came in return that startled his wife but got a laugh out of him. Liane laughed too.

Charming laughed, “Our kid seems to like the bear. Hmm, how about Winnie..?”

“..Pooh bear..” She added running her fingers across the stuff toy.

That same night as the two parents were crawling into bed, Charming hasn’t let go of that bear since, using it to tap over his wife’s belly as she laughed telling him to stop.

But he didn’t listen as he said, “Shh we are having father and baby playtime.”

“You’re a menace to society.” She repiled in between giggles.

“I know. I was thinking, for names..Joshua?”

“Joshua? I like it—no, I love it. Our little Josh and for a girl..Nadia?”

“Oooh Nadia..how about Robin? Nadia Robin”

“Pretty works for both!”

The two of them thought name list for a moment as their child kicked their mother again. Charming laugh finding it silly how his baby thinks it funny to frighten their mother as she glared at him not finding it so funny.

She spoke up this time holding up the list as she said, “Joshua..Christopher or Colton, as a middle name?”

He thought about it and snort pretending for a moment a scenario, “Joshua Christopher go to your room, young man..yeah I like it.”

“And Colton?”

“Hmm..Colton Robin, come downstairs for dinner we’re serving chicken!”

“Oooh Robin this time?”

As the parents talked issuing out names and combinations, their son or daughter kicked every once in a while. He was like their little monkey inside their mother’s belly.

~~~~

It was a late night, Amara Snow sat in the rocking chair of the nursery sewing together fabric to craft the blanket for their newly announced son.

She hummed a little tune instead of sleeping being careful with the needle saying, “You are gonna love it out here, bubba. You can jump around, learn how to read and write, have picnics outside theses walls, go to balls where you can dance past your bedtime..oh and you can hear your father sing.”

As if on cue, the man of the house walked in carrying designs he had for the blanket hearing the last part of her words.

He joked, “I don’t sing, my son.”

“Yes you do.” She replied noticing the papers in his hand, “What’s that?”

“Drawings I made for the blanket to put right next to his name.”

“Oh let me see.”

He reaches down to sit beside her, holding out the drawings to be made into patches for the blanket. One of a monkey, the other of a bear, a bird, a leaf, a crescent moon and a lovely sun.

The two of them choose the monkey to fit their little man best, deciding to place the right next to Joshua’s name in a sweet stylish handwriting. Cole wanted a settle for a stylish font for the name which was a darling choice.

“Our little monkey.” Nikolai joked resting a hand on her belly as a little punch was given in return causing him to gasp, “I thought you were asleep. Go to sleep!”

It was as if their son refuse to listen and kicked his father’s hand again. It was Snow’s turn to laugh at his reaction hearing that their son would be ground til he’s 2, if he doesn’t go to sleep. Her husband sent her a playful glare asking if she found it funny as she nodded.

“Then again, we aren’t much sleepers either hon.” Amelia added mid laugh.

“Not helping.” He respond trying to hide his smirk but failed.

~~~~

They had their good times and they’re bad with little Joshua despite not being born yet. Times Amelia would feel tired, other moments across during her pregnancy having gotten into some delicate cravings and or not fitting into her old dresses.

It kinda actually kinda cute sometimes, with their friends laughing. Cole would walk into her craving salted caramel cookies in the kitchen stealing one out of her hand taking a large bite as she pouts and glares at him. Charming would admit his one of his favorite moments were the fact that she had theses cravings, which meant he can buy as many treats as he liked. She would sometimes find his stuffing his face with leftovers in the middle of the night instead of resting and he would just give her a witty comeback in return.

Rochelle sometimes find her trying to sew a dress that would actually fit as she giggled wondering, if she’s alright and needed any help as the brunette would only nod.

“Your son is killing me.”

“Don’t talk about my child that way.”

“Joshua is trying to use my body as a punching bag resulting in my sore back and the other times, I’m carving something like pie or pasta.”

“Atta’ boy, he’s going to grow up and have an amazing taste in food like his father.”

Nik would hold back a laugh at his wife’s glare knowing she means well, just tired. Other days she was rather relaxed and chilling like nothing happened, enjoying her time. Other time he would get a glare from her that was rather hilarious to him.

“Are you serious?” She added with a half smile.

He cup her face and smile, “I’m kidding, love. I know you tired but think of this as his way of entertaining you while I’m gone.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry..I’m being a whiny wife to you.”

“It’s not your fault, love. You have every right to be this way.”

“But, I sound like a little bitch..I love our son, I’m just tired..”

“It’s okay. You need to rest.”

“So do you! You have been riding your horse, watching over our friends and practicing you’re fighting with Marlene for weeks now.”

“I’m fine.”

“Nicholas. You need to sleep, I’m worried about you.”

He smiled at how his wife was able to create life and worry about him all the same time despite her tiredness amazed him sometimes. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then one to her belly promising to draw himself a bath then get some rest later that night after dinner.

~~~~~

The day Joshua was born was an unexpected one. Within their friend group—found family—nothing is ever normal. Despite the circumstances of his birth and having only a few mere moments with him, a promise stayed true. Their son is a trooper no matter what and even if he felt alone in life, he never was due to his parents being there in spirt even if he didn’t know it.

Heck his dad was fighting knights with him in the hallways, holding a sword in one hand and his son perfectly safe in the other. He wiggled a bit didn’t cry, only whimpered softly at the sudden movements. Nik grinned to himself as his gaze fell to his boy.

It also helped that before closing the door to protect their son from danger, Nik reaches for his stuffed bear gently placing it right next to him, as he kissed his forehead. He smiled softly at his son sweet little face, remembering the framed photos of himself as a child at his old home when he just born.

His beautiful boy.

——

— Christopher Robin Era 🧸

The years when Joshua grew into his teenage-hood, he became more angsty and spiteful than ever before. Yes he was kind, humble enough and honest to everyone he spoke to. But he never felt truly valued or part of his pack. Despite being told time and time again by his father and mother, he was loved. He couldn’t fully comprehend the fact that he was meant to be home, safe and secure with them.

Especially with having an uncle so villainous as Alexander, and his adventures to different parts of the universe.

He decided to have faith in the possibility that he would get there someday and become worthy of the title, a part of the family. Because behind the awkward charm, clumsy tendencies, witty humor and gentle sarcasm held a lost boy from Neverland who was searching for comfort. And he found that comfort in old stuffed bear, Winnie The Pooh, who was there with him since day one of coming into this world as he never let go of him. He will forever be grateful for his father, Nikolai, for placing Pooh in the wardrobe that day, as that bear stayed with since birth.

-> He named Pooh bear, Winnie The Pooh, after the first kind person who treated him fair when he was only five. His kindergarten teacher Winnifred Robinson, as she was known to be a sweetheart towards him and his small set of classmates.

She could see a lot in someone by just the slightest hint of affection in her eyes. It instantly made Joshua smile and want to see the world instead of staying silent, allowing himself to explore creative ideas such as drawing and writing.

Due to spending so much time in her classroom, he would ask him about her thoughts on life and she would respond by saying whatever was on her mind in the most profound positive voice. Her voice was like honey.

Pooh brought support, reassurance and encouragement for him. Sometimes he would cuddle up with Pooh, looking up at the ceiling and just staring down at his chocolate brown buttons as the bear listened to him. It was like Pooh understood him in more ways than one.

Growing up, Pooh became his friend, as the two were going everywhere together. Hell, Joshua would eat his honey salted caramel cookies and play pretend that Pooh’s favorite treat was honey. When he was younger, he lost his silly old bear a couple of time in foster homes, as kids would throw the bear around and try to keep him away in the backyard to be dug up later. Which resulted in him having to wash the stuffed bear later on carefully and then put him on his bed for safety reasons.

-> When he was 14, Pooh ended up with a small cut on his chest and despite all of Joshua’s efforts, his sewing skills weren’t the best. He knew Pooh deserved a chance to look good and dapper in the eyes of his peers. So he found some cherry red fabric from the store across the street and kindly asked a friend, his caregiver at the time, to help him sew a shirt for the stuffed animals.

A few days later, Pooh was given a gift for his efforts, being a little cherry red shirt that covered his chest but left his belly open in the cutest way possible.

Joshua would muttered with a smile, “..silly old bear.”

As Joshua grew older, he became a bit colder than he expected to be but underneath that toughness, he was just as kind and loving as he used to be.

It just takes time for someone to see it, to listen and appreciate him for who he is. However to make sure he didn’t have his feelings hurt, he kept his guard up and watch his surroundings as much as possible. Which resulted in creating personas and short term alias with people he came across.

Some of alias came and went, but others stayed.

It’s how he met his first crush, Ginny Sullivan and her friends. Joshua was unsure of the girl and her two friends, so he decided to make himself an uneasy target and lie about himself.

He remembered he was rushing out of a store after stealing a small toy train, when he bumped into Ginny as she asked, “Woah, watch where you’re going, dummy.”

“So-sorry.” He said picking up his phone that fell on the ground.

“It’s cool. You’re in a rush?”

“More or less..”

“Where you headed?”

“Home.”

He left her on the streets alone until she crossed paths with the blonde girl again at the same spot. The second time, she stopped him, wanting to invite him out for a quick slice of pizza. He was 14 years old, he has nowhere else to be, no harm done right?

Wrong.

After that afternoon with Ginny, he grew to have a small crush on her. He never admitted it because he wasn’t interested in any relationship or anything, but he did regardless. She realized mid conversation she never asked him about his name, as Joshua blinked and said his name was Tim Robins.

And she surprisingly brought it.

Little did he know, Ginny was just using him to get something from the store across the street from the pizzeria. She wanted a pretty little bracelet from the back of the store. Because two weeks later of seeing each other, after a small date at McDonald’s, Ginny wanted to go to the store to buy some extra lipstick and Joshua shrugged deciding it would be a quick trip. He knew he wanted to sneak into that park on the other side of town later on, and she agreed to his request. Ginny grabbed her lipstick, an extra pair of sunglasses, a keychain and that cute little bracelet.

They were out of the store within a few minutes flat, sometime later the two of them were sitting lazily on the swings at the park, chatting and laughing. The two shared a small connection, with his parents always being busy and not having time for them (again, another lie on Joshua’s part), how they wished they could stop time and get a moment to breathe. Ginny smiled holding up the bracelet with a small chain of a flower on it, talking about how everyone is a flower and they just needed time to bloom.

Joshua felt that piece to his core and leaned in to kiss her cheek, taking Ginny by surprise as she pressed a small kiss to his cheek back.

However the moment was cut short, as two police officers found them, taking both teens to jail to be held overnight. Ginny lied saying it wasn’t her fault, that her “boyfriend wanted to treat her nice” as Joshua scoffed telling the officer the truth about what happened. That he had no idea that she stole the bracelet…

Let’s just say the next morning, Ginny didn’t talk to Joshua again and left the guy alone to take the blame. Once he got back to his foster parents, Joshua got a stern talking to and slapped for his actions, grounding him for a long period of time. Thankfully they didn’t press charges on the boy per say.

He climbed into his bed that day, laying down holding up Pooh and said, “Winnie, never fall for some dumb girl..she will just play you.”

He sighed to himself muttered, “..what am I doing? I barely go to school, don’t even bother to have friends..hell, I talk to my old stuff bear, no offense intended Pooh, I’m pathetic..”

“What does pathetic mean?” Said a tiny voice, who open the door to his bedroom with mousy brown hair, green eyes and wearing a blue dress.

His foster sister Darby, only 7 years old, who entered the room, allowing herself to sit on the bed without his permission to do so. Joshua just sighed and rolled his eyes at her explaining what the word meant as she nodded. She asked if he was in trouble and he just nodded.

“How long?” She asked pushing her bangs out of her face.

“No idea..” He answered with a sigh.

“..wh-so what are you gonna do now?”

“I don’t know. I’m screwed here..and I lied a lot about who I am..”

“Maybe you can find someone to tell you who you are?”

He scoffed, “Yeah right. The papers aren’t easy to find, Darb, I tried.”

“Well um…how about you make up a story?” She asked again digging her fingers into Pooh’s belly, “..like the drawings..”

“Like my drawings? Darb, I can’t just do that.”

“Yes you can! Like when you created those characters in your story like..um..Piglet, Tigger..and-and..”

“And Roo? The ones with Pooh I tell you about?”

She beamed and nodded, “Yes! Yes! Like the one where Pooh has a tea party with his friends and you invite me!”

He chuckled at that remebering that story, “I remember that. Pooh got his head stuck in a hole and his friends had to pull him out afterwards.”

“Yeah! You can do that!”

“..okay. Okay, I’ll bite, what would my name be?”

“I don’t know..”

Eventually he did figure it out. It took him a while, especially after his time with Darby’s parents were up, but he did. Joshua would spend time with his friends and the foster care workers, crafting little details of stories to tell one day in his book. He would sent the little drawings to the girl as she would write back in letter in appreciation for his stories.

He even wrote himself into the story as Carter Robins.

Of course, over the years after turning 15 and meeting his family, being his parents, aunts and uncles. Essentially spending some time Belladonna, finding his faith in people and understanding the truth to his history, he grew into changing the name.

He learned small details about his past experiences and hidden memories he had no idea about. Such as his full name, his skill set, his role in the world as peacekeeper among his friends and challenging his own thoughts on who he was meant to be.

It was nice yet difficult as his thoughts, opinions and feelings ate him away in confusion. He was always comparing himself to everyone else and wondered if he did belong there.

And he did. Because like anytime in Joshua’s life, it took time and patience to get to that point of acceptance in order to appreciate that account in his existence. As during an accidental encounter with Belladonna’s discoveries, two of them were sent back in time to the Enchanted Forest, before they were ever even considered ideas in their parent’s minds.

In order to get back and restore the small damage they done, the pair of friends had to go undercover as royals themselves. Thanks to Cole! Bella was not up for the challenge of disguising herself in some snarky little outfit in the beginning but as time passed she began to accept the plan.

Joshua took the lead during beginning of their trip, entering a Royal Ball (Princess Michelle’s party to where she would meet Rochelle for the first time) with Belladonna using fake names.

He announced them as Princess Leia Swan and used his middle name to refer to himself as Prince Christoper Robin.

——————

— The Eye Are Windows To The Soul 💫

Joshua's ability to perceive discern the intentions of others through his eyes is indeed a remarkable skill, one that sets him apart and adds depth to his character. His eyes serve as a mirror to the souls of those around him, reflecting their true nature and motivations with uncanny accuracy. Despite this extraordinary ability, Joshua remains humble and compassionate, using his gift for the greater good rather than personal gain.

His keen insight into human nature allows him to navigate complex social dynamics with ease, as he can see beyond surface appearances to uncover the underlying truths. Whether it's detecting deception or sensing genuine sincerity, Joshua's eyes serve as a guide in his interactions with others, offering him a unique perspective on the world.

One look into his eyes and you might as well served yourself a chance at being his friend or foe. It’s a pool of curiosity his eyes carry, that might even make the other wish they looked the opposite direction.

This skill not only enhances Joshua's ability to connect with people on a deeper level but also underscores his innate sense of empathy and understanding. By recognizing the complexities of human behavior, he is able to offer genuine compassion and support to those in need, making him a trusted confidant and ally to many.

In a world where words can often be misleading, Joshua's eyes stand as a beacon of honesty and authenticity, shining light on the darkness and illuminating the path towards truth and understanding.

————

— Overall Tale 📖

Joshua never thought himself as wanted, valued or respected enough to be cared for. As his journey from childhood to adolescence is marked by a profound sense of longing and displacement, coupled with moments of resilience and self-discovery.

Despite growing up in various foster homes and experiencing the transient nature of relationships, he finds solace in the companionship of his cherished stuffed bear, Winnie the Pooh. Pooh becomes more than just a toy; he is a constant source of comfort and a silent confidant in Joshua's tumultuous world.

Throughout his teenage years, Joshua grapples with a sense of identity and belonging, often feeling like an outsider looking in. He struggles to reconcile his desire for connection with his fear of rejection, leading him to adopt personas and aliases as a form of self-preservation. Despite his attempts to shield himself from hurt, he remains inherently kind-hearted and compassionate, traits that define his character amidst the chaos of adolescence.

Joshua's journey is also marked by pivotal encounters and moments of self-reflection. His brief but meaningful connection with Ginny Sullivan offers a glimpse of vulnerability and yearning beneath his guarded exterior. However, it also serves as a reminder of the complexities of human relationships and the importance of trust and authenticity.

As he navigates the challenges of adolescence, Joshua discovers the power of storytelling and creativity as a means of self-expression and healing. His alter ego, Christopher Robin, becomes a conduit for his imagination and a way to explore his own identity in a safe and nurturing environment.

Yes it will take time, however he is willing to take a step forward and make himself known to the people around him that he’s here to stay.

———

———

Ahh wow that was a lot! Sorry if it was long (i might add more stuff later you knows?)

Anyways please let me know what you think in the comments bellow, let’s chat!

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @haleripley @starkleila @cherrysft @mandylove1000 @yetanotherwells @topgun-imagines @buckysteveloki-me @sherloquestea @nakiaswg @carellmcu @ximehs and etc

[12msweekly]

Chapter 1

     Alright, might as well. Martin says that I am by far the most intelligent pirate he’s ever met, and that it would be an immense blight on this world and worlds beyond if I do not record my thoughts in some way shape or form, and to that, I have three points of order.

     Number one, I am not a pirate. I don’t know why he insists that I am, as I bring up the facts contrary to this belief of his every time the topic comes up in conversation. 

     Number two, it is quite unfair to call me “the most intelligent pirate,” namely because I am not a pirate, as previously stated. Although I possess the knowledge to read and write in common vernacular, I am by far not intelligent in any real meaning of the word. Many sea-fairing folk are quite more intelligent than I am, choosing to spend little time on land, and only when necessary. That is a skill of this life I have yet to master. If the grand fates that command all in this universe descended from the heavens and offered me the chance to trade all academic ability for the common sense of the average sailor, I would trade those skills in a very quick fashion. 

     Thirdly, I doubt anything would be amiss if my thoughts and stories of my travels were not shared with the world. I do not hold myself higher than any other privateer just because of my advanced education. (Advanced in regards to my sea-faring kin.) And while my time out on the twelve mystic seas might cause some odd level of excitement in the land-locked people of my home, I must assure you that the actual fact of the matter is that living a life like mine does not bring any happiness beyond the fleeting pride of a job well done, a feeling entirely obtainable through far less dangerous occupations.  

Despite all of the reasons I have made evident to you here, the persuasive nature of Martin has gotten the best of me. And so he has supplied me with a journal and ink in which to write in, and detail my many adventures here on the mystic seas. I believe he intends on editing through my journals post-adventure, and publishing them through his mothers printing company as some sort of daring adventure book. So, if you are reading this right now, that means that you have for some reason spent your assumedly well earned coin on this book, and are cracking open the pages for the purpose of entertainment, or some sort of escapism to some great adventure you could imagine yourself as a part of. As a service to you, I must inform you that you have been japed. This is not that sort of book. 

I am no adventurer, and while the life I live is out of the ordinary, I regret to inform you that it is either motomous, or sense-shattering terrifying. I guess, since you have spent your money on this book, it is now my duty to attempt to conform this story into some sort of narrative that follows a direct plot. Blast you Martin! This pressure is wearing me down now, I'm doubting myself and how I choose to recount my own life, just because some poor bloke in a few years time spent some pocket change on a paperback. 

I work for a shipping vessel, in which I am the navigator. I have spent many years studying the stars for the explicit purpose of being a navigator. My father wished me too, as I might serve some form of rank with the Kalidone Navy, as his father did. I did serve there for some time, but within my first year of service, I was let off, for reasons unbeknown to me. 

Now I work for a shipping vessel, known as “The Winter’s Storm.” We are an average sized ship, and we ship contents of all kinds. This upcoming *adventure* We have been tasked to go on sees us shipping foodstuffs to the sea of forests, which excites me much. I must say reader, I have already spent many nights in my home studying the stars, double and triple checking that my calculations for a Way are correct. 

I guess it might do you some good to describe the process, as tedious as it may be. Simply put, ever so often in the ocean, a large wave will be created randomly, and by sailing through that oncoming wave, one might take a shipping vessel from one sea to another. This wave is very large, and crests at an odd 90 degrees. These waves are known as Ways, with a capital W. Behind each Way there is light from this other sea, showing a small glimpse of another world. Other seas can only be traveled to by this method, as they do not exist anywhere on our known world. Some in my field believe that they are planets like ours and orbit the same sun as we do. I will say, this is one of the main reasons why I prefer to spend my time with sailors. I do not need to listen to half-baked theories created by snobby aristocats who desire knowledge as a hobby alongside tennis and colonization. 

At this point in time, it is two days out from my journey, and I have already scoured the stars for the placement of the Way into the sea of forests as then my crew will be able to deliver the cargo. Once there, I will also study their stars for the time and location of the Way back to my homeland. Oh! Interesting point of order. While titles for the 12 mystic seas are known worldwide and are a unified device, titles for my own sea are not as uniform. I suppose our sea is not a part of the 12 as it is not nearly as mystical as the rest, but I digress. The elves of the sea of forests have taken to calling us “The sea of men,” but I disagree with the sentiment behind this title. Man references us as humans, but also represents us as intelligent people. I believe the elves to be “men” the same way I see me and my people. This is one of a few discussion topics I get into with the elven scientists that excites all present parties. 

I’m quite excited to take on this journey, so much so that I have spent the hours needed to calculate a Way multiple times, just to make sure I have dotted my I’s and Crossed my T’s, as my father would say. The Elven scientists are such a smart and insightful group, and the nation we are traveling to, the Empire of Salion, is home to elves whose company I adore so much that I am considering lying to my crew about finding a Way home. Not for long, just for a few weeks to talk and discuss science among them. I always wanted to be a scientist in my youth, studying all forms of arcana and such, bending the elements to my will for all manor of reasons, but due to my father’s wishes for my life, I had to settle for being a navigator. I will say, since being expelled from the navy, I have purchased a ruby from a street side vendor, through which I can create a limited amount of fire. I spent quite a lot of money on this artifact, but it has served me well, and I would not be alive without it. Perhaps some day I may have enough time and materials on my hand that I may learn the arcana of fire myself, that I may not rely on an object for defence. I know that the elves have a strong connection to the sea, and many of them can manipulate water through taught abilities. I shall ask them about this matter when I visit! If they can teach me of this power, I may be required to keep our crew there for longer, for truly becoming a scientist is a lifelong dream! 

 Hopefully my crew does not read this when Martin publishes my stories at some time. I truly do care for them, but I would not call them friends. I may see in the future if I can arrange a way to stay in the sea of forests without deceit, as I already have a tenuous relationship with them, and this information would create a trench so deep between us that all the seas would be pulled in. Alas! My intelligence has not failed me! For I have just remembered that they cannot read!

[olliepig]

Waiting in the Wings ch 3

Finally, I made it through writing this! Many, many, many thanks to @willow-salix for her endless patience, phone calls and editing wizardry. 

As always, the full thing can be found on AO3 here.

Chapter 3

Once back at Creighton-Ward manor, the group settled easily on the couches in the private living room, Cat in particular enjoying the chance to finally put her feet up and relax after the performance. The boys had both ditched their bow ties and jackets the second they were through the door and Penny herself had changed from her evening dress into something infinitely more suitable for relaxing.

As Parker poured the first drinks for them before retiring for the night, Scott took the time to take in the surroundings properly as he had no recollection of ever being invited into this area of the building. Even though their families were close, visits tended to be for work purposes and any time he had spent there had been in one of the more formal reception rooms. He didn’t know why, but the idea that Penny had a comfortable sofa and tv like everyone else amused him somewhat. She had always seemed to him to be so other-worldly and different that it was comforting to know that she was actually just like everyone else.

After the performance Cat had changed into a woolen sweater and jeans, managing to somehow look casual and effortlessly stylish all at once and meaning that she was the only one not needing a change of outfits when they arrived. She was immediately at home in the manor, curled up on the sofa next to Scott and making his heart rate rise slightly with just her proximity.

What surprised Scott was that Gordon also seemed completely at ease as he settled himself on the couch next to Penny. His younger brother was known for being unfazed by new situations but something about his demeanour made Scott strongly suspect that this wasn’t the first time he had been here. Filing that thought away for future examination, he turned his attention back to the conversation.

“So, now we're away from the theatre, what did you guys actually think of the ballet? Did you enjoy it?” Cat felt compelled to ask, almost too scared to hear the answers, especially the one from the man sitting next to her.

“It was amazing,” Scott found himself gushing before anyone else could speak. “You were incredible, I’ve never seen you dance like that. It was a great night and you’ll like this, Gordon even got us ice creams in the interval.” “Well, to be fair it’s been a few years since you last saw me. And you’re right, you can’t go to the theatre without an interval ice cream. It’s tradition.” Cat smiled at Gordon, mentally adding another thing onto her list of reasons why she liked him.

“That's exactly what I said,” exclaimed Gordon triumphantly, warming even more to the dancer and very much enjoying watching his big brother trying to navigate a crush for the first time in years. “So, you two were at school together?” he continued, keen to find out more both about Cat and about Penny’s early life.

“That’s correct. We both attended White Lodge for 2 years - ” answered Penny before realising that perhaps the question had been directed at her friend and stopping suddenly with a flush of embarrassment.

“Until Penny decided that a life on the stage wasn’t for her and decided to go into international espionage instead,” added Cat with a grin aimed squarely at Penny.

“Um what’s White Lodge? Is that the name of the school?” clarified Gordon, realising that he was going to have to work hard to keep up with the two women who seemed to finish each other's sentences.

“Sorry, yes it’s the Royal Ballet Lower School. You go there from 11 til you’re 15 and then to the Upper School at Covent Garden. Penny could easily have been a dancer -”

“But it wasn’t for me,” she finished seamlessly, with an elegant shrug. “It’s a hard life and I just wasn’t willing to devote myself completely to one thing at that age.”

Now that Gordon knew the extent of the training Penny had been through, he could see that her graceful way of moving and lithe form had come at least partially from that time. Not that he was supposed to know exactly how lithe she was, but that ship had well and truly sailed and he definitely wasn’t going to forget the images that flooded his head any time soon.

“So was it a boarding school?” Gordon asked, dragging his thoughts back to the conversation, very aware that sitting was about to become very uncomfortable for him if he didn’t stop that train of thought quickly.

“Yes dear, so we were there for most of the year. And during the holidays Cat tended to come and visit us here so we were together most of the time in those first few years.”

“I didn’t have the best home life when I was young so Penny let me come here and stay instead of going back to the house for the holidays,” explained Cat.  “That actually continued whenever our holidays coincided even after she’d left the school so I’m very much indebted to her and her family.”

“And your family didn’t mind?” asked Gordon.

“I don’t think they really cared to be honest. My dad walked out when I was little and my step-dad didn’t really like me at all. My mum did, in her way, but ultimately she was more interested in her new marriage than me.” Cat looked up and smiled at the expressions of sadness on Penny and Scott’s faces. Her family was something she rarely talked about, preferring to maintain a safe distance from her past and it now barely bothered her to think of it privately. Somehow though, seeing other people's reactions to her story seemed to trigger an emotional response that she really didn’t want to deal with here.  

Scott caught her eyes and Cat was suddenly reminded of how sweet and caring he had always been about her history when they were together and how mindful he had always been of it when talking about his own family. Feeling an ache starting in her chest for his comfort now, she quickly looked away trying her best to maintain her dignity.

As the only member of the group to whom this was new information, Gordon was horrified that someone could be treated that way and his feelings were clear for all to see. Although he obviously knew that it happened and he’d come across others who had been through similar upbringings, there was something about the woman sitting opposite him talking so frankly and openly about her parents not caring for her that broke his heart a little.

“That’s ridiculous! Some people just shouldn’t be allowed to have kids!” he exclaimed loudly, not sure if he was more surprised by his outburst or the sudden feeling of Penny’s hand reassuringly on his arm, its presence instantly calming his temper but leaving him flustered in oh so many other ways. Which were made worse by the fact that his brother was sitting directly opposite him with a strange smirk on his face.

“I know what you mean but you don’t need to worry about me,” Cat continued, taking in the scene being played out in front of her but choosing to let it go without comment, beyond happy that her friend had found someone whom she obviously liked so much but also with a slight pang of jealousy that she didn’t have someone like that in her life. “A lot of people say that they wouldn’t be where they are today without their parents and that’s definitely true for me too, just not in the same way as most others. I threw myself into dancing so I could get away from the house as quickly as possible. It worked - there’s no way we could have afforded the ballet school without financial help but they must have liked me at my audition because I got a full scholarship. I moved away at 11 and that just spurred me on to work harder and harder so I didn’t have to go back.”

Cat risked another quick glance at Scott as she finished speaking and was surprised to find him watching her with something akin to pride in his eyes. She held his gaze for a second and gave him a small smile, enjoying the flutter of excitement that shot through her as he smiled back before she tore herself away and back to the conversation. Mentally, she slapped herself as she looked away. She had promised herself that she wasn’t going to get involved with him and reminded herself again of all the reasons why it couldn’t work. And yet she couldn’t deny that there was something there. Something that she’d been missing for a long time.

“It was at least partially Cat’s work ethic that convinced me that I didn’t want to be a dancer,” chimed in Penny, finally taking her hand back from where it had been resting on Gordons arm, leaving him feeling strangely bereft at its absence. “Do you remember we used to put on ballets in the ballroom during the holidays and make poor Parker watch them?”

“Oh god, yes! The poor man probably still hates me for that, although he did always give us flowers after every show,” laughed Cat, as Gordon and Scott both smirked at the thought of the gruff butler being forced to sit and feign enjoyment through a kids ballet show.

“Well,” Penny turned back to the boys, still smiling at the memory of their childhood escapades, “I used to watch her practicing the same steps over and over again while we were here during the holidays and it was just not something I could ever see myself doing for the rest of my life. Cat used to get the highest marks in the class in our exams and everyone used to talk about her natural talent but I knew exactly how much work went into making that natural ability work for her.”

Cat blushed as she looked up and met Gordon’s russet eyes, filled with knowing appreciation of her dedication to honing her skills. She smiled at the former Olympian, realising that out of all of them, he probably best understood the sacrifices needed to make it to the top of a competitive vocation.

She didn’t even need to look at Scott to know that his eyes would be filled with the pride she could feel radiating out of him. Nevertheless, she couldn’t resist a quick glance and he didn’t disappoint, fixing her with a large grin that left her in no doubt of his feelings and flustering her as she tried to deflect the attention.

“You’re too kind but I didn’t have too much of a choice about working hard - I had to be the best to keep my scholarship. Eventually it just became a habit and it's not something I’ve ever lost. What I remember about school is you absolutely obliterating everyone in the academic exams, Penny. Let's be honest, dancing isn’t the most important job in the world and you’re definitely much better doing, well, whatever it is you do now.” Cat turned to an enthralled Gordon and continued.  “Penny was head and shoulders above the rest of us academically and to be honest I think it would have been a waste if she’d stayed there and become a dancer.”

“Perhaps,” Penny conceded, “but I’m glad I had that experience anyway, ” she continued, deciding the conversation needed moving on and looking between Cat and Scott who had up until then been uncharacteristically quiet. “How did you two meet?”

“Oooh, you’ll like this,” Cat exclaimed, immediately sitting forward as Scott dropped his head into his hands with a barely audible groan, instantly piquing Penny and Gordon’s interest. “I was out at a bar in Richmond with some of my friends from the company when a group of guys came in. One of whom was wearing a pair of rather fetching red PVC thigh high boots,” she finished, fixing Scott with a rather devilish grin, as Gordon exploded with laughter.

“Oh, so you’re ‘kinky boots man’?” clarified Penny, somehow managing to maintain her decorum despite Gordon nearly sliding off the sofa next to her in mirth with tears streaming down his face.

“He certainly is,” Cat answered for Scott, who was still trying unsuccessfully to disappear into the sofa in embarrassment. “We reckoned it was a dare of some kind because, other than the boots, everyone was dressed normally. We sat and debated it for a while and some of the girls were trying to find a way of getting the attention of the rest of his friends but it looked like it would take forever to find out the story and I’m really impatient, so I took myself off up to the bar at the same time as ‘kinky boots guy’ to ask. We got chatting, the groups merged for the night and the rest is history.”

“And what exactly was the reason behind the boots may I ask?”

Scott looked over at Cat and shook his head in exasperation, the effect undone somewhat by the smile that he couldn’t quite keep off his face as the memories of that night came flooding back to him. Doing the best impression of innocence she could manage, Cat smiled sweetly back at him but the glint in her eyes gave her away and he genuinely wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle or kiss her. Shifting uncomfortably, he turned his focus back to the occupants of the other sofa as he tried to work out exactly how his life had reached this point.

“It was a dare I had with some of the guys in the squadron,” Scott finally supplied, resigned to his fate now that the story was out in the open. “I don’t even know where the boots came from but we found them and decided that whoever lost the next race we did to the mess had to wear them on the next night out. I was the quickest of the lot of them so I agreed but they ganged up on me and kept shoving me out of the way. One of them managed to knock me over a low wall and by the time I was on my feet again they’d all finished. So the boots were mine.”

“That does make more sense I guess,” Gordon spluttered, reaching for his phone. “We had similar things in WASP. I’d give anything to see pictures of that though.”

“Well unlucky for you, there aren’t any. And not a word to the others. Especially Alan. Please?” Scott warned, hating himself for spoiling Gordon’s fun but unwilling to have this conversation repeated to their baby brother by anyone other than himself. He had learned enough about Gordon’s propensity for embellishment to know that he did not want to take the risk with a story that had as many possibilities as this.  

“Well, I could be persuaded…” Gordon sat back expectantly, leaving his phone mercifully untouched.

“We can discuss THAT on the way back home tomorrow,” Scott spoke with more finality that he felt, concerned about the price his brother would expect for his silence but knowing that there was nothing he could do to avoid at least some form of bribery. He had hoped to keep his escapade it the boots private, something he had managed well over the years. He hadn’t factored in Cat however, which he was now realising was a rookie error.

“Well, if that's the best you can do, I think I’m going to turn in for the night, ” Gordon announced with an exaggerated yawn, bringing Scott’s attention back to the conversation from where it had been happily gagging his little brother. “It’s been a long day what with the change in time zones and whatnot.”

Scott’s suspicions were immediately raised. He knew for a fact that Gordon had slept on their journey over to England and that he never willingly took an early night if there was something better on offer and nothing to get up for the next morning. He didn’t miss the look that went between Gordon and Penny as he spoke nor the slight blush that appeared on the Lady’s face in response to it. Suddenly, Scott realised that he may have some leverage against Gordon after all and his worry about everyone hearing about the boots lessened considerably.

“You know which room you’re sleeping in tonight?” Penny checked, making Scott raise a quizzical eyebrow at Cat who smiled and rolled her eyes in response.  

“Absolutely” Gordon grinned, holding Penny’s gaze as he stood up and stretched theatrically. Dragging  his eyes away from the Lady, goodnight wishes were given along with a hug for Cat. Passing behind the sofa as he headed for the door, he trailed his fingers lightly over Penny’s shoulders making her shiver unconsciously at his touch. A cheery wave from the doorway, another lingering look for Penny and he was gone, leaving the others to continue their night.

Settling back down after Gordon’s departure, Scott was glad to realise that he wasn’t especially required in conversation beyond maintaining a polite level of interested mumblings. It had quickly turned to some of the technicalities of the ballet that evening, with Penny giving a more detailed critique than she had earlier before moving on to more general talk about people he didn’t know so he contented himself instead with sipping his drink and watching the interplay between the friends.

Penny’s formal facade had slipped more and more as the night had gone on, especially since she had become engrossed in conversation with her best friend and he found it fascinating to see the real woman peeking through. He’d always known that she must have a more informal persona underneath the layers of etiquette but it still somehow shocked him to see her with her legs curled up beneath her on the sofa, glass of wine in hand, chatting with her best friend.

As the minutes passed however, he was forced to admit to himself that he was increasingly struggling to focus on anything that wasn’t the woman sitting next to him. Every time he started to form any kind of coherent thoughts about anything, he was distracted by the sound of her voice and her laugh.

It had been clear to him from the beginning that he was still very much attracted to her but he just couldn’t for the life of him work out what was going through her head and whether she felt the same in return.

She was still catching his gaze for a split second longer than would be considered normal and there were a couple of times that he caught her glancing at him and smiling in a way that he would ordinarily read as flirting but he just wasn’t completely confident and didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, especially as she was so close to Penny. Generally, he was very confident of his ability to read people but it felt like he had a total block on understanding the one person in the room that he desperately wanted to and it was frustrating him no end.

Sitting opposite her guests, Penny yawned and finished her drink. She had been enjoying watching the interplay between them and was sure that they thought they were being subtle but she could read Cat like an open book and Scott had spent most of the evening gazing at her like a lovesick teen so it wasn’t difficult to imagine what he was thinking.

Swirling beneath her observations however were more determined thoughts that no amount of distraction could suppress. Thoughts that had her glancing over to where she had last seen the young man who had sat next to her until recently, whose fingers had seared trails across her shoulders as he left. Her sense of duty to her guests meant that she stayed until they were ready to leave. Her glass remained empty in preparation for that moment.

Curled up like her namesake on the sofa next to Scott, Cat was taking great delight at watching her friend shift uncomfortably in her seat as they talked, peeking at the door and clearly wanting to follow Gordon but feeling unable to do so until her other guests had retired for the night. To a casual observer, Penny looked to be completely relaxed but Cat had the advantage of years worth of friendship and could tell that an internal struggle was raging between what upbringing told her was the etiquette with guests and her more immediate desire.

Feeling in the mood for a little mischief, she kept the conversation going, extending it at every natural break and enjoying the sight of Penny becoming more and more desperate to make her escape.

She knew full well that Gordon’s departure was the reason but the fact that neither of them had come clean about their relationship meant that it was possible to plead ignorance if ever challenged. She was so entertained watching Penny’s struggle, she almost missed the look Scott gave when Mark, her partner from the ballet that evening, was mentioned.

She wasn’t unaware of how outsiders might view her close friendship with her fellow dancer but it surprised her to see a flash of hurt in his eyes before it was quickly concealed as they returned back to their previous studied calm. Having spent the entire evening hyper aware of the man next to her, she couldn't help but smile at the thought that it might not just be her that was feeling their old attraction again.

Despite her awareness of his every move, as the evening had progressed Cat had become more and more at ease with the man sitting next to her. Being a dancer, she was used to physical contact and, as the temperature dropped with the passing hours, she thought nothing of it when she shifted her position to be ever so slightly closer to him, finding his warmth to be comforting in its familiarity.

As Cat shifted to lean on him, Scott instantly stiffened before forcing his muscles to relax again, despite his brain going at a million miles an hour trying to work out if it meant something. He just had no idea how to act and what was expected of him, caught between not wanting to make a scene in the middle of Penny’s house if he got things wrong and every nerve in his body screaming at him to wrap his arm around her and pull her in against him.

Eventually, after artificially extending the conversation for as long as she dared Cat finally conceded that it was time for her to go to bed too. Scott, who had not been oblivious to what she had been up to agreed readily that bed sounded like a good idea and so the group disbanded for the night, with Penny heading upstairs to her suite while Cat and Scott made their way through the mansion to the guest wing where their bedrooms were situated.

As they walked, Scott took the time to admire the effortless grace of his companion. On the stage she was elegance personified but now, with only the barest smudge of makeup on and her long hair cascading in waves down her back, she looked even more beautiful to him if that was possible. How he longed to run his fingers through that hair again, maybe brushing it gently away from her face before leaning down for a gentle kiss… Pulling himself back to reality for the millionth time that evening, he cleared his throat making Cat look up at him in expectation.

“What’s going on between those two do you think?” Scott wondered, realising that they were out of earshot of anybody who would care. He felt strangely unable to start the conversation he had been desperate to have all night so he had settled on the next best thing available and silently kicked himself for it.

“Scott Tracy, you are a gossip!”

“I am not,” he protested half heartedly.

“Yes you are, and I love it,” Cat countered, catching his eyes and smiling, enjoying once again the flutter in her chest when he smiled back. “But I have no idea what’s happening there I’m afraid. She told me about a ‘Gordon’ who she had taken a liking to a year or so ago and there was something about a moment they had in a temple but she wasn’t very specific. Most likely because she wasn’t telling me exactly who he was.” “I wonder if that was when they got trapped?” Scott mused, more to himself than anyone else, remembering the day they thought they had lost Penny and Gordon on an exploratory study of the Tomb of the Laughing King as it collapsed around them. The memory triggered a flash of anger at that old coot Professor Harold for callously suggesting that they should be sacrificed for the good of archaeology before quickly dousing it with the shame of having to be pulled away by Virgil before he did something he would have almost certainly regretted.

“They got what? She didn’t tell me that part!” Cat exclaimed, completely missing the emotions playing out over Scott’s face thanks to her surprise at his revelation. She had always understood that Penny’s involvement with International Rescue meant that there would be large parts of her life that she wouldn’t be privy to, but somehow it was still shocking to be confronted with evidence of it. “Well, I guess she plays her cards close to her chest, does our Penny. Even with me.”

“I’ve never known Gordon willingly take an early night when there’s nothing on the next day so something has to be up. And did you see the way they were looking at each other?” enquired Scott, giving Cat exactly the sort of look that his brother had been aiming at Penny all evening.

“Oh I completely agree about the looks,” Cat smiled, her heart rate quickening at the sudden tension that had sprung up between them. Something intangible had just shifted and she felt unaccountably nervous, knowing that despite all her promises to herself that she wasn’t going to let anything happen with him, now her mind was filled with desire and not much else. “There’s definitely something going on. I’m sure between the two of us we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“We sure will. Well, this is me here, ” Scott admitted as they slowed to a halt outside one of the many doors. “Thanks for inviting me tonight. I had a great time.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m just glad you enjoyed it, I was worried you’d be bored.” Cat broke his gaze and looked at the floor at her admission, embarrassed that she still felt that she needed his approval. It had been years since she last thought about him before he waltzed back into her life and now here she was again, desperate for him to notice and appreciate her.

Seeing Cat standing  looking so unsure of herself, it was all Scott could do not to scoop her up in his arms. The difference in her from earlier was startling to him - mere hours before, she had been completely at ease alone on the stage in front of 2500 people, but here in the corridor she seemed so fragile that he longed to hold her tight and protect her from the world.

“You really didn’t need to be. And if you ever want another supporter at one of your shows then I’d be honoured to be there,” Scott added sincerely. He had enjoyed his night at the ballet much more than he had expected and the thought of having more experiences like that at the theatre was something he was very happy to explore. Especially if it meant spending more time with Cat.

“I’d be careful what you wish for if I were you,” Cat joked with a wicked smile, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders now she knew he was serious about his enjoyment of the ballet. “But seriously, thank you. It was really nice knowing you were there tonight.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Scott was at a loss for words. He desperately didn’t want to say goodnight but he couldn’t think of any plausible reason to keep talking either.

“I guess this is goodnight then,” Cat said, smiling ruefully, wishing that there was some way of prolonging the night. If she was honest with herself, what she wanted to do was reach up and kiss Scott, but her fear of being rebuffed was keeping her paralysed.

“I guess so…”

“Goodnight, Scott. I’ve had a really good time tonight. I’m glad we met each other again”

“Me too. Like you wouldn’t believe. Night night, Cat,” he replied softly.

Knowing that she wouldn’t forgive herself if he didn’t take the chance but steeling herself for rejection, Cat could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she reached up to wrap her arms around him. Taking a chance, she brushed his cheek with her lips and Scott felt it like a bolt of lightning. After holding the hug for as long as she dared, she pulled back slightly and felt Scott’s arms stay securely around her waist, just as they had 2 weeks previously.

“Can I ask you something before we head to bed?” he started, more sure of the answer now he could feel her kiss seared onto his cheek but knowing he wouldn’t forgive himself if he proceeded without checking first.

“Of course. Ask away.”

“What’s going on with you and Mark?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Cat laughed. “He’s my best friend besides Penny. I’ve known him since I joined the company and we’ve been pretty much inseparable ever since.”

“Ah, right. I just wasn’t sure when I saw you walking back to the dressing rooms tonight...” Scott tailed off, feeling suddenly stupid for even considering it.

“Well, well, well. Are you jealous, Mr Tracy?” Cat teased, raising an eyebrow as their eyes locked together, the smoulder she found there making her breathing ragged.

“No, I just, um…” The relief Scott felt for knowing that there was nothing stopping him from acting on his feelings was tempered by a sudden indecision as to how to proceed. He was desperate to kiss her but he wanted to take things at her pace. However, a glance down at her slightly parted lips just as she licked them as if in anticipation was enough to burst the dam he had been holding back all night.

Before he knew what he was doing his lips had found hers, crushing them and surprising even himself with the force of his reaction. But what surprised him even more was that Cat hadn’t kneed him in the groin and actually seemed to be kissing him back. Despite that, when he broke the kiss he was still quite prepared to apologise if he had made some massive error in judgement. Instead, he was met by flushed cheeks and a pair of sparkling eyes.

They stilled for a moment, taking in the sudden change in their relationship before Cat reached up for another kiss, barely brushing his lips with her own and making him moan with a delicious mix of pleasure and frustration as she teased him, knowing that he longed for more but unwilling to let him have everything his own way. His lips were perfectly soft, just as she remembered and his kisses generated a burning heat which slowly spread out across her body, leaving her aching to feel his skin against hers.

Gradually she relented to his desire, slowly increasing the pressure and deepening their kisses as she snaked her tongue along the seam of his lips, encouraging them to part. Her lips felt smooth and firm beneath his own as his world ceased to exist beyond the woman in his arms. Memories and sensations from all the other times he had held and kissed her flooded back and he felt his body respond, sending all his blood south and leaving him lightheaded.

Her breathing ragged, Cat pulled back to meet his eyes again, the burning desire in their blue depths ripping through her, stripping away any defences she had built; she could no longer deny that she wanted him and she wanted him right now. A look passed between them that they had shared many times in the past and they simply fell on each other, all caution thrown to the wind.

Scott kissed her again and again, harder and with more urgency which she met with an immediate response. Totally lost in the moment, his knees suddenly went weak and he staggered slightly as her hand slid up to the back of his head, her fingers entwining themselves in his hair and pulling slightly. She was the only one who had ever discovered the way to drive him completely to the edge and it was nearly the end of him right then. Tightening his grip, he was completely lost to her.

Cat smiled to herself at Scott’s reaction, enjoying the sensation of his hand now tangling itself in the long strands of her own hair as he drew her closer to him and pressed his hips against her, letting her feel the unmistakable bulge against her stomach. Desperately, she clawed at his shirt, pulling it out from his waistband and sliding her hands up the smooth skin on his back making him moan again as he kissed her harder while he fumbled for the door handle.

Thinking of nothing but their aching need for each other, they practically fell into the bedroom, not caring who heard the door slamming behind them.

[ashleyswrittenwords]

How to be a Queen [Part 25]

Summary: Princess Zelda is at a loss. Her handed royal responsibilities have begun to weigh heavily on her and she is eventually backed into a corner. Live a life she loathes or run away from everything she’s ever known? Navigating life is hard, and Link forces her to learn that she doesn’t have to do it alone.

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Part 1

How To Be A Queen

I’m afraid your apologies fall upon blind eyes. The fact that you were able to sneak three letters was a surprise in itself. Please do not believe you have the power to bring your queen to her knees by missing your imaginary quota. We have a mutual understanding of priorities.

Remember, your safety is my everything.

No matter how you prefer it not to be.

Days folded into weeks and I was tied fast to the rolling waves.  

The goddesses willed today to be kind. The skies were clear and though summer was coming to an end, the breeze that rustled the trees was still warm. Hyrule Castle’s grounds are expansive and stretch into densely wooded forests owned exclusively by the Crown. Birds chirped sweet songs from the tall branches alongside the distant hum of the royal apiaries.

I shrieked. A clank of metal cut through the peacefulness.

My thin blade raked against the ground before its little momentum made it favor one side and hit the clay lamely. The backside of my hand burned an angry red and I pressed my lips together to hold a curse. The attacker, who I tossed an evil glare at, laughed gutturally.

“Infirmi vehvi.”

The passing glance turned into a scowl. I straightened, shooting a pointed accusation at Urbosa. “I am not weak.”

The corner of her mouth hiked upward. She even bent down to grab my weapon for me, tossing it my way instead of handing it over. I let out a short gasp as my fumbling hands took hold of the hilt.

“Oh, you’ve been studying!” Urbosa clapped mockingly with her own blade. “A shame your swordplay doesn’t match your academia.”

The sword was heavy in my hand, almost weighty enough that I needed to use both arms. My biceps burned and breath didn’t come to me easily. I let the weapon droop, a particularly undignified stance. “Impa, I implore you to reconsider.”

A tea table with two petite chairs sat at the edge of the copse. It didn’t belong with the scenery and had been drug from the castle several weeks ago. Impa looked up, languish in her movements as she pulled down her spectacles – another quality to her that made her seem so much older than she was. Odd rocks acted as paperweights to hold down the documents before her.

“Certainly, Your Majesty,” she said, dryly. “Inform me of which physical activity you prefer.”

I almost whined. “None. This is counterintuitive.”

“And wasting away in your office is better? No, don’t say your bedchambers because I have caught you time and time against sneaking letters out in the middle of the night,” Urbosa leaned on one hip.

Honestly? Even when I stamped my foot on the dirt and made a child of myself in front of the royal guard, I couldn’t completely disagree. It was mid-August in central Hyrule and for weeks at a time I would go without seeing the sun. Urbosa and Impa had been scheming for this together; forcing me outdoors to play petty games and when I vehemently worked against them under the guise of productivity, they played a hand I hadn’t seen coming.

“Ah, well,” my advisor sat back in her garden chair, towards her work. “I ponder how I should word a castle report to General Forester now that our Queen has given up swordplay.”

“Impa!” I met Anju who nervously shrugged from across the table.

As much as I hated it, Link didn’t need another disappointment. No matter how inferior, especially as of late. The supply line had been established by the time any skirmishes began. Though, from the coming reports, it was a project that was started far too late. Our strength out bested Gerudo forces as they were largely unorganized – at first. The following battles showed their adaptiveness and exposed our own faults.

It seemed that no matter how fortified the supply line grew, there would always be an attempted attack. Seasoned travelers were growing rightfully paranoid and provisions couldn’t be sent in large quantities, which burdened both the army and Gerudo Town.

And worse, the usurper was gaining ground.

Refugees were pouring from the Gerudo capital and, to my horror, learned that they attacked groups with small children. In our correspondences, I had to plead with Link to force one of his admirals to send men to sponsor their treks. There wasn’t opposition in his letters, but the strain in sparing troops was evident.

If they take the capital, then it will give reason to fear they will be able to travel north, Link had written. Fierlin has already proposed to establish a temporary camp by the Great Plateau, but I can’t do that to them now. Not this early on.

By them he meant his admirals, his captains, his men. I understood why Whitehurst had stopped me one day in the halls, admitting something he would never tell his counterpart.

“If you ever doubt our choice,” he had said with an uncharacteristically sound smile. “Nathaniel spoke of him several times after he pushed for replacement hearings.”

Urbosa attempted to bait me into swinging blindly again by lightly touching her blade to mine. Instead of loosening myself to anticipate her attacks, I tensed at the threat of suffering another rude smack to my wrist. The sight made her reprimand me.

“Feet parted!” she shouted, swiping at my feet. I gave a pathetic hop out of an irrational fear that my ankles would be cut through. She would never do anything to hurt me and the action was mostly born of annoyance: I haven’t been the ideal student she had been hoping for.

“Truly, Urbosa.” My voice was shaking more than I needed it to. “This is very harsh on a beginner!”

“Forgive me, my Queen,” Urbosa said without a drop of sorrow. Then, she smiled with a measure of mischievous. “Although you did have the advantage of Hyrule’s most renowned swordsman as your knight attendant.”

“Renowned?” I yelped as her sword clashed against mine. She was holding back, I knew, but my arm wavered under the kickback. “I had no idea that standing beside a person warrants a personal gain of their skill.”

Her response was in Gerudo and I paused our circling to process the words. I had been studying the language during my downtime. Since the Gerudo aristocracy was being housed within the castle, there was no shortage of conversation partners. Some words I couldn’t make out yet the little I could made my face catch a rosy red beyond the sweat that caught my forehead.

“That is entirely unwarranted!”

I swung back against her sword with the strength she had been vying for. It made me curse myself when the pride in her face swelled. Urbosa harked out her triumph, “Translate your emotions into force. Even the most beautiful of desert flowers bare thorns.”

A strand of hair had loosened from my braid and in grew matted against my damp forehead. “Some find my words to be prickly, but my bite has no comparison.”

“Depending on your opponent,” Urbosa nodded as I mirrored her footwork. I was a little shaky, my feet stuttering to match her own while keeping in mind where her eyes were. “Words with a sharp tongue can strike deeper than any blade. However, I think we can both agree that action has more immediate results.”

Our sparring went on until my muscles trembled and the soles of my feet were sore. We weren’t alone either. The notion of a group of noblewomen seeking solitude amidst wartime was laughable at best, outright reckless at worse. The ten men that surrounded us were once apart of my father’s personnel, an inner circle of knights who were both experienced and battle hardened. They were at ease, much to my preference, taking turns scouting the area and sharing a basket of foodstuffs. At one point I had suggested they be allowed to join in the war effort but I was told that my general wouldn’t even entertain the notion when it presented itself.

Still, I did my best to converse with those within the King’s Guard (a name I hadn’t had the energy to bother with changing). They were typically older men with families of their own presiding within the capital; each a story of their own that I would think of in the night when news trickled in riddled with death and carnage.

The victories, despite being so sparse, hadn’t allowed me any reprieve. My whereabouts were a constant reminder of my privileges, luxuries I didn’t feel fit for. Guilt – or was it shame? – made a home in the back of my mind when I would yearn for more than what my power could afford. As with my materials, I was rich in company to dine with. Platters that would never grow scant and goblets that would never run dry.

My father, Impa, Urbosa, and an army of advisors were dazzled by my smiles and ability to save face in adversary. There would always be those against war and my court was not without; all I could do was take it in strides with each evening I entertained the court.

“Any news?” I said to Impa as I maintained a neutral expression. Courtiers twirled about the floor, most were newly returned from the summer harvests and ready to gain favor with their still-new Queen. Little factions of particular lords and ladies clung to the borders of the throne room, gossiping or scheming, I couldn’t tell. But, really, was there a difference?

It almost made me regret not socializing with these people in my youth. Not that Father would permit such free time.

Without turning my head, I heard her make a noise of acknowledgment. “Nothing of consequence, dear.”

Exhaustion was heavy in her murmur. The real question was if that exhaustion was born of current events and from me. I kept the inquiry on my tongue.

“If there is,” I kept my voice low. “Please send them to my room.”

She didn’t need to respond. I stood, acting indifferent to the hundreds of eyes watching me and made my own way to the door. The upside to power was the lack of need to request an exit. Outside the doors was a man of the Knight’s Guard taking leave of another who he was talking to. I nearly felt bad for abruptly ending their conversation.

The knight bowed to someone behind me and Urbosa made herself known in a formal Gerudo fitting; glittering gold that would look odd on anyone that wasn’t her.

“Do you need accompaniment?”

I didn’t need to downplay the tiredness in my movements for her. “No, enjoy the reveling without me. I know how much you like the festivities and all too well of our aristocratic visitor’s tendencies to celebrate nothing until dawn.”

There was a critical look in her eye before it fell to a degree of understanding. We bid one another an uneventful goodnight with a short hug and I made my way towards the spiraling staircases without a care if there was anyone following.

My rooms were a bit tidier than I had left them. The bed was made with fresh linen and my night dress was spread over the covers neatly. Silently, I thanked myself for having Anju teach me how to lace a front-facing corset and let the drapes of fabric fall around my feet. Not long after, I was between the covers already half-way into sleep.

My mind clung onto the little consciousness I had left and I began to feel as if I were missing something. I tensed, the attempt to fall asleep slightly dashed.

He’s not here, I told myself, he’s not here and there is nothing I can do in this moment nor the next. The thought swirled like a mantra, but even then the coldness of the pillow beside me left no aid. A silly notion to miss a moment you felt only once in your life.

Step… two-three. Step.. two-three. Step… two-three.

A waltz, or at least a whisper of one, danced through me and into the movements that were both mine and not. My recollection didn’t come from seeing but knowing that I was in the throne room. It was much different from tonight, emptied and desolate.

“Do I humor you?”

The man with striking eyes was here, the charm of before now replaced with an intimidating seriousness. I wanted to spit venom at this nightmare and tell him he hadn’t broken me after all, but just like last time I wasn’t here to do that. His gaze was glowering, heated with all intentions that dream me ignored.

We took a turn about the room. I tilted my head and blinked up at him, “Only in the ways you hate.”

The words were backed by the knowledge of who he was. Knowledge I desperately tried to learn as I searched his vague outline.

Who are you? Tell me.

There was little response to my utterance aside from the slight pressure on my waist, which only caused a smile to form on my lips – barely there at all. I was teasing.

The pressure disappeared instantly. “You have met him.”

I watched him carefully now, feeling suspicious of his tone.

“We will always meet.”

The man’s chest heaved in laughter. “Yes,” he harked, “Indeed we will, but that was not in the way you and I shall. Never in the manner that he dallies in. We have an… inclination to put aside petty discrepancies, wouldn’t you agree?”

Confusion soured me. It was odd to feel like a third wheel in a conversation I was meant to be partaking in. Words bubbled in my chest yet I seemed to decide otherwise. He made a sound.

“Alas, you need not to tell me. Your ways speak clear that the mortal walks in your steps. Worshipping you like the dog you’ve made him.”

“You have come to mock me. Nothing more? As my children starve under your thumb?” I scowled, itching to say more but biting down on my urge. Already, I had said to much.

“Oh, no, my love,” he spat, “I have come to sing you sweet songs of our future.”

Suddenly, I was taken by scenes from far places. The heat was stifling, so hot I could hardly breath under the blaring sun. There was commotion around me and noise of huffing horses as wagons of supplies were being carried away. A quick glance at myself in my night gown said that no one could see me when they walked passed.

I breathed in the dry air, turning when I heard a particular conversation.

“The transport cases are too heavy for the mules to pull at once.”

It came from a large tent, the opening flap fluttering in a breeze that was just as hot as the air around it. This was unmistakably the Gerudo Desert and my chest grew wanton at the thought of who was inside. The business around me toned down and I took my first steps towards the tent.

My breath rattled uneven in my chest as my thoughts were spoken without the shapes of my lips.

“Why are you showing me this?”

Soft dissuasions beat vaguely against my urge to continue on, but my newfound control of my body and piqued curiosity were overwhelming. I pushed back the tent opening to see a dimmer setting. Light filtered through the canvas and persisted enough to void the need for lanterns. A large table sat in the middle of the space, littered with books and loose papers. Unpacked boxes coincided with the miscellaneous items and at the table, bending over to speak, was a man in uniform.

However, I didn’t pay much attention to him. The one in the chair held me rapt. I was unable to feel the carpet under my feet as I walked further within the tent, not particularly caring about much else.

“Then let’s pull them one by one.”

He was seated with his back to me and now I could make out the unmistakable wheat-blond hair. The man, officer, he spoke to sagged slightly in posture. “But, sir, by then-”

“Burn them,” my general said chastely, “Unless you plan to leave them as a gift to the our Gerudo friends, we either take our supplies with us or burn it. I have no intention of assisting in even the smallest stick of firewood. Is that clear, Captain?”

The tone he employed was foreign to me. Link sat up, looking at him where I could a glimpse of his side profile. My heart ached in a way I hadn’t expected. The man gave a silent sigh.

“Yes sir.”

Without another word, the captain stood straight and walked by me without an ounce of awareness. I swallowed, watching Link lean over what he was working on. Warily, I approached him and studied the way his appearance had changed.

How many months has it been already? Four, almost five months since his departure.

More importantly, how was this possible?

His hair was hardly tamed and seemed to had been shorn with a blunt tool – probably a knife. Ruminants from the vast sands clung from his cheeks to his hands, a testament to his time out here. It was obvious that he wasn’t happy and studied the pages of a book with heavy eyes that hadn’t closed for sleep in far longer than I cared to examine. One of his hands thumbed the next page while the other braced the side of his face as he slumped over the table, a straight seat long abandoned after the captain left.

Link looked far older than he was.

I watched his eyes skim the words and whispered uselessly, “I wish I could help you.”

Blue eyes wandered astray in my direction. I thought they would see right through me as all the others but instead…

“Zelda?”

A breath caught in my throat as his expression of distress morphed from shock to disbelief to a certain relief. “Goddess, Zelda… what are you… what are you doing here?”

Link stood to his full height, clad in uniform and every emotion flashing over him.

“This is a dream,” I immediately said, staggering back. His confusion followed me.

“What do you mean?”

He began taking steps toward me.

“This is a dream,” I repeated, this time more persistent.

It barely occurred to me that we weren’t in the tent anymore. We weren’t anywhere. Link didn’t seem to care. He smiled, reaching towards me.

“I don’t understand,” he shook his head. “I don’t understand, but I don’t have to. I missed you, Zelda. More than anything.”

Link’s eyes held an adoration that I had always yearned for… and yet it was out of place. His hands shook as they closed around my shoulders. “I thought about you every night, Zelda. I crave only you and your light. Your love and pity. I have prayed for a moment like this and here you are!”

“Link-”

“Don’t you get it?” his volume raised sharply. “I do this all for you. I slave for you, I plead for you, I kill for you!”

Then a sickening wet sound cut through his speech. He looked down first and I followed to where his gaze stopped.

Red coated his uniform, staining the midnight blue darker around the tear. Protruding from his abdomen was a silver blade tinged in his blood. I think I might have screamed. He looked back up at me with blank eyes and made a choking sound. Link’s lips formed a word.

I wasn’t in a tent with my dying general. I wasn’t anywhere, but I could still see the image of him dying in my arms with overpouring blood running from his stomach. I wanted to scream. I wanted to sob. Only tears ran from my eyes as the man of my nightmares swung me through our dance.

“A reminder of what I’ve done in the past. A warning of what I’ll do in the future.”

 ---

I had awoken in a sheet of sweat and tears. My throat was scratchy from the sobs of my sleep and I didn’t move to begin my day immediately. I spent the early morning hours curled in a ball on my bed without the energy to cry more nor the exhaustion to fall back to slumber.

Anju found me staring into the shadows of my room and decided to fetch my breakfast from the kitchen for me. While she sat with me, stirring a cup of strong tea in her hands, I didn’t talk about my dream and allowed her to tell me all the silly rumors the castle maids push around. Gratefulness ebbed at me with every smile she pulled from my lips. I still don’t think I deserve her loyalty and friendship.

“Any decent ones about me?”

She took a long sip of her tea, rolling her eyes. “Some ladies of the court fancy a royal wedding. They don’t have much care for wars.”

I hummed my understanding and took my time spreading strawberry jam on toast. “Predictable. I don’t blame them for looking for distraction. I’m sure the bordering lands have heightened concerns with quartering troops.”

My maid paused. “Quartering troops?”

I blinked. It was a dream, I thought harshly. It was a dream and nothing more. Why am I scaring her by thinking it was true?

“I meant for the injured,” I mended hastily. “Transport isn’t so secure until you cross Lake Hylia and some feel more comfortable healing in the towns than traveling all the way here.”

“Ah,” she nodded, “I suppose they aren’t as patriotic as I thought. I get it, though, I would be uncomfortable by the idea too. You know how Kafei and my father feel about taking holiday away from here.”

I breathed a breath of relief.

The remainder of the morning went without a hitch. I hadn’t received any intel overnight and despite my increased pestering, my inbox lacked anything regarding the war to the southwest. It seemed that my mind had fled any sense of reason regarding the mythos of premonitions. I jumped at any counsel about the conflict or how Admiral Byron’s spies should proceed.

I frowned at the sound of another unsuccessful mission. “I want eyes on him.”

“We have been monitoring their encampments for months,” Byron gestured to the war room’s map. “All aspects of their movements are accurate to the square footage.”

Half of the admirals, including Whitehurst and Fierlin, had taken leave early this month while the other end of the cabinet returned to Hyrule Castle.

“That’s not what I meant,” I watched the short man carefully. “General Forester has written that the war prisoners regard him with a reverence of a king. Please recall to me one specification he has recalled for us.”

He rustled through his papers before coming upon one and folded his arms over it. “The one true King of the Gerudo, Your Majesty,” he exhaled, then looked at me with tired eyes. “He is nothing but a usurper, a traitor, of the aristocracy.”

“How am I to react when I have no description of this man? When our men only hear of him as this… fabled legend? I will not accept the prolonging of that,” I sighed. “Do you see where my plight is coming from, Admiral Byron? I realize you’re without a doubt an accomplished man and leader within my army, however this problem still pesters me.”

The man pressed his mouth into a fine line, looking down. “I do. Moving forward I will follow through with this issue and provide you with results. Though I assure you that this Ganondorf is only below you, I will unmask him all the same.”

I bent my head towards him with a smile. “You are will met, sir. Thank you.”

The meeting in the war room was productive and filled appropriate guidelines to send Link’s way. I was pleased to see a familiar face.

“Sir Elian!” I grinned when he approached me after the meeting. “What a pleasant surprise!”

The knight took a short bow with a muddied helmet cradled under the crook of his arm. He must have just arrived in time for the next set of deliverables. I had seen him every now and again lately; his visitations becoming scarce as the war drew on and more precautions were put into place on the road.

“Queen Zelda,” Elian acknowledged kindly. “It seems the news hadn’t arrived yet. I was recently handed down a promotion.”

A conservative smile graced him as he sat on his heels, making the extra stripe on his uniform more pronounced. I clapped my hands together at his bravado.

“My apologies, Captain,” I laughed and voiced my congratulations. He deserved it, after all. There weren’t many that are up to the task of supervising shipments in this climate. “I must attend to Lady Urbosa in the gardens, however you’re more than welcome to accompany me.”

“Why, I could never turn you down,” he acquiesced.

The path from the war room was winding if one wanted to go to the gardens and I was happy to have a companion. I learned from our conversation that the roads were steadily becoming less fraught with ambush but it did little to calm the nerves of anyone who travelled.

“The Rito are slowly warming up to the idea of aerial surveyance. Especially now that we’ve proven to uphold our trade agreements,” I told him. “Their ambassador and Lady Urbosa butt heads constantly during court. It hardly helps.”

Elian chuckled. “I wonder if the threat is the reason why they’re barely trying to thwart us.”

That made me turn to him with concern. “Do you think they monitor that?”

“If the walls have ears, I wonder how they use our secrets?”

I was about to ask him to elaborate when a strangled noise of a shout cut me off. The gardens were around the corner when we heard it.

“Where is she?” a voice boomed down the hall. “Relinquish me and tell me where she is!”

When I realized that Urbosa was shouting over the demanding voice, I gathered my skirts to avoid falling on my face and ignored Elian’s warnings. Once I rounded the corner I saw Lord Ibauna staring down Urbosa’s sword. Guards stood around them, unsure of what to do.

“What is the meaning of this?” I said about their shouting match. Ibauna twisted to me with eyes full of malice.

His fists clenched tightly. “It’s your fault! My brother is dead and it is your fault!”

Lord Ibauna began towards me with a heavy foot, fury red in his face and step. Elian blocked his path with a heavy pull of his sword from its sheath. Two guards wrangled him to a stop before he made it to us and made him kneel. One of the man looked up with question.

“Lady Urbosa?” I asked, looking between her and Ibauna with growing worry.

“He approached me in the gardens looking for you,” she sniffed in his direction, “I wouldn’t tell him where you were because I’ve heard tales of his insolence… then he began insulting your honor, Your Grace.”

“Because you are leading a losing war!” Ibauna yelled, struggling against his binds. “We’re being slaughtered. Don’t pretend, Princess! I have seen the reports and the dead eyes of my family. Give up the aristocracy to Ganondorf!”

I stared, words refusing to surface on my lips.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” a guard said, pulling the lord harshly back to his feet. “We should lead him to the dungeons for his sharp tongue. At your word, of course.”

I pulled at my fingers and couldn’t look away from his anger. Thankfully, my voice found me. “Who is it you speak of? How do you know that name?”

Lord Ibauna seemed to sober up and watched me with suspicion. “Consider it, Zelda. The very basis of this war is within an area that does not affect us. Send the aristocracy back and let them handle their own mess.”

I considered him coldly and nodded at the guards. He struggled against their hold, “I know who you are, girl! You’re meant to be a goddess among men yet you lead us towards tyranny and death!”

His screams haunted down the hall and I startled when Urbosa sheathed her sword. She gave me a look of concern.

“I suppose our teatime is cancelled?”

“Yes, I – um – I feel a little faint and I should retire,” I said, frowning. My mind worked through his words and felt a feeling I hadn’t since I was a girl. An impossible responsibility setting itself on my shoulders. A crown too heavy to bear. I turned to Elian, “I have another message for you if you wouldn’t mind.”

How did he know that name? The same way Link had learned of it?

Lord Ibauna came from money nearly older than the Crown. His silver spoon kept him from any type of military service that may be passed to an ordinary man. Very much like his family, he sought to gain favor in court circles through ways of blackmail and empty promises; a prime example was his attempted seduction of me at the ball. Everything he did was a double edged sword and when his first plan is rejected, another more devious execution settles into place – that being my subsequent judgement from my father.

The only regret I have now was not wearing more rings on my fingers when I hit him.

My hands were shaking when I reached my quarters. Despite my reassurances that I was fine, both the captain and Urbosa followed me. I asked them to wait outside as I scrambled through my desk drawers for my ink pot and pen.

I was going to write to Link to go through with moving resources back behind our lines. If he didn’t want to transition his men there immediately, fine, but I wasn’t about to let pride put anyone at risk. He wasn’t going to be happy… though there would be a good chance he would understand.

A flash of yellow out of the corner of my eye made me freeze. My desk was cluttered already but the yellow yarn was unmistakable. I forced myself to look at the black button eyes and the mouth the formed a slight frown. My mind tried to process when I had taken it from my drawers. Surely, I hadn’t forgotten. In reality, I had gone out of my way not to see it at all and briefly contemplated discarding it. I rose to my feet and swallowed my nerves, almost completely collected when I saw what the doll laid upon.

An envelope, sealed by red wax, was positioned on the side of my desk. It was in a place I knew for certain had been empty this morning.

Tentatively, I skipped the letter opener and ripped an opening with my hands. The doll fell to the floor. My movements were frantic, shaking, as I scanned the words within.

Someone had broken into the castle to place this in my room.

Someone had access to this wing of the grounds and placed this in my room.

Someone had been in my room.

With my introduction having been made, I patiently await yours.

Ganondorf, King of the Gerudo

[kingjaffejoffer]

this really isn’t worth the read

A new Pho restaurant opened up not too far from me, I first went last weekend, but tonight I decided I was gonna go back and have dinner. I smoked in the parking lot and then I went in high as fuck. 

I received my Pho and about 90 seconds into the meal, I realized something. 

[SIDEBAR: My skills with chopsticks are a solid 5 out of 10. Although my standard of living has dramatically improved in adulthood, I still have latent hood nigga abilities and proclivities. My chopstick skills are the equivalent of someone knowing conversational Spanish. You can’t actually speak the language but you can navigate through a city in Mexico if you had to. ]

My old Pho restaurant has forks and chopsticks. But this new Pho restaurant only has chopsticks. 

So under ideal circumstances, Im a 5 out of 10 with chopsticks.

But when I’m high....... as i currently was.... that went down to a 2. Nigga my motor skills were like, “LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I don’t know what to tell you fam”

I’m s k r u g g l i n g eating this bowl of Pho. And I was too prideful to ask the server for a fork, plus I was the only Black person in the entire restaurant and I had to rep for my people. 

I finished 80% of the bowl and was like.... “’Ok thats good enough not to arouse suspicion”. The remaining 20% wasn’t worth the effort.

Anyway, I go to pay for my food and a woman swoops up from the side asking me hella questions like

“How’d you find us?” “Did you like the food?” “Anything we could have done better?” “Are you coming back?”

And she’s like “its your first time?”

and I was like, “No this was my 2nd time here”

She was like “Oh you really like it then!” She literally jumped in the air and clapped when I said that.

And then I realized she was the owner. 

I just thought to myself, “Damn I just really made her day, opening this restaurant was probably a dream of hers and I’m patronizing her shit”

That made me feel better about struggling through that meal. I shoulda told her to put out some forks for the hood niggas.

[danieljamessmith]

Process: Destination and Journey

 Daniel Smith, Billy Prophete, Nicole Manglicmot

INDIVIDUAL BRAINSTORMING - DANIEL’S PROBLEMS:

LA Traffic

Discerning parking while following Navigation

Finding restrooms in public, having foresight into quality

Walking two dog simultaneously

Understanding Nutritional Value of Restaurant Dishes

Protein powder in quicker, more concentrated, portable forms

Time Management / Accountability

Subverting the concept of Fake News, promotion of false stories

Over-reliance on social media for information and validation

Extinction of Australian ‘little brown rat’

Making 2020 candidates’ positions clear, palatable to wider audiences

Holding politicians accountable to campaign promises/stated objectives/general truth

Addition of a citizenship question to the Census

Cost of Healthcare - ambulance rides, medications

California Wildfires

ULTIMATE GROUP SUBJECT CHOICE:

California Wildfires

RATIONALE:

Residing in California for the past 3 years, wildfires have been a persistent news story throughout my daily feed. I’m given steady updates to the destruction, forcing myself to pay attention do to its relevance and proximity. Whether I chose to be or not, I am a part of the conversation around Wildfires. I may not be a firefighter nor an environmental scientist, but I take a personal interest in environmentalism, religiously recycling and composting to minimize my carbon footprint. I pride myself on my ability to research, analyze, and understand scientific material, often reading scientific articles for fun. This problem stems both organically and as a consequence of human (sometimes willful) ignorance. This bleeds into my fascination around politics, especially the current administration’s disavowing of explicit data with global ramifications, directly including these wildfires. I’m a benefit to this group, because I know we have no choice but to find a solution. 

GROUP SUMMARY:

After talking as a group we realized that even though we have no direct involvement with fire safety, we found this topic to be intellectually and emotionally stimulating. Nicole gave reasons for why her skill set would be helpful for the team, Daniel is heavily fascinated by subjects around the potential research, and Billy has expressed interest in the after effects of the fires - displacement and destruction. Collectively as a group, we have the infrastructure for organization fueled by our passion for finding a solution to the ongoing problem.

[indurarinks]

the mardi gras conundrum

( 6. ) In these lands, time was of the essence. The annual festival of New Orleans, Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday), was nearly knocking on their collective doors, and any postponement to their operation could potentially lead to a disastrous fate; the one outcome Acheron and his horde of unruly Dark-Hunters fought against with every breath taken. As the promise of war brewed in plain sight, every wolf, witch and vampire grew restless. Volatile. Inevitably, the inescapable virus of paranoia spread in effective contamination of the mind, robbing every preternatural of simple common sense. The so-called 'free will' slowly became a myth, the Fates' ultimate karmic punchline. Without reason and lagging functionality of intuition, fear rose to rule and in complete submission to it, New Orleans' inhabitants remained on edge, constantly looking over their shoulders in expectation of Death's final kiss. In the throes of famine, Bonnie and the rest sank their teeth into the flesh of troubling doom that hovered over their heads with twisted glee. Its approach rolling onto them in similar tempo to that of Mardi Gras. At dusk, when the skies blended a plethora of shades in different extravagant intensities, Acheron met with the two of them at Kyrian's. He passed an amused grin at Kyrian when Bonnie joined them in his living room, her appearance still unkempt as she had just woken up. “Hello, Bonnie. Nice to see King Hothead over there hasn't scared you away yet. I trust you're up to full speed?” She nodded, halting by Kyrian's side. Natural morning grumpiness transcribed her state of mind while her fingers, plunged into messy curls, began their mission to tame undisciplined hair. “Yes.” Her voice still raspy from the lack of usage after a pleasant night's sleep. Or, more appropriately, day. She scarcely stayed awake through the entirety of the night. “Alright, kids. We have much to discuss, we must devise a strategy to unite all the factions in New Orleans before Mardi Gras. We don't have the luxury of wasting time. The Oracles have been going on and on about an ancient prophecy that will take place during this year's Mardi Gras.” “Let me guess. It went something like this, 'When the skies turn purple, and the earth bleeds in black, all that is will crack. To kill the great evil you seek, you'll have to find something unique.' Or some shit like that. I really hate Oracles. If I wanted to play mind games, I'd buy a Rubik's cube.” Despite the seriousness of their predicament, Bonnie laughed. He spoke in his own dialect of sarcasm with compelling charm. And she could never resist a man that made her laughter spring free so effortlessly. When both men shifted the direction of their collective gazes, training them on her, she nearly fell unconscious underneath their scrutiny in embarrassing desperation. Zipping her lips, she took reign of their previous conversation, steering into the avenue of seriousness. “I'll talk to Klaus today.” She said simply without foreseeing the storm her words would bring about. Minutes stretched into hours as their discussion took a heated turn. And much to Bonnie's chagrin, neither Dark-Hunter seemed willing to stand by her when she suggested she should be the only one approaching Niklaus Mikaelson. “Absolutely not.” A seething Kyrian interjected with unyielding resolution causing her temper to flare in return. She would have appreciated his concern, even teased him as she practically watched steam coming out of his ears and flared nostrils had it not been for blinding exasperation. With a parent's patience, Acheron brought a suggestion to the table where both committed to a compromise, successfully toning down their legendary bullheadedness. Sporting a smug smile, saturated with sheer satisfaction, Bonnie ventured into the Mikaelson's den. In a move that could only be attributed to a politician well versed in the world of argumentative disputes, Bonnie had conceded to bring Acheron and Nick (shame on Kyrian for submitting to the will of a mere plebeian, a man bred into the intricacies of kingdoms and its politics) to a game to wordplay. Kyrian's tempestuous protests still rang in her ears but victory was, ultimately, hers. Her demeanor darkened when Klaus came into view. Arrogance bled from him in his descent from his private chamber to the foyer. Like royalty. A King. And a fraudulent one at that, since no real blue blood run in his veins. “Bonnie Bennett. What a sight for sore eyes. Every time I see you, you look even more stunning.” Indisputable charisma oozed from every pore without effort or thought. It came as naturally as the dimpled smile he threw at her mercilessly. “To what do I owe this pleasure? I see you find yourself in fine company.” “We need to talk.” The urgency in her voice enough to convince him to take the serious route. “Alone.” The last bit came as a surprise to her escorts. Drenched in that cold water she had just poured over their heads, Acheron vehemently disagreed. “I don't think that's wise, Bonnie. Besides, Kyrian will most certainly go into cardiac arrest when he learns of this. What ever have we done to you, woman? You're single-handedly compromising my ability to procreate. Well, not mine. But definitely Nick's. He will have my balls for this.” “Relax, will you? He's not cutting your appendages. Or Nick's.” Nick Gautier had strangely been quiet through the entire interaction and the looming threat and visualization of the loss of his own body parts. Naturally, he chose the poorest moment to speak up. Leave it to the Cajun to be smart mouthed in the most inappropriate situations. “Mais, you best keep him leashed, cher. I ain't gonna die a virgin!” With a shake of head complemented by wicked amusement dancing in her eyes, Bonnie followed Klaus into his private study. Sitting behind a beautifully mahogany carved desk, he invited her to take a seat before him. “And what is it that has Miss Bonnie Bennett scared enough that she would face one of her enemies?” The light of humour did nothing to ease the sudden trepidation closing in on her. “Let's not do this dance and get straight to the point. I know of the war you wage, Klaus. And it needs to stop. You need to stop it. You have no idea of the devils you are welcoming into your midst if you don't swallow your damn pride. I came here, in good faith, to warn you of a much bigger predator that will easily have you and the Mikaelson clan destroyed along with every other supernatural creature living in New Orleans. For the sake of the city you claim to love so much, I advise you to heed my warning.” Feral rage spurred the beast within. Glowing yellow eyes threatened her in silence, every drop of venom meant to instill the fear of the gods in her but, despite initial apprehension, Bonnie Bennett was not easily scared, especially when the devil was one she had experience dealing with. Features untainted by any traces of the wraith of terror, her back leaned against the cushioned wood from the chair as her hands remained rested upon her knees. “You done?”

Aware of the potentially dangerous predicament she had brought upon herself, her eyebrows rose in curious, slightly condescending, inquiry. But even the devil knew which battles to pick from, and Klaus' mind offered him the memory of Bonnie Bennett standing above him, in her literal and metaphorical superiority —effortless regality bleeding from her, while he lied on the ground, squirming in lifetime's worth of pain. His primal instincts kicked into gear, taming the hungry urge to strike before further onslaught. A rare occurrence for a creature infamous for his beastly tendencies. Then, he stood and offered his hand to her. “Walk with me.” Side by side, the both of them navigated through the busy streets of New Orleans, consumed in somber topic that had brought her here as they threw valid argument after tenacious argument in a power display. Yet Bonnie's main concern never deviated from the city's wellbeing and its inhabitants. “Dammit, Klaus. Can't you see?” Frustration clawed at her, pushing her into the sea of near desperation to will this obstinate creature to recognize the evil lurking about. “This thirst for power will lead you nowhere if everyone is dead. Will you risk your family? I have seen these Daimons up and close and their tactics don't come with failure. They are highly trained and prepared for every scenario. Only these hunters, the Dark-Hunters, have the skills to fight them! You can't be this stupidly blind.” With a grunt, her foot slapped the ground beneath it as she folded her arms in supplicant comprehension. “At least say you'll attend this meeting the guys and I are organizing. If coalition between every faction fails, I'm afraid you're all condemned to a dark fate. Myself included, since I've stumbled into this.” Klaus' hybrid nature fed him with the same strange sense of obligation radiating off of the little witch, adamantly bewitching into agreeing to her terms. A newfound appreciation for the woman came into being, ancient wisdom complimented her every word as she presented her case. But he had another to worry about —his unborn child. A creature wrapped in innocence, unprepared for the vile world that would welcome him/her. And like any wolf expecting a cub, the urge to protect his offspring rose above any and all other priorities. In blinding urgency. He recognized the peril behind the loss of sight for other matters. “I hear you, Miss Bennett. But there is one thing that has escaped your knowledge. Hayley Marshall is carrying my child.” The drop of that bomb silenced her as every thread of thought forced itself into conjuring all explanations that could verify his claim. And as a Nature's servant, keeper of the power's balance, there was only one interpretation left. “You're innately a wolf. And wolves can procreate...” She mumbled, half awed, half terrified of the meaning behind the creation of this particular Nature's loophole. “It seems that is the most acceptable and valid explanation for this special child.” And for the first time, Bonnie understood. Her own drive to protect her loved ones brought her into dark roads more often than she could count. How could she judge a father for his instinct to protect his child? Even if blinded and imprisoned by paranoia's hands? Shit. No. Double shit. If she had doubts about her ability to convince him before, she definitely wasn't going to succeed now. “And these creatures you speak of are the least of my concerns for the time being, dearest Bonnie. There is one foe who lurks, her eyes set on my child. And I will not have her take my child from our arms over a bargain made thousands of years ago by my foolish mother.” Their escape from the Mikaelson's compound had been, without a doubt, monitored by the ever enigmatic Acheron Parthenopaeus who stood at the main entrance, large arms crossed over his chest. His eyes hidden behind the impenetrable black of unremovable sunglasses, he reminded her of a professional body guard whose job forbid any form of entertainment or exhibition of emotions. The ghost-like fury she sensed didn't rise from unfounded assumption though. It embraced her in a hold that nearly drove her to hide behind Rebekah as she joined the assembled group, flaunting a radiance that reflected the beams of sunlight kissing beautiful tresses that fell over her shoulders with elegant fashion. The two of them found themselves surrounded by Bonnie's chosen companions and Klaus' most trusted siblings. Elijah followed Rebekah with a very pregnant Hayley trailing behind him. Finally, another ventured toward their group, her gait unsteady as if testing the waters on whether she would be welcomed or not. Bonnie grew curious of her but the sight of Hayley's extended belly robbed her focus from the newcomer to the child unborn. “Holy gods. It is true...” Words fell in whispering tones, surprising herself and those who guarded the newest addiction to their family. Nick scratched the back of his head, awkwardly. Acheron studied the scene unfolding before him. And Bonnie ran her fingers through her hair, to hide the minor tremble she felt brewing. “Klaus, I—. . .” He interrupted her. “I will put into consideration your warnings and worries, give it some thought and send you word on my final decision.” The proposition hadn't been the one she was looking for initially but the scales had undergone dramatic change. And for the time being, Bonnie and the others found their hands tied on the Mikaelson's end. Now, to bring the wolves and witches to the table, Bonnie held the belief it wouldn't be as tough of a task. With subtle inclination of her head, silent agreement exchanged between the two as Bonnie bid the whole of the Mikaelson clan adieu before vacating the premises with both Nick and Acheron guarding her flanks. Negotiations stretched time from just several days to a few weeks, culminating in a couple of months. Witches, stubborn in spirit, refused to sit with the wolf and vampire respective brethren. Vampires clung to their vanity and greed for power and dominion over those they believed to be the lesser beings. And wolves thought only of their pride and animal-like characteristics that differentiated them from humanity's infections, schemes bred from purest evil as jealousy and unchanging greed fomented such deviations from the righteous path. Bonnie's fist grazed Kyrian's cheek. “Unpredictability is your biggest ally in a fight. Daimons are quick studies, your tactic must be one ever-changing.” Beads of sweat trickled down from all over her body. Forehead, neck, chest, back. His gaze trained on a particular droplet rolling down into the obscurity of the valley of her breasts, the trained warrior licked his lips subconsciously. Her heart strained to even its rhythm but to no avail. Confined to Kyrian's gymnasium, the both of them danced around one another in a game of opportunity and educational battle skills that she implored he taught her. Their routine had begun weeks prior when she stumbled into him training by himself. “Watch your left flank, Bonnie. Remember to stay alert at all times. Maintain your body weight balanced between your feet, you don't want to lose it as an enemy collides with you.” She nodded, taking note of every piece of advice, criticism. The ancient Commander taunted his disciple with methodically delivered blows that had her stretching, bending and maneuvering her body to his heart's content. And cock's. He just couldn't contain his insatiable hunger for a taste of exotic flesh that promised heavenly pleasure. But shame refused to take residence in him. Tugging two wooden practice swords off the wall, he quickly tossed one her way to commence their next round of physical sparring. The plan was simple. First, he would indulge her in a match of clashing swords, bringing added stamina into their combat to drain her faster. “What did Rosa put in your breakfast today?” Bonnie asked with a grunt whilst struggling to deflect every blow dealt. Inwardly, he smirked. For him, magic exuded from her dance of spontaneous movements that brought the wood of her practice sword into collision with his. Natural twirls guided her lithe body, her arms floating with regal grace as she lifted her weapon for her defense. But she didn't stop there. Bonnie Bennett held the stance of a warrior bred in long abandoned ranks of old war soldiers. When opportunity presented its hand to her, there was no hesitation to take it. Her attack was a thing of lethal beauty. But Kyrian hid a few tricks up his sleeve. Years past in the battlefields of political and territorial wars had educated him on the dirtiest manoeuvres only veteran soldiers specialized in. She didn't even see it coming. And with inhuman speed, he rolled his dice and played his cards. The right ones. No mistakes allowed. Nurturing her confidence, it wasn't too long until her tactic painted strokes of enthusiastic boldness in the canvas of momentary exhilaration. In the midst of her euphoric victory, as she gained advantage over her worthy opponent, the old dog of war bared his teeth in playful revelation of his trickery. With a single blow, dealt with impeccable precision, bleeding the authority a Commander was expected to, his sword brought loss of her equilibrium. She stumbled to the padded floor, landing on her back. He followed, not even a heartbeat later. The crooked grin on his lips brought a smile to hers as he hovered over her, both drenched in sweat. Accommodating his body to female curves, Kyrian rarely shied away from burning desires. Through his shorts, his erection spiked Bonnie's own lustful cravings. As her heart sped up into violent tempo, the flames of infernal hunger lick her soul in simultaneous guidance of her hands as fingers fondle that tawny skin that she swore was made to be licked, every inch tasted. This dance between them had its birth early on. From the very beginning, both gravitated toward one another, drowning in a river of lust neither could quite comprehend. It drove them to madness boulevard with its scorching want, a desire left incomplete in the hands of initial attraction. But completion slapped the both of them with soulful stirrings in the graveyard of pieces of broken hearts. His kiss came without surprise. It had been long since they last walked on eggshells around each other, and familiarized with the presence of the other, new routines stumbled into their days. Silent affections exchanged. Ardently, soft lips secured hers in passionate resonance of a forbidden affair. Time, much like everything else, faded and lost meaning. The world shrank until only the two of them remained. Bonnie's lungs soon ached from prolonged denial of air, compelling her to drive the frigidity of space between their mouths. Gaze unfocused, inebriation clung to them as she found herself floating in the male scent of him. Her lips parted, drawing air into her body. One single thought haunted her. The last of her defenses crumbled beneath the weight of his gaze's intensity, it was too late when realization dropped a bucket of cold reality over her head. And her secret was no more. “I love you.”

[teyandle]

Across the country, May 1st is known as Decision Day because it is the day that most institutions require a student to notify them if they choose to accept their offer of admission. As we have worked through the Spring semester getting closer and closer to May 1st, one of the most important items on our to-do list with the seniors is to conduct what we call Decision Meetings. During these meetings, we speak to our students and their families about their enrollment options, the financial aid packages provided, and any questions on the next steps of their process.

One of the best parts of these meetings is the ability to sit down with our students’ families. We host a parent meeting once a semester and this is usually the only time we have the ability to speak with them outside of small interactions when the students are picked up from the center if they do not drive. However, one obstacle that I’ve faced in creating meaningful interaction in these limited capacities is that many of our students' parents and guardians that come to the center speak English as a second language or primarily speak Spanish. Despite this obstacle, the limited interactions allow for the smallest of small talks, quick smiles, and then waves of goodbyes. Being able to hide behind those sporadic moments has given me the outlet to avoid awkward fumblings with words, the tiptoe of how to speak our thoughts, or even the confrontation of expressing feelings. Initially, I began to think that in these decision meetings I would be forced to run into a brick wall that is a language barrier. Where we would fumble with being able to fully communicate with my students and their families as we cover hefty topics, higher education jargon, and navigating feelings of change and transition. However, as they continue to go on, I have been allowed to see the privilege of connection beyond language.

Communication is at the heart of interpersonal skills. Within this ability to communicate, language gives us a tool to do just that. I’ve been exposed to the Spanish language throughout most of my life in education, but even more recently I’ve been attempting to be more intentional about how I absorb the words and the intent behind them. Though my Spanish speaking ability is extremely limited, I can usually pick apart words and phrases to gain a general understanding of the conversation. I am lucky that my co-worker who supports the Class of 2019 in a full-time capacity identifies as a Latina woman and Spanish was her first language. Her ability to connect with our students and families transcends words, and I’ve seen this in every single decision meeting thus far. Despite my lack of Spanish speaking ability, she’s checked in with me on how we wanted to navigate some of our decision meetings where the families would absolutely rather speak Spanish rather than placate me as the only non-Spanish speaker in the room. We decided that spending time translating back and forth would be just fine to navigate, but it might hinder the natural flow and depths of our conversations. So, we both agreed that if there’s something I don’t understand, or if there is something I want to directly communicate, we can take the time to translate, but we will lead with the assumption that everyone in the room is on the same page.

This was a moment for me to recognize the privilege that I hold in predominantly white spaces where English is a common language. In these spaces with our Spanish speaking families, I needed to check the privilege I held in a communication domain. For us to provide a natural space for them to communicate was incredibly impactful for me. I’ve been able to continually reflect on how empathy transcends a verbal language that we can share. It’s seen in a mother’s demeanor who is nervous for her first child to leave the nest. I’ve had the opportunity to feel the pride a father has expressed in their student for being the first in their family to go to college. We’ve seen brothers and sisters look up to their graduating older sibling with a light of direction, joy, and hope that we can only imagine what transcends beyond all dreams of what the future can be.  

Even selfishly, it’s taught me so much about submerging myself into the things I do not know and to combat the fear of unknowing. Instead of staving off an awkward fumbling of words, I’ve taken it upon myself to not only be more proactive about learning another language, but to share intangible interactions of eye contact, a hug, or even a nod of reassurance. I continue to think about what Charlene Carruthers told us in her keynote speech a few weeks back. Our collective liberation is not about building parallels, but it is about building connections. I’ve been honored to be in a space where interpersonal skills go beyond all soft skills one can learn. I’m privileged to be in a space to go beyond language in efforts to aid our families. I could not do it without the support of Kiara, my other coworkers at the center, and the willingness of our families to come to the table in support of their student.

[sarahburness]

Why Highly Sensitive People Make Amazing Life Partners

“Our relationships are a reflection of the relationship we have with ourselves.” ~Iyanla Vanzant

Looking back at my life I see that all of my romantic relationships up until now suffered because I did not recognize or value my sensitivity.

For much of my life I thought there was something wrong with me. I was too quiet, too shy, not interesting enough in group settings, too easily hurt, too easily overwhelmed and stressed. I judged myself for being irritable when I didn’t feel rested. I was easily bored with surface conversation, and craved deep intimacy, but thought maybe that was silly and unrealistic.

For years, all of this made my love life challenging and downright difficult to navigate.

Though I did find a good match in my first husband, eventually my own self-contempt and inability to accept and honor of my own qualities—the guilt and shame I walked around with much of the time— along with my lack of insight into how to work with my trait, led to my first marriage’s demise.

My ex had the exact same experience within himself (I happen to know this because we are still wonderful friends). As you may have guessed, we’re both highly sensitive people (HSPs).

HSPs often reject themselves, as my ex and I did. When we don’t understand our trait well enough, we tend to not value ourselves.

This not a surprise, really, because our culture doesn’t yet fully recognize and celebrate us for our strengths—it actually does the opposite—so why would we know how to value ourselves?

The heart of most relationship problems for everyone—HSPs and non-HSPs alike—lies in a sense of insufficiency on some level. To have thriving, loving, healthy relationships we need to deeply love and accept ourselves.

It took me some hard lessons and some real courageous work on myself, but now I am so proud of who I am, and my partnership reflects that health. I have a joy-filled, fun, deep, lovingly connected relationship with the man of my dreams.

When I look at what enabled me to feel so sure of myself as a wonderful person and wife, I know the key was learning to see, appreciate, and honor my sensitivity.

Because we HSPs are amazing. We make the very best partners when we take our well-being seriously, rid ourselves of our insecurity, and feel deep down good about ourselves.

I’ve made it my mission to help other HSPs accept and nurture their trait so they can have the relationship they really want. I want you to see your own value and beauty!

Here are some of the many ways you make an amazing partner, when you are healthy, centered, and honor your trait:

~You are naturally conscientious, compassionate, and very caring, so you are great at being supportive or loving when your partner needs it. You want the best for them. They feel and appreciate this.

~You are aware of your partner’s feelings and subtly attuned to what they’re experiencing (almost as if you can read their mind, sometimes before they can!). You easily pick up on their subtle cues, which helps them feel understood and cared for. With good skills in place, this ability can also help de-escalate conflict quickly, keeping your relationship harmonious.

~You see the best in others, even the subtle beauty and goodness that others easily miss, and you believe in that part of them strongly. Because of this you can draw out your partner’s gifts and be a great source of confidence building and affirmation for them. They will feel very loved.

~Your love of meaning and beauty in all forms enriches your partner’s life. You point out and expose them to beauty and depth they may have missed otherwise (including their own inner beauty).

~You are loyal, great at listening, creative, and dynamic. You are complex. This makes you a fascinating and safe person to spend one’s life with.

~You experience love and joy intensely, as well as other positive emotions. You are full of life and share that with your partner.

~You are a loving, calming, grounding presence. You emanate this to your partner and it nourishes them.

~Though it can take a long time to make choices, you are so thorough and intuitive, when you finally do reach a decision it’s usually a good one that benefits both you and your partner.

~You reflect and work things out inside yourself at length. This can lead to great self-awareness, which can enhance your ability to grow and flourish in your relationship, especially as you learn to be honest and open with your partner.

~You like to process what’s going on in your relationship and get to the heart of the matter with your partner, which you do well because you are deeply insightful. This helps you both better understand yourselves and your relationship.

~You have a knack for seeing the big picture—all sides of the coin. This gives you strength and perseverance to work through things when relationship challenges arise.

~You thrive on depth and complexity. In a love relationship this means you will be dedicated and willing to work hard at creating truly meaningful connection, making it more likely to have a rich and healthy committed relationship!

See how amazing you are? I could go on and on…

You really are worth celebrating and loving deeply. Right now, pause for a moment and just take that in. Let it fill you with a sense of pride. Let it touch and start to wash away old pains of not being good enough.

It’s essential to believe in ourselves. We must do this so thoroughly that we can honestly look at and accept the less ideal parts of our trait, as well. From there we can muster the courage and commitment to address those more challenging aspects and work with them wisely.

Otherwise, we risk bringing out our worst side: someone who can be grumpy, judgmental, intolerant, demanding, anxiety riddled, resentful, picky, needy—someone our partner needs to walk on eggshells around, which is a death sentence for intimacy.

When we do honor and manage it well, we show up beautifully.

I interviewed my husband one day about what he loves about me. As you see, most of what he said has a big connection to my sensitivity:

“With you I feel so cared for, seen, and loved for who I am. I feel you really get me. You are so kind, loving, and caring; you sparkle with life. You are so compassionate.  I’m in awe about how deep we can go in conversation and how in tune we can feel. Life is so meaningful with you, and being with you makes me not just want to grow into a better and better person, but to really do what it takes to actually do so.”

I feel so much love. The tenacity and effort it took to get here was more than worth it. I would do it over and over if I needed to. Because, as an HSP, being in such a flourishing, deeply loving relationship is so fulfilling.

About Hannah Brooks

Hannah Brooks is a Relationship Coach who helps caring, sensitive, deep-feeling women create the supportive, loving, and genuinely connected relationship they really want with their partner. For further tips and guidance check our her free toolkit, 3 Essential Steps to a More Loving Relationship, Even When You Feel Irritable, Resentful, or Disconnected. Find her at lifeisworthliving.com or join her free Facebook group.

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[ztafraternity]

5 Ways Being an LC Changed Me

By Jessie Barton, 2017–2019 Leadership Consultant

I joined team #ZTALC in July 2017. When I reflect on who I was then compared to who I am now, I am so thankful for the ways this position has enriched my life. Things constantly change on the road, and I want to share some fun ways I’ve changed since my first day of training at Zeta Tau Alpha International Office.

1. I’ve cultivated my creative problem-solving abilities.

Do you know how to prepare an interview committee? Do you know how many Chick-Fil-A nugget trays you need to feed 200 women? Do you know how to file expenses? Coordinate a meeting between professional and social organizations? Build a castle out of cardboard? I didn’t. But after 16 months on the road, I can add all those things to my list of acquired skills. I can figure out how to do anything, basically.

2. It doesn’t feel as weird to make friends with strangers.

I promise I’m not just hanging out with strangers, Mom! (But I kind of am.) Each visit, I meet new ZTA sisters from across the country. I’ve left universities feeling like I’ve known my sisters there for years rather than for just the four days I was in town. That’s spilled over into my life outside of ZTA as well. I’m much more likely to strike up conversations with people walking around campus or standing in line at a coffee shop, which is so fun! #YesNewFriends

3. Speaking of coffee, I drink it now.

Before becoming a consultant, I never drank coffee. Life on the road takes you to some pretty Instagram-worthy coffee shops, though, so I had to indulge. I love visiting THE place for coffee in any college town. Small Americano, no cream, for me, please!

4. I’ve found those things that I love.

Over the last year and a half, I’ve had some time to really get to know myself. I found out that although they’re hip, I don’t really like boutique cupcakes, but I do love the band Cake. I know running gets my creative juices flowing and that I might not notice if I never sit in front of a television again. I’m surrounded by others often, but I take pride in knowing that when I’m not, I know exactly how to relax and do the things that make me happy. 

5. I gained confidence in navigating the unknown.

You know that question that makes the whole room go silent? Yeah, you know the one. “What are you going to do after you graduate?” Your heart pounds as you question every life decision you’ve made up to this point, wondering how a 20-something-year-old can be expected to know what they want to be when they grow up. As a Leadership Consultant, every day and every week is vastly different; I never know what I’ll be doing on my next visit. I feel comfy in that space now. I’ve had a lot of practice not knowing what is coming next, and I truly believe that has prepared me for my next venture.

Because I took the leap to apply to be a Zeta Tau Alpha Leadership Consultant two years ago, I gained experience in a variety of areas that I could not have tackled in just one year after college by doing any other job. I love seeing the progress chapters make while I visit, but I am also so thankful for how rewarding this experience has been for my own personal growth. I’m thrilled to take these new skills on my next career endeavor!

---

ZTA Leadership Consultant applications are open Nov. 1-Dec. 1, 2018. To learn more and apply, click here.

[wayneschutt]

Best Practices for Including Infographics in Your Blog Posts

I didn’t know much about infographics, including why they were valuable and how to best use them in my blog posts and on social media until I started reading fellow pet blogger’s sites. The content was phenomenal, but I found myself zeroing in on the infographic they included. The image was like the cliff’s notes of the entire post, except I didn’t feel like I was cheating on an assignment! Instead, I felt compelled to act and wound up sharing the image with my followers.

So, what are the essential things you should know about how to create, integrate and share these useful tools? This post will help to walk through some key elements that are associated with optimizing infographics.

What’s an Infographic?

There are different variations of infographics, each with their own value for use.  In short, they are visual representations of the information included in the post you’re writing.  For example, if you’re writing about signs your dog may be exhibiting that he’s stressed, instead of simply using the term “whale eye,” you can include an infographic that depicts different signs of stress, including whale eye. The infographic could be an easier way for the reader to process the information, especially if they’re a visual learner.

There are tons of ways to structure your infographics; I’ve seen infographics that provide impactful statistics with corresponding images, graphs that illustrate a point, short statements partnered with a graphic and some with just images and no text. One way isn’t technically better than another and you can switch up the format depending on the content you are writing about.

When Should You Use an Infographic?

There’s no right or wrong. The question you should ask yourself when considering using an infographic is “does a visual representation of this information add to the value of this post?”  There are times when it may not.

If I’m writing a personal story about the first day I brought my dog home, sharing photos of her in her new space makes sense, an infographic does not. Conversely, if I was sharing an educational post on the top five things to plan for when bringing a dog home for their first day, a visual depiction of this information would add substance to the post.

Posts that include educational information, an attempt to persuade the reader, descriptions of information, like a DIY, are all times when an infographic may make sense.

Do You Have to Make Your Own Infographic?

Not necessarily. I’m not a graphic designer, nor am I skilled at illustration. I often find myself limited by my lack of ability in this area. That said, there are some great infographics that already exist that you may be able to integrate into your post. Type your subject into a search and see if other images come up.

WARNING: First, make sure you have permission from the person who created the image to use in your post. Second, make sure the content is accurate. I’ve seen a lot of posts on Pinterest talking about “safe human medications to give dogs,” and some incorrectly share drugs that should not be administered without, at the very least, conferring with a veterinary professional.

How Do You Make an Infographic?

I have successfully created an infographic, without any graphic design experience. In fact, I found the experience so rewarding, I kicked myself for avoiding making one sooner!

There are a variety of tools you can use to create an infographic without much strife.  The tool I find myself using most often is Canva. One of the main reasons why I’ve gravitated to this medium is that I can create images on a computer and my phone, which means I am not restricted by lack of access.  I also like this platform because they have an infographic option already created, which is sized for optimizing in social sharing, particularly Pinterest.

If you would rather use another platforms, the world is your oyster.  I typed into a search bar “tools to make Infographics,” and was greeted with tons of free and paid options to choose from. There will be a learning curve for any option you choose, so make sure you give yourself some time to navigate the options and feel comfortable with using them.

Once you’ve determined your platform, it’s time to start creating your infographic. I find it helpful to map out what I’m hoping to convey on a piece of paper first. Just like mapping an outline for a piece you’re writing, it helps you to stay on track. As mentioned earlier, it is helpful to brainstorm and determine which type of images are most useful to illustrate the point you are trying to make. Is it a series of statistics? Should you include a relevant graph? Mapping out your content can help you to make that decision.

When creating your infographic, remember the K.I.S. system—Keep It Simple! Make sure the images are easy to see, words are easy to read, and your points are easy to ascertain. Remember, this is a visual that helps to share information, but you’re hoping people are clicking through to read more on your blog. If you give it all away in your infographic, they have no reason to be visiting your site.

However, to be honest, you kind of need to get your hands dirty and play around when making an infographic. Once you do, you’ll realize it’s actually kind of fun to be sharing your information in a different way. If you are new to creating an infographic, it’s always a wise choice to send a draft along to trusted friends who may be able to provide insight on content and layout that you may not have thought of.

Optimizing Your Infographic on Social Channels

When making a post, try to make the key points visible at the top of the infographic. Depending on which social platform you’re sharing images on, the whole image may not be visible. What this means is that you want to make sure that the most compelling information to prompt a click-through to be what’s seen, in order to increase the likelihood of click-throughs and social sharing.

Many people visiting your blog are doing so on their phone or on a tablet, so it’s really important to test out your infographic on both to see how it shows up. I’ve personally clicked away from posts where the infographic was too tiny for me to read on my phone.

While it’s entirely possible for your infographic to be shared on different social channels, the most “visual” of the social channels is Pinterest. Therefore, I recommend focusing on optimizing your image for displaying well on Pinterest. If you are using templates or design resources to help you create your infographic, it will likely already be sized to work well on Pinterest. There is no length limitation on Pinterest, but there is a width restriction, so longer posts are better to create than wide posts.

The keywords you use in your Pinterest description behave like any other SEO search engine, so make sure you’re spending time on crafting it in such a way that your infographic comes up in searches. Once your image is found, make sure your blog name is on the infographic and that it links back to your post to ensure you get traffic to your site. There have been times when my image has been re-shared and is no longer connected to my original post.  I have found this out by doing a google image search of the infographic and seeing where it’s popping up. In those cases, I file a takedown request with Pinterest and they typically remove the imposter shortly after the request is made.

That’s a Wrap

This post has covered a lot of different parts associated with the creation and use of infographics. It’s kind of like the first time you show up at a buffet, and you grab a little bit of everything to see where you’re going to head when it’s time to come back and fill up your plate.

Please post your own best practices and questions so we can help to dive into any of the subjects listed in more detail. If you haven’t created an infographic yet, I hope this post has empowered you to work on making one and sharing it.  We’d love to see your work and I encourage you to post them here or on the BlogPaws social channels.

Bryn Nowell is an award winning lifestyle blogger who curates A Dog Walks into a Bar, which highlights her love for drinking and dogs.  She has been blogging for over three years and prides herself on her visual storytelling.  The focus of her posts and photos are her two Boston Terriers, Bean and Yoda.  Nowell has a Bachelor’s Degree in Public Relations and her Masters in Business Administration with a Marketing concentration from Quinnipiac University.  She has written educational posts regarding business, public relations, and marketing best practices for the BlogPaws network multiple times. 

The post Best Practices for Including Infographics in Your Blog Posts appeared first on BlogPaws.

Best Practices for Including Infographics in Your Blog Posts syndicated from https://thehuntingdogblog.wordpress.com/

[jesicajparksuk]

Best Practices for Including Infographics in Your Blog Posts

I didn’t know much about infographics, including why they were valuable and how to best use them in my blog posts and on social media until I started reading fellow pet blogger’s sites. The content was phenomenal, but I found myself zeroing in on the infographic they included. The image was like the cliff’s notes of the entire post, except I didn’t feel like I was cheating on an assignment! Instead, I felt compelled to act and wound up sharing the image with my followers.

So, what are the essential things you should know about how to create, integrate and share these useful tools? This post will help to walk through some key elements that are associated with optimizing infographics.

What’s an Infographic?

There are different variations of infographics, each with their own value for use.  In short, they are visual representations of the information included in the post you’re writing.  For example, if you’re writing about signs your dog may be exhibiting that he’s stressed, instead of simply using the term “whale eye,” you can include an infographic that depicts different signs of stress, including whale eye. The infographic could be an easier way for the reader to process the information, especially if they’re a visual learner.

There are tons of ways to structure your infographics; I’ve seen infographics that provide impactful statistics with corresponding images, graphs that illustrate a point, short statements partnered with a graphic and some with just images and no text. One way isn’t technically better than another and you can switch up the format depending on the content you are writing about.

When Should You Use an Infographic?

There’s no right or wrong. The question you should ask yourself when considering using an infographic is “does a visual representation of this information add to the value of this post?”  There are times when it may not.

If I’m writing a personal story about the first day I brought my dog home, sharing photos of her in her new space makes sense, an infographic does not. Conversely, if I was sharing an educational post on the top five things to plan for when bringing a dog home for their first day, a visual depiction of this information would add substance to the post.

Posts that include educational information, an attempt to persuade the reader, descriptions of information, like a DIY, are all times when an infographic may make sense.

Do You Have to Make Your Own Infographic?

Not necessarily. I’m not a graphic designer, nor am I skilled at illustration. I often find myself limited by my lack of ability in this area. That said, there are some great infographics that already exist that you may be able to integrate into your post. Type your subject into a search and see if other images come up.

WARNING: First, make sure you have permission from the person who created the image to use in your post. Second, make sure the content is accurate. I’ve seen a lot of posts on Pinterest talking about “safe human medications to give dogs,” and some incorrectly share drugs that should not be administered without, at the very least, conferring with a veterinary professional.

How Do You Make an Infographic?

I have successfully created an infographic, without any graphic design experience. In fact, I found the experience so rewarding, I kicked myself for avoiding making one sooner!

There are a variety of tools you can use to create an infographic without much strife.  The tool I find myself using most often is Canva. One of the main reasons why I’ve gravitated to this medium is that I can create images on a computer and my phone, which means I am not restricted by lack of access.  I also like this platform because they have an infographic option already created, which is sized for optimizing in social sharing, particularly Pinterest.

If you would rather use another platforms, the world is your oyster.  I typed into a search bar “tools to make Infographics,” and was greeted with tons of free and paid options to choose from. There will be a learning curve for any option you choose, so make sure you give yourself some time to navigate the options and feel comfortable with using them.

Once you’ve determined your platform, it’s time to start creating your infographic. I find it helpful to map out what I’m hoping to convey on a piece of paper first. Just like mapping an outline for a piece you’re writing, it helps you to stay on track. As mentioned earlier, it is helpful to brainstorm and determine which type of images are most useful to illustrate the point you are trying to make. Is it a series of statistics? Should you include a relevant graph? Mapping out your content can help you to make that decision.

When creating your infographic, remember the K.I.S. system—Keep It Simple! Make sure the images are easy to see, words are easy to read, and your points are easy to ascertain. Remember, this is a visual that helps to share information, but you’re hoping people are clicking through to read more on your blog. If you give it all away in your infographic, they have no reason to be visiting your site.

However, to be honest, you kind of need to get your hands dirty and play around when making an infographic. Once you do, you’ll realize it’s actually kind of fun to be sharing your information in a different way. If you are new to creating an infographic, it’s always a wise choice to send a draft along to trusted friends who may be able to provide insight on content and layout that you may not have thought of.

Optimizing Your Infographic on Social Channels

When making a post, try to make the key points visible at the top of the infographic. Depending on which social platform you’re sharing images on, the whole image may not be visible. What this means is that you want to make sure that the most compelling information to prompt a click-through to be what’s seen, in order to increase the likelihood of click-throughs and social sharing.

Many people visiting your blog are doing so on their phone or on a tablet, so it’s really important to test out your infographic on both to see how it shows up. I’ve personally clicked away from posts where the infographic was too tiny for me to read on my phone.

While it’s entirely possible for your infographic to be shared on different social channels, the most “visual” of the social channels is Pinterest. Therefore, I recommend focusing on optimizing your image for displaying well on Pinterest. If you are using templates or design resources to help you create your infographic, it will likely already be sized to work well on Pinterest. There is no length limitation on Pinterest, but there is a width restriction, so longer posts are better to create than wide posts.

The keywords you use in your Pinterest description behave like any other SEO search engine, so make sure you’re spending time on crafting it in such a way that your infographic comes up in searches. Once your image is found, make sure your blog name is on the infographic and that it links back to your post to ensure you get traffic to your site. There have been times when my image has been re-shared and is no longer connected to my original post.  I have found this out by doing a google image search of the infographic and seeing where it’s popping up. In those cases, I file a takedown request with Pinterest and they typically remove the imposter shortly after the request is made.

That’s a Wrap

This post has covered a lot of different parts associated with the creation and use of infographics. It’s kind of like the first time you show up at a buffet, and you grab a little bit of everything to see where you’re going to head when it’s time to come back and fill up your plate.

Please post your own best practices and questions so we can help to dive into any of the subjects listed in more detail. If you haven’t created an infographic yet, I hope this post has empowered you to work on making one and sharing it.  We’d love to see your work and I encourage you to post them here or on the BlogPaws social channels.

Bryn Nowell is an award winning lifestyle blogger who curates A Dog Walks into a Bar, which highlights her love for drinking and dogs.  She has been blogging for over three years and prides herself on her visual storytelling.  The focus of her posts and photos are her two Boston Terriers, Bean and Yoda.  Nowell has a Bachelor’s Degree in Public Relations and her Masters in Business Administration with a Marketing concentration from Quinnipiac University.  She has written educational posts regarding business, public relations, and marketing best practices for the BlogPaws network multiple times. 

The post Best Practices for Including Infographics in Your Blog Posts appeared first on BlogPaws.

from News And Updates About Pets http://blogpaws.com/executive-blog/best-practices-for-including-infographics-in-your-blog-posts/

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by Guest Contributor on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: This article was submitted by Tom D. to Pat awhile ago. I am publishing it, with some “military language” edits, since it provides some insights into the reality of military life and some good points for us all to consider. Tom D. – we all thank you for your service.

First things first, I am an active duty soldier in the U.S. Army. I have been in for about ten years and have multiple combat deployments under my belt. I would not call myself an avid prepper (right now), but there is one thing that is always on my mind. SECURITY. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be able to prep as much as possible, but we have unique situation while serving.

Being in the Military really does have its pro’s and con’s when it comes to prepping. The biggest con to me is the fact that we are always moving. I lived in Western Texas for a few years. There, I started adding to my “stash” for desert survival. Both of our kids had walk in closets, and they were too small to walk so my wife and I turned those closets into strongholds for food and water (along with other supplies). We bought a house at the outskirts of the city with a mindset that if TSHTF we could get out fast. Our house was also as far away from Juarez, Mexico as possible while still being in the El Paso city limits. I had a dirt bike and ATV for quick getaways, and knew the lay of the land and how to utilize the wadis (valley, ravine or channel) to my advantage. We had all the fire power we needed, but not too much where we were wasting money on guns. Long story short is, we were moderately prepared. That is, until I got orders to move the family to the Seattle/Tacoma area in Washington state.

After feeling like we would be as good as we could get for TEOTWAWKI (The End of the World as We Know It) in Texas, I showed up here. Washington is an entirely different beast. It rains over half of the year and I am now in a Major Metro Area. I went from my primary concern being an Economic Collapse or Major Terror Attack to now worrying about Mount Rainier deciding to blow. Here in Tacoma we have one major escape route. That is Interstate-5. The issue is that I-5 is a road block now without any sort of emergency. Once TSHTF it will be impossible to go north or south in a vehicle. The ocean to the West and mountains and then high dessert to the east. These are all issues that I need to create new COA’s (course of action) and alternate COA’s to be prepared.

Now that you have seen some of the pain with moving, I will bring up my next Con with being an Active Duty Prepper. DEPLOYMENTS! Many people have a commute of an hour or so on the Civilian side of the house. With us it can be much different. If I am in Afghanistan again when TEOTWAWKI happens, things will be much different. I am a combat arms soldier and have had to fire a weapon at other people before, so that is not the most mind-bending thing for me. The hard thing to consider is my wife and children possibly having to do the things I have done or seen in a combat zone without me. You can train all you want, but will never know how you will react in certain situations until they are staring you in the face.

     No matter where we live, my wife will have weapons at her disposal. She knows how to shoot, and she has supplies. In a world-wide catastrophe, we have to accept that we may never see each other again if I am on the other side of the world. Luckily, we are already prepared for that before any deployment to begin with.

If the power is still on, whether deployed or not I promise each and every one of you reading this that myself and every Soldier I know would go to our families and friends first.

I read an article written by Pat about two years ago that seemed to question what the Military would be willing to do to its own people. My friends and family have asked me similar questions before as well. I am going to explain this to the best of my ability. First off, a lot of people think that every Soldier or Marine is a robot that takes orders and blows stuff up. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Less than 10 percent of the entire Armed Forces is Combat Arms. Everyone else is Support. So, the thought of every able-bodied Soldier coming to private residences to kick down doors and take you to FEMA Camps is out of the question.

The topic of Prepping is a conversation that I think I have had on every field problem I have ever been on in the Army. Most of the soldiers I know do not have caches of goods prepared for when TSHTF. Nearly all of them do have a plan for when it does happen. Most soldiers are prepared to fight whoever and whatever is out there if they have to. If you are in the Military, it is easy to get your Subordinates to form a team for such scenarios. It is also great for Unit cohesion. In Texas, my house was the Rally Point for my team. We had weapons and defense measures prepared and available to last a hot minute. The best part of our plan was that every member of “my Team” was trained and proficient in soldier skills. Every one of them had been through medical training, knows land navigation and had access to vehicles with GPS capabilities that would track every vehicle we had if necessary. We had been through hard times together and know how to handle each other when it got tough.

Sure, we were not the most organized group with lots of land for farming and honestly were not prepared for a kind transition. We were a group of grunts ready to fight our way through what we had to in order to survive. I have learned that Security is always #1 while serving. It is that way in combat, and it is that way when I go to bed at night. So why would it ever be anything different for TEOTWAWKI.

The one thing that has always been the general consensus was that if anybody gave us orders to turn on our own people, we would all refuse. Most people that join the Military do it out of pride for their Nation and families. There might be ones and two who want to follow along with some plan to implement Martial Law, but I will gladly say that the clear majority of us would be getting home to our families at the same time and be ready to fight the “bad guys.”

  The post A Soldiers Experience appeared first on The Prepper Journal.

from The Prepper Journal Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag