#I was watering David and realized some of his dirt was disturbed

[gaylittleguys]

oh my god………. welcome baby Sunny to the world 💕🎉🥺

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Sign of Support.”

A lot of you have wanted some sort of update on the LFIL arc. So this one counts sort of as fluff, and sort of as a starting point for finally getting back to this arc. 

Prepare yourself for Adam being awkward lol :) 

It was happening again.

He had expected this sooner rather than later, and it hurt to watch.

He knew, more than anyone that it wasn’t going to work. The GA was full of aliens, not humans. The things that impressed humanity, the things that got humanity’s attention were the same sort of things that tended to scare the GA.

But of course, the average human couldn’t have known that, and with their tendency to change creatures around them to become more human, the aliens with which they worked didn’t see it either.

They were doing the right thing, but going about it the wrong way. 

Still, that didn’t stop his feelings of sadness and empathy for their plight. 

Walking with Sunny, standing on the buddy pegs attached to her back, and examining the protest encampment around him, he couldn’t help but be impressed by their bravery. He knew for a fact that if he was in their shoes, he would be way more likely to hide, lie to everyone around him, and even himself. 

But here they were out in the open, a shining beacon of defiance against the GA.

It was a difficult situation, of course he supported the GA wholeheartedly, and he always would, and with that support came an understanding. But that didn’t mean that he had to agree with them.

They were scared.

And people tend to lash out at things that scare them.

As it turns out, that seemed to be a common factor across the galaxy.

He reached down, hand caressing the tear gas canisters at his belt and the accompanying gas mask. He prayed, just PRAYED that he wouldn’t have to use them, but how was he to know what would happen. When people got righteously angry about something they tended to act up, and when thrown into a group of like-minded people, the pack mentality was overwhelming.

He wanted everything to go well, he wanted them to make their point, to prove that they were the moral superiors, demonstrate to the GA that they weren’t militant, and all they wanted was peace.

That was the sort of thing that would get across to the GA.

But with humans involved…. He didn’t really have much hope.

He glanced around at the assembled tents looking for any sign of trouble.

He didn’t see much, just the limp white flags, with the LFIL logo printed proudly on their front.

Still keeping an eye on his surroundings he leaned against one of Sunny’s shoulders, “So what do you think about this whole thing?”

Sunny turned her head to look at him gold eyes and blue carapace glittering with the yellow sheen of the Rundi sky.

She shrugged, setting him a little off balance. She grabbed his feet to steady him as she continued up a small incline. 

“It doesn't bother me, and I suppose I understand them.”

“Oh?”

“Imagine finding someone you connect with, someone who understands you more than anyone ever has. Imagine a Drev finding the greatest warrior in the galaxy, and then….. Just having to suffer knowing you can never be with them. Granted none of the other species ever would have considered it an option without the humans, but now…. It makes sense. You connect with someone well enough, then beyond that there isn’t much you can do.” 

“I agree with you completely, but let me play devil's advocate for a moment. They aren't even the same species, without the same genetics. It wouldn’t be physically possible to produce a viable offspring.”

She turned her head to look at him, “And how does it work for your brother David and Jordan?”

He laughed, “Ok, ok, poor question.”

“Adoption, a relevant option. Plus, this is coming from the guy who lent his DNA to some alien.”

“Arguably she stole it, but I get your point.”

They turned another corner scanning the crowd, “Hear me out though. Humans are…. Well you know how humans are. They need…. Affection and intimacy….. How does that even…. Work?”

“Oh I am sure some human has found a way, besides, humans and Drev aren’t so different in that regard.”

He tilted his head to look at her, “How the hell do you know that.”

“Got into a discussion with Krill. He thinks it's possible, though he would never tell you humans. He already thinks you do a ton of stupid stuff anyway.”

“Don’t you guys also have a mating season.’

“We did, but it was actually based on the magnetic fluctuation of our planet in time with the seasons. Now that we don’t have that anymore, things are out of whack.”

He grunted, “huh, I didn’t know that.”

“You never asked.” 

“Because that is a totally normal thing to ask someone. Hello my name is Adam, and I am actually very curious about how….. That stuff… works on your planet.”

“That stuff, huh?”

He rolled his eyes, “I was sheltered ok, give me a break.” They came to a stop at a crossroads, and Adam stepped down from her back and onto the dirt tilting his head to listen trying to detect any signs of a disturbance as of yet there was nothing. He turned to the left down another line of tents passing into a more populated area of the protest encampment.

People wearing specially made clothing, with the LFIL logo, shirts, scarves, bandannas, jackets, hats etc. etc. walked about openly with their alien companions, a few even brave enough to show overt affection towards each other.

A human hugging a Tesraki, while another stood on a box to kiss the cheek of their drev partner.

“Now that, is something I couldn’t do.” he said to sunny, walking past.

“Kiss someone/”

“No, Kiss someone two to three feet taller than me. Way too much work.”

“How do you know, maybe climbing up three feet would be worth it.”

Eyes followed them nervously as they walked past, their riot gear marking them as ‘the enemy’. 

“I would rather not be in danger of twisting my ankle every time I wanted to show someone affection, thanks.”

“You twist your ankle anyway.”

“That’s my point. If I twist my ankle now, Imagine what would happen if I had to do acrobatics on a regular basis.” They came to a halt as a group of protesters paraded in front of them holding up picket signs.

 One of the protesters turned to glare at him, “We aren't doing anything illegal.”

Adam held up his hands, “I know. I’m just security to make sure no one gets hurt.’

The other human didn’t seem convinced angrily grabbing their alien companion around the waist before marching off.

The Tesraki looked uncomfortable looking back at them apologetically.

Though tesraki were generally cutthroat businessmen, they tended towards extreme submissiveness in relationships with humans.

Adam stepped through the gap left by the protesters and continued walking.

As they did they early ran into a group of kids selling little white flags and bandannas. They pulled to a halt, eyes widening in surprise and shock. A young Tesraki pulled to a halt with them looking as if he was about to panic and run off.

However, the kid at the front’s eyes widened and a big smile crossed his face,, ‘holy shit! You, I know you!”

Adam smiled, “You do now?”

“Yeah , yeah you’re in that movie. You, you command the UNSC fleet.”

For some reason, that exclamation calmed the other kids, and they squealed, shouting and asking for a picture. Of course he was happy to oblige, posing with them for their pictures. Sunny stood to the side happy to watch though she was dragged in for the next set of pictures once they realized who she was. 

“What are you doing here?” one of them asked glancing down at his clothing. Smile falling, “You…. aren't here to stop us are you?”

Adam shook his head, “No, of course not, protesting isn’t illegal.” He motioned to Sunny with his other hand, “Sunny and I are just here to make sure that you guys stay safe, and that no one gets hurt.’

Sunny nodded.

One of the more skeptical looking teens looked up at him, “How do we know you aren't here to stop us. You work for the GA after all.”

Adam shrugged, “I don’t have much else to prove other than my word.”

The skeptic looked at them, a wicked smile appearing on her face, “I know.” She reached into her cart and pulled out one of the bandannas, “Wear this.”

 It was clear she expected him to balk at the idea, but to her surprise, he smiled, “Alright, sounds reasonable.” he held out his arm, and watched, still smiling as she tied it around his upper arm still glowering at him skeptically, “Think you can spare one for my friend.” He patted Sunny on the arm.

That broke her skepticism, and she smiled openly handing a second one over to him, which he tied around one of Sunny’s upper arms. He waved a goodby to them, and stepped back up onto Sunny’s back walking away with her.

“That was nice of you.”

He shrugged, ‘Not really. I honestly agree with them. The GA has no right to tell them who they can and cannot be with. I know they have some reasons, but I feel like there is a better way of dealing with it.”

Sunny hummed deep in her throat, “Uh-huh, or you really just want a really tall girlfriend.”

He sighed, “Honestly I’d settle for any size girlfriend if I could just talk to her like a normal person without sticking my foot in my mouth.”

“Your incompetence with women is acrobatic.” 

He snorted, “I’m glad you’re impressed.

Together, they continued their slow circle around the encampment drawing suspicious and confused eyes as they went. Sometimes they were recognized, and, occasionally people would ask to take pictures with them, other times, they just wanted to talk.

��The variety of people was… astounding.

A barely five foot human with a nine foot Drev. A group of humans and a group of Tesraki.

A lawyer and a Finnari.

Two couples both as business partners with a Tesraki half.

They were young and old male-female, in all different pairings. Old soldiers, and young students. It was honestly quite stunning.

At one point they stopped off for water and ran into a Massive bodybuilder with his drev, whose carapace at any other time would have marked her as ugly for a Drev. At first Sunny felt bad for her, with her muddy brown carapace, mat without any shine. 

The man turned and handed Adam some water.

Adam raised the bottle, “Thanks.”

The man looked him over eyeing the bandanna around his arm, “Interesting accessories for a GA affiliate.”

“You can work for someone and disagree with them.”

The man laughed, “I suppose that’s true.”

 He greeted Sunny as well who was trying not to stare at the other female Drev for too long lest it seem like she was staring..

He motioned to the arm band, “Supporter, or-” his eyes flicked between Adam and Sunny.

“We’re just here to make sure everyone stays safe.”

Off to the side the mat Drev looked at Sunny, “I’m sorry.”

Sunny glanced over at her nervously, “Sorry for what?”

“You must have been treated poorly on Anum.” 

Sunny shuffled her feet awkwardly, “I was alright.”

“Regardless. I hope things work out for you. The Drev beauty standards are unfair, and things need to change.”

Sunny wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to feel about that.

“They aren't so bad.” she ventured defensively.”

“Then I am sure you are getting combat offers left and right with your coloring.”

Sunny went quiet again . She would have said this was passive aggressive, but the Drev didn’t do passive aggressive, so was this just an open statement about how ugly she was? If that was the case, it kind of hurt.

“I have, because I am an experienced warrior.” Her voice was cold.

“Oh, where is your partner?”

Sunny felt her fists clench, but Adam placed a hand on her arm. She was quiet, “I turned them down.”

That seemed to surprise the female Drev.

The two humans exchanged a look, the way that only humans can, speaking without actually saying anything.

Adam took Sunny by the arm and raised his water at the man, “Good luck to you.”  before turning to walk away.

“I hope you find a battle partner.” the other Drev cut in at the last second.

Adam Squeezed Sunny’s arm tighter, but she turned her head anyway snapping, “I already have.” Before marching off without another word. Adam was forced to scamper after her, his legs much shorter.

“Wow, wow, hold your horses.” 

She finally slowed to a stop still fuming.

“Who the hell does she think she is!”

“Sunny-.”

“Calling me ugly to my face!”

“Sunny-”

“I should have challenged her to a duel right then and there.”

“Sunny!” 

She turned to look at him, “What?”

He climbed back up on her back patting her shoulder, “She was just insecure and jealous.I mean come on, look at you, Blue is the rarest color in the galaxy, and we all know that height is the least important attribute of Drev beauty standards. The better you can fight, the more you make up for it, besides it's not her fault that she can’t accept someone as being valid unless they are in a pair.” 

Sunny grunted.

He frowned, “Speaking of which, coming from her it seems like a double standard. You fight with me, and I’m fucking awesome, so by default you have to be too.”

“Wow Adam, you really know how to make a person feel better.”

“I know.”

They were crossing back to the other side of the encampment, when they ran into some familiar faces.

Ramirez and Maverick appeared from the crowd, waving the two of them down with greeting hands. 

They pulled to a stop, and the Commander motioned to the white bandanna on Ramirez’s arm, “Nice accessories.”

“I like yours too.”

“I didn’t know you were a supporter.”

Ramirez laughed, “Man I am a supporter of whatever the hell people want to do with themselves.”

Off to his side maverick had tied one of the white bandannas to her belt.

“And you.”

“Personally, I don’t give a shit. I don’t even think it should be an issue, but by banning it, the GA created a problem for themselves and took away the freedom of choice for these people. Even if I did disagree with what they are doing, I would still support their ability to make that choice for themselves.” She tugged on the bandanna, “But hey, would I be wearing this otherwise.”

The commander nodded his head surprised and pleased at his men for being so open minded, though he supposed it should make sense. They worked with aliens every day. Where others might have fostered a sense of fear based on unfamiliarity, they had experience.

“Lets just hope this all goes over well tomorrow. I don’t want to have to use any of this.” He motioned down to his gear

The commander sighed.

“Isn’t that the catch 22.”

Loyal to one side sympathetic to the other, and empathetic to both.

He would be relieved when it was finally fixed.

Though how he could help was beyond him. 

[newsies-geek]

Newsies in Quarantine (Javid) Part 1

Idea from @dragonsrrad !!

***

Davey hadn’t exactly been sure how he felt about Jack the first day he met him. One could call many different events having been their “first-time-meeting”.

When Jack had run into him while being chased by the Delancys.

When Davey first stepped foot into the world that was being a Newsie, receiving all sorts of gawky stares from boys who were all dressed in outfits that weren’t as pressed or clean as his.

Or, perhaps, when Jack had bought Davey extra papers, and for the first time, Davey decided to deliberately make eye-contact with the other boy.

Davey recalled every occurrence, but he considered the last one to be the first time he truly met Jack, the first time he really noticed him. He was almost caught off guard, unsure if he should reject or accept the stranger’s kindness, or if he should take it as kindness at all to begin with. His father had taught him to be kind to others, but to also have pride’s in one’s self, resulting in an awkward denial of the papers, that his younger brother had quickly thwarted when becoming sales partners with Jack.

Davey wasn’t sure how he should feel about the wanna-be-cowboy, but he sure knew how he did feel.

Skeptical, seemed to be the most obvious first answer, but keen was a one that rooted deeper within him.

There was something about the way the other boy delivered the way his words, his movements, his smiles, that would sometimes be pointed at Davey in particular.

And by the end of the day, Davey knew he was fond of Jack, of the way he could get out of trouble while still looking out for those around him, his lack of manners that he tried to desperately to make up for in quiet apologies, apologies that weren’t made up in the word sorry, but in more looks and smiles that could take a moment, or a century, to decode.

Davey was certain he could gladly look at Jack’s face for a century if it meant knowing how the other felt all the time.

Jack was expressive but not verbally, any verbal expression he had were words that he had picked up from others, usually from David. But through art, there was no telling what Jack could and would say. His art was so influential and raw that Davey couldn’t help but admire it, which is exactly what he was doing now.

Around half of the Newsies were currently inside Medda’s theatre, having not been able to make it from the last show they’d been watching to the lodging house before the county went on an affective lock-down.

Sickness had been ravishing the town for weeks, but matters to contain it had only been discussed until now.

Davey had begun to momentarily freak out when he heard the news about how they would be forcefully kept within the theatre.

Policemen on horses trotted around tirelessly outside, and David knew his parents would be more upset if he and Les tried to make it home illegally than if they just stayed out. Regardless, this hadn’t help Davey to stay calm much.

The other newsies hadn’t been so affected, Jack hadn’t been there when the announcement was made, too busy back stage painting to be bothered all that much, while the others simply took the news with slight dismay to the fact that they wouldn’t be making money selling papes, which was quickly silenced by Medda’s offer to feed and house the boys seeing as they couldn’t leave.

She’d sent a few of them up into the rafters to look for anything that could he used as a bed, seeing as how she wasn’t going to make them sleep on the floor. They’d sleep on the stage instead.

Davey had begun to hyperventilate at the news that they would be required to stay here. Sarah was at home with his mother and father no doubt, meaning that they were all most likely safe. That helped him a bit. He’d seen Les no more than a second ago before he had excitedly scrambled off with the other newsies, chanting about a sleepover. It helped Davey to know his kid brother wasn’t as phased by this as he was. But even with all of this combined, thw curly-haired boy couldn’t help but focus on the beat of his heart, quick and anxious, thundering from his chest to his toes.

He wasn’t going to see his parents for...how long had Medda said? Two weeks they were to shelter-in-place?

This reminder only made Davey feel sicker as he stumbled to the edge of the stage, leaning all his weight on it to relieve some stress from his body. His parents wouldn’t receive the money he’d made today- nor any of the money he would have made this week.

Would they have enough food?

Could they afford the bills?

What about the water bills? They could last longe without food than without water-

Would they be allowed to leave to get water if they needed it desperately?

Probably- but what if they had to prove it and someone had to come inside and then that person gave the virus to his family and they couldn’t afford the medicine because Davey himself was here with all the money. It would be his fault, no doubt. Even if the back of his mind told him that it was the Virus and not him, it was the front of his mind that Davey was listening to.

He’d have to be stuck with boys who looked like they hadn’t showered in- well, ever. Davey knee they did, despite getting just as much dirt on them, if not more, than they had when they started the day. While their hygiene was questionable, Davey at least knew that it existed, having walked into the lodging house to more than a few boys taking bathes in ice cold water once or twice. The sight had appalled him, but they didn’t seem to bothered, living with tons of other boys around them, they were used to the lack of personal space.

A realization seemed to drop into the pit of Davey’s stomach.

He wouldn’t have personal space now, would he?

Davey clutched at his arms and held them tight to his chest. Don’t presume wrong, Davey was all for physical affection, but it varied. Only with particular people. Les was basically attached to his knees when he got bored and Sarah never stopped fixing his hair. But Davey wasn’t very used to physical contact outside of his family. Well, them and Jack.

Jack was a wonder to Davey in the way that he couldn’t wrap his head around the boy. The dirty-blonde haired boy had practically forced himself into Davey’s life, by word and by action. Constantly, Jack’s arm would find a way over Davey’s shoulder while they were selling. Later in the evenings when only the desperate and the youth were out on the town, Jack would place an arm around Davey’s hips.

The curly-haired brunette wasn’t quite sure what to think about it, all he knew is that Jack’s hand felt different than any hand he had touched before.

Not just in physical texture, rough with calluses from endless work since he’d been old enough to, but also in the feeling of it on Davey’s shoulders, hips, or even his own hand on the occasion that Jack might clasp it, throwing their held hands together in the air as a sign of victory. It was warm, not just Jack’s hand, but the area that it touched. Warm and pleasant, careful and intentional, almost wary of how Davey would react to its placement.

And this thought, is what finally seemed to calm Davey’s mind.

He wasn’t sure where his friend had run off too, and that suddenly seemed to become the most important thing to him at the moment.

Looking around the near empty theatre, other than a sleeping Romeo who leaned against an also sleeping Specs, the boys’ faces having gentle, content smiles, probably from the fact that they could finally relax, what with knowing they’d be well taken care of without having to go outside to work.

It made Davey smile slightly from where he stood. Ah, to find bliss in not having to worry- wish I could relate.

Davey felt as though he always had someone to look after, or to look for- and that person, at the moment, was one Jack Kelly. And he had a good idea of where the boy was. Turning on his heel, and nearly running into the side of the stage before aiming for the stairs that led up to it on either side, Davey made his way to the wings, sidestepping down along the solid concrete wall that made up the back of the stage, using it to guide himself to the backstage door as all the lights were currently off in the wings, due to all present people being up in the props room and rafters.

Davey turned the doorknob and was greeted by pleasantly warm light as he entered the large room behind the stage, it being almost completely silent, what with the walls being made out of concrete, disturbed only by the occasional swish of a brush and slosh of water.

Davey turned his head to the left of the room, looking down from the wooden-plank floors and along it until his eyes glanced up at Jack, who was currently sitting in the ground in a white undershirt and paint-stained black pants, looking a bit big on him, unlike the undershirt, which cling to his body, showing the curve of his spine that looked as though it might be in pain from how long it had spent in that position as Jack focused in on the half-painted canvas before him, squinting with his tongue slightly blepped out.

Drawn to his face, Davey took notice of his red bandana hung over his left shoulder, covered in paint much like his face and arms.

Davey was able to get a few more moments of...studying.. before Jack seemed to register him and look up, presuming a sheepish smile as he tried and failed to hide his work, unable to from the size of the canvas, considering he was painting a backdrop, and the fact that the paint was wet, meaning his quick attempt to try and cover it with his body, failed when he realized a moment before he nearly touched it, that the paint was wet. He now sat up and stretched with an expression that gave away the fact that yes, he had been in that position for quite some time.

“Heya there, Dave.” Jack grinned as he swung his torso to the left and then to the right, popping it as he did so.

“Is that Santa Fe?” Davey approached the other slowly, bending down beside him and squinting at the warm-colored canvas that looked like mountains of clay had been painted onto it.

“Good eye you got there, Davey- I’m not sure.” The taller boy cocked his head and seemed to examine the painting for himself before nodding, “I think it is. I wasn’t really paying no attention to what it was that I was paintin’, just that it’s felt right.”

“Mm, I’m not surprised.” Davey sighed in amusement with a nod.

“So glad I’m typical.” Jack snorted as he got to his feet and stretched some more.

Davey felt his cheeks heat up as he looked over Jack’s torso. The boy was in incredible shape, from years of hauling newspapers around from every corner of town. God, Davey hoped the other didn’t lose that perfection during their two weeks inside.

“Somethin’ on me shirt?” Jack cocked an eyebrow at Davey, who hadn’t noticed that Jack was now looking at him.

This made the light haired boy blush more and shake his head, “No- no, just thinking.”

“Aw, ‘bout me?” Jack cooed teasingly as he took a few steps forward to stand before Davey with a cocky grin.

When am I not? Well, maybe when he was worrying- but that was quite often as well so maybe then too-

Davey would have had to have been an idiot to not realize his feelings for Jack were more than platonic, but he’d have to be an even bigger idiot to ever voice that, “Just thinking about the time inside is all.”

“Time inside? What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack chuckled as he sidestepped a few inches to lean against the side of the cement wall that faced the backstage room.

Davey lifted his eyebrows in surprise as he strode over to lean against a patch of wall a few feet up from Jack, “Didn’t you hear about the lockdown?”

“What lockdown?” Jack frowned.

“We’re stuck in here for two weeks so the virus can be contained.” Davey frowned at the thought of it.

“You’re kidding!” Jack sat up straighter with lifted eyebrows.

“Wish I was.” Davey scratched at his arm anxiously.

“But what about the boys back at the lodge?” Jack fretted.

“They’ll be fine there I’m sure.” Davey reassured.

“And your family?” The so-called dime-novel-cowboy crossed his arms over his chest in concern.

“A-At home.” Davey’s scratching on his arm got faster and with more force.

“Sarah’s with them?” Jack asked quietly.

Davey’s nails dug into his arm at the comment, “Yeah.” He responded quietly.

Jack and Sarah had gone their separate ways nearly a season ago, but their friendship had lingered, much to Davey’s selfish dislike. He didn’t favor the fact that Sarah constantly talked about Jack as though they were still together.

And even though Davey knew almost certainly that they weren’t, he wasn’t exactly in control of his jealousy.

“That’s good.” Jack nodded in subtle relief.

Davey knew it wasn’t fair to Jack nor his sister that he was jealous. They were both simply living out their lives with their own story, and Davey was doing so as well. He just couldn’t help but think that his story would be a lot better with Jack by his side in a more than friendly manor.

Davey’s arm was getting redder as he scratched it harder, growing more nervous.

“So we can’t leave here at all?” Jack snapped Davey out of his thoughts.

The shorter boy shook his head, “No. Law enforcement is patrolling the whole city. You can only leave for necessities. His arm was bright red now and-

“Stop doing that.” Jack made eye-contact with Davey.

Davey’s nervous antics slowed for a moment as he looked at Jack, “Do what?”

“That-“ Jack reached forward and put his hand on top of the hand that scratched at Davey’s arm, pulling it into his own while he looked over the blue-eyed boy’s arm, “Geez, Dave. You’s gotta’ find a betta outlet than that for yours nervous energy.”

Davey shrugged as his mind eased, feeling Jack’s hand on his own, “Maybe.”

“Here, how about yous try painting a bit.” The boy led Davey over to the canvas, picking up a paintbrush from his cup of paint water and flicking it to the side to dry it before handing it to Davey, “Draw somethin’.”

“It would ruin the painting though.” Davey reasoned with a frown.

“Art is art.” Jack shrugged, “It’ll be nice to have a little bit of Dave on it.”

Davey smiled at his friend’s words. Jack always seemed to know exactly what to say to him. But he wasn’t sure how affective him painting would be, “I just- any color?”

“Well-“ Jack began before shaking his head, “Any color.”

Dave thought about it for a moment and reached for the paints.

***

Part 2: https://pawsu-productions.tumblr.com/post/615272010026827776/newsies-in-quarantine-javid-part-2

[rosalynbair]

Wings

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader Words: 6240 Request: Anon: GLAD YOU'RE BACK s2. Can you write something like maleficent, where snoke sends kylo to capture the "goddess" because she has extremely strong powers because of her wings. So kylo goes to this planet and stays there for quite a time but he falls completely in love with her and when snokes finds out he said that if he doesn't cut off her wings he'll send someone to get her. So kylo take them away from her or they scape but she doesn't want because of her people and because he lied to her. Warnings: Some blood/pain Authors Note: I wrote like, 100 words in two weeks on this and the other 3000 was in a night. I hope you guys like it!

 “It is to be done” The withering being hisses out, his dark eyes squinting as he leaned forward, his hologram flickering as he spoke to the masked man. “Yes” Kylo Ren whispers, his mask distorting his voice to a deep rasp. The tall man bows slightly, turning on his heel quickly, his cape flowing and catching General Hux of the armed guard in the heel, the perfect uniform distorting for a moment from the breeze. As he passed through the hallways, his footsteps muted from a simple spell, the workers in the hall bowing their heads and avoiding any possible eye contact. Kylo lets out a forced huff, a crackling coming from his mask. He turns a corner, his cape hitting the wall. “Move” he snaps at a few workers who were blocking his way. They move quickly, uttering quiet and frantic “sorry” as they backed against the wall. Kylo gets to the Hangar, his ship being prepared by the engineers. “It is not ready yet sir!” One tells him, their face red from the sudden order to prepare the ship. “Supreme Leader Snoke demands me gone within a quarter hour” Kylo says, his head turning so he could look at each of the grey clad engineers. “I expect to be gone in half of that time.” “But sir!” One argues. “Enough!” Kylo yells, his voice crackling through the vocoder. “Yes sir” the engineer whispers, avoiding his harsh gaze as they retreat to the ship, running tests on the engine to make sure the ship could make it through the barriers of a planet that was ancient. Kylo walks up the ramp into the command shuttle, moving towards the cockpit. He sits down, flicking a small switch to close the door. Travelling through space was always marvelous. Kylo enjoyed the cold, the harsh silence of being amongst the stars and planets. He never felt required to think while he was in his ship, watching the stars streak by the window as he pushed the command shuttle into hyper speed. The ship was quieter than it usually was on his missions, he was the only one on this particular mission. Though, he would have no idea how long he would be gone from the Finalizer. He didn’t know how long this could take. The people upon this planet had stayed in ancient times, never allowing their lives to be infected by technology. They were odd creatures, mostly inhabited by humans and fairies of different sides of the spectrum. He had heard that the planet housed the most powerful goddess in the known universe, but he didn’t think it true until Snoke had sent him out on this mission. “Find where her powers come from” Snoke had hissed at him “Find her powers and take it, bring her entire self if it is necessary. Do not fail me Kylo ren.” The planet in itself was a child’s bedtime story. This mission seemed like one as well. The fairy was a goddess. There were rumors of her wings and her pointed ears. Her love for her planet and her rivalry with the human kingdom. But these were all rumors. No outsider had been on the planet in decades. His ship lurched, Kylo curses, grabbing the steering handles and gripping them tightly. He knew that this would be a bad landing. The barriers around the planet were magic, usually trying to keep the technology out of the atmosphere to keep the planet pure. Kylo watches his dashboard as the lights slowly flick off, the switches flicking into their ‘off’ position. He curses, scrambling to put the ship into an emergency landing, only to find everything was locked and unmovable. Even with the force, he had no control over anything in his shuttle. He scrambles to put on his restrictive seatbelt for the inevitable crash landing, holding onto the steering holds, watching as the moors below him became closer and closer, the wind around the ship creating a loud whistling screech. Kylo awaited the impact of the hard ground. ~ When Kylo awoke, he immediately started to assess any physical damage to his person. Flexing his fingers and moving his arms, he undoes the belt that held him against the seat. He lets out a loud groan when he tilts forward. He lifts up his cowl, seeing bruises forming across his chest and abdomen. He leans back against the seat, stretching out his legs and flexing his toes. Kylo pauses for a moment before bracing his hand on the dash, the other against the arm rest as he forces himself out of the seat. A moan rips from his throat as he stumbles towards the door, leaving the cockpit as he grips the wall, forcing himself to stay upright. Kylo slams his hand against the door release, the door opening as the stairs descended towards the forest floor. He stumbles forward, his foot catching on his cloak and he barely notices that he’s falling, his beat up body tumbling down and onto the dirt. He feels a pressure against his hip, causing him to look up. There’s a being in front of him, their foot holding him from rolling down a hill. “Who are you” He rasps, his visor looking straight at their silhouette. ~ “You don’t get to ask anything until you explain why you have destroyed half of my forest with your ship” You snap, removing your black sandal clad foot from his hip. You had felt the disturbance of your barriers, something large forcing it’s way into the atmosphere. You had fumbled to disable the ship as quickly as possible. You were rusty though, you hadn’t had to stop anyone from coming onto your planet in decades. “Your forest?” He whispers, blinking a few times. “Take off your mask. Speak to me like the man you are” You hiss, stepping back from him. Kylo grumbles, rolling onto his stomach and using his hands to push himself off of the ground. He stands, towering over you. “The mask stays on” “No” You say, your fingers tightening around your staff, the green crystal on it beginning to glow. “You do not get to disobey my after trespassing in my territory.” You twist your wrist, the glow from the crystal becoming it’s own light source. Kylo cries out in pain as his mask is ripped from his face, his eyes follow the object until it hits a tree. His eyes widen when he sees small creatures swarm around it once it hit the ground. “Get away from that!” He yells, stumbling towards the beings. You swiftly lift your hand, forcing him back. He groans once more when he lands against the stairs. “State your name.” You hiss “I will not ask again.” “Kylo Ren” He coughs at you, blinking again to see you properly in the light. You were tall for a woman, your legs were slightly apart, your shoulders squared with your hips in your stance, showing Kylo clearly that you were trying to show your power to him. The power over him. His eyes traced two horns upon your head, each of them curving backwards until they curled slightly forward. Your face held strong features, that of those who had seen war or death. Your eyes stared into him, as if you could see every crime he had ever committed, all the pain he had caused. Your eyebrow arched delicately as your lips moved. Kylo shook his head, realizing that you were speaking to him. He also began to notice the ringing in his ears. “Why are you here” You repeat “Did King David send you to try to kill me?” “No” Kylo muttered “I have no dealings with pathetic kings” “Good. Though I find difficulty in believing anything you say.” You tell him “Come. I will get you food and something for your pain.” You turn on your heel, your cloak swinging out behind you, hitting Kylo in his bloodied face. You begin to walk, and Kylo watches for a few moments before pushing himself off of the stairs, stumbling after you. His eyes follow where your feet had been, a trail of fresh grass and blooming flowers followed you. He looks to your horns once more, you had an extremely powerful presence. “Are you the goddess?” He asks when he gets closer to you, you turn your head slightly, glancing at him. “Presumably” You say, altering your course slightly so you avoided the large drop down to the river. “What does that mean?” He asks, glowering at you. “It means that you have no reason to know.” You tell him, hopping onto a rock and following the natural steps down to the riverside. Kylo follows awkwardly, his injuries making his large frame even more unbalanced than usually. His eyes go everywhere. At no point in his few decades in existence had he seen anything more beautiful than the forest that surrounded him. Nymphs coming up from the depths of the river to giggle at him, wiggling their fingers in greeting to him. One cups her hand, pushing water up at him. The water lands on his cloak, and he sighs in frustration, glaring at the Nymph. She gives him a sharp tooth grin, diving back into the water. You hide a smile, hearing Kylo curse about the extra weight that he now carried. “They’ll seduce you if you stare at them long enough” You say, looking up when a flock of crows leave a tree. You keep walking, Kylo marvelling the beauty that surrounded him. He doesn’t know why, but he walked slightly beside and behind you, as to not step on the flowers that popped up behind you. The silence between you was calm, the rushing waters of the river and the wind through the leaves of the trees above him filled any void that could be filled with speaking. You walk delicately across some stones in the river, turning back towards him when you were halfway across. “Do you need assistance?” You ask, watching him clamber awkwardly onto the second stone. The bottom of your cloak was gathering water as you waited for his answer. “Yes” He sighs in defeat, watching you hop over the stones once more, gripping his bicep right above his elbow. He felt the warmth through his cowl, causing him to shiver. You guide him over the stones, helping him onto the other side. “Not much further” you tell him. You continue your walk, him following slightly closer for the rest of the walk. In almost no time at all, a small cabin came into his vision. It was something out of a book, stone walls with ivy climbing over them. Small windows above a beautifully multicoloured garden. He had never seen so many flowers in such a small area. To the right of the house was the river again, a large black horse grazing the grass beside it. To the left were rolling fields of the greenest grass he had ever seen, dotted with brightly coloured flowers and large trees. In the distance he noticed something similar to a wall. “Beyond that barrier, you will find King David and his kingdom. They will not be kind hosts” You tell him, walking up to the cabin and opening the door. Kylo steps into the building, noticing a large crow resting on the windowsill. It lets out a loud caw. “Hush Diaval” You say before turning to Kylo. “Sit” He doesn’t object, collapsing into a small kitchen chair, fumbling with the clasp on his cloak to remove it. You take it from him, taking it outside and hanging it on a clothing line to dry from the Nymph’s playing. When you return inside your cabin, Kylo had removed his cowl, leaving him in a simple undershirt. He was running his fingers over the bruises on his arms, wincing when he found a few cuts. “I apologize for your bad landing. I haven’t shut down a ship in a long time” You tell him, stepping forward and kneeling in front of him, fingers trailing over the deep cuts. Kylo stares as they begin to close. There was pain in the process, but not the same amount that would come if they had gotten infected.  “I will not do much to help your wounds, you destroyed one of my favorite trees. You deserve a little pain.” Kylo stares at you, grumbling slightly. “I don’t need your help” “I don’t have to give it.” You remind him, standing and turning. Fingers reaching up to the brooch that rested above your clavicle, you unclasp it, taking the cloak off and resting it on another chair, placing the brooch in a small jewellery box that sat on an oak dresser. Kylo coughed, seeing your wings uncovered. They dragged along the floor, the sun that came through the windows would catch the ink black feathers. In the sunlight he could see the undertones of blue and purple, almost like a crystal being shown in light for all of it’s beauty.  He could see the slits in your dress where they attached to your back, the skin seemingly scarred. You turn around to him, handing him a slice of pull apart bread and some cold soup. Kylo mutters a quiet thank you, dipping the bread into the soup before tearing his teeth into it. ~ You watched the man as he stood by the river, his face turned up to the sky as the wind whipped through his long hair. He had barely spoken in the week he had been residing in your cabin. He would help you with making food or feeding your horse. He took great care to not step on any flower in the ground. Occasionally you would find him sitting in a tree in the morning, some form of woodland creature resting on his knee to keep him company. For someone so out of place, he fit in so well. “Kylo!” You call, looking out to the river again Ezra had joined him, he reached his hand out, petting the large horse gently between his ears. “Come inside, it’s going to pour!” Kylo looks up to you, your arms crossed over your chest, wings folding around your shoulders and arms, feet bare in the grass, dress flowing around your calves in the strong winds. He nods, looking to Ezra. “Go find shelter” Kylo says quietly, tapping the horse’s hip with his hand. Ezra shakes his long neck, his mane rustling and spinning before he begins to trot off. Kylo starts the walk over to the cabin, meeting you and letting you lead him into the cabin where you had started a fire in the fireplace, a few candles lit on the mantle. “I made bread, and some muffins” You say, looking at Kylo softly. You had noticed so much pain in him throughout the week. He often kept to himself, and whenever you asked a question of his history or where he came from, he would retreat into himself, and you wouldn’t hear a word out of him for hours. Kylo takes a muffin, a bite being taken from it. “It’s good” He tells you through the mouthful. “Thank you” You say with a smile, turning and running your fingers through your hair as you walk to the windows, Diaval flying in quickly before you shut and latched the windows. “Do you have hair?” Kylo asks, staring at your horns once more. “Yes” You say, letting out a small laugh “It’s this crown. It hides all of it” “Can I see it?” He asks, watching your facial expression. “Only if you tell me something about yourself” You counter, sitting down in the seat across from him. “Why do you want to know about me so much?” He asks you, brows furrowing as he sets the muffin down. “Because you’re living in my house and I know nothing about you” You say “I’ll take off my crown and tell you something about myself as long as you tell me something about you. I’ll take anything at this point Kylo.” “Okay” He grumbles “My mother is the leader of the resistance and my father was a smuggler.” “Was?” You ask, “Does he have another profession now?” “He’s dead” Kylo says, and you know immediately from his expression that you should stop prying. “Oh” You say, glancing down. “I never knew my parents, I just… Existed one day. And I’ve been existing ever since. I haven’t aged in thirty years.” You look up at him, seeing him picking at the muffin. You reach up, your fingers peeling away the snake like skin that was wrapped around your head, you pull it off once it was loosened, standing and setting it on the dresser. You pulled the leather tie out of your hair, letting the strands fall around your face. You wrap the leather around your wrist, picking up the wide tooth wooden comb and running it through your hair, feeling the knots loosen as you pulled it through. “You’re very beautiful” Kylo whispers, watching your gentle movements. “Thank you” You say, a slight blush coming up to heat your cheeks. Outside, you hear the rain begin to pour. ~ Kylo slept in front of the fire as you watched him from your bed. Holding a quilt tightly around you, your toes peaking out from the bottom. He was shirtless, his pants and boots still on. Even in living in your home for a month, he never showed his body. Never accepted your offer to switch sleeping locations for a night. “The floor can’t be good for your back” You would tell him. But he would always decline, telling you that he can’t take a bed from a lady. You leave the bed quietly, removing the quilt from around you and laying it gently over Kylo, lifting your hand and using your magic to undo the clasps on his boots, wiggling your fingers and watching them slip off his feet. You sigh sadly. Even his feet had deep scars. Much like the ones on his back and arms. You return to your bed, wings wrapping around your body as you curled up on the small bed. ~ “Where did you go” Kylo asks you, looking up from where he was pacing across the room. “I had to do my rounds of the perimeter” You say quietly, hands rubbing your arms to try to bring back some warmth “I still have duties that I need to fulfil.” “Tell me when you’re going to leave again” He says, coming over with the quilt, wrapping it around you. “You were sleeping” You argue weakly, holding the quilt tightly to you. “You should have worn something warmer than your dress” Kylo grumbles, fussing with rubbing your arms. “Sit in front of the fire. I’ll heat up some soup” You do as he says, sitting on the blanket he uses to sleep on, legs stretched out so the soles of your feet were directly in front of the flames. You hear Kylo bump a few items together, he grumbles when you let out a small laugh at him when you look over. He scoops some soup into a bowl, grabbing a spoon and coming over to you, handing you the bowl. “It’s getting cold out y/n” He tells you “You’re going to get sick if you don’t cover up when you go out. I’ve seen people die of cold, I don’t want to see you die of something so stupid.” “Be careful Kylo, you’re making it sound like you care about me” You say with a smile, scooping up some soup with the spoon and shovelling it into your mouth. “So what if I do?” Kylo grumbles defensively. “It’ll mess up whatever you came here for” You say, seeing him open his mouth to protest “Don’t lie to me. I know when you do. You came here for something, not just to run away from that war out there.” Kylo lets out a sigh, sitting beside you while you ate and warmed up. When you finished the soup, you yawned, leaning against the ruggedly dark and handsome man who had come to take up so much space in your life and heart. You yawn once more, resting your eyes. ~ “It’s my wings” You find yourself saying, leaning into Kylo as you mixed the seasonings for your dinner. “Your power comes from your wings?” Kylo asks, looking down at you, seeing you nod before looking up to catch his eyes. “Not everyone is just born with magic. It hides in certain areas.” You say, stirring the powders once more “Some can have it in horns, or their voice. I knew a fairy whose magic was in her eyes.” You look down, hands pausing as you release a sigh. “What is it?” Kylo asks, brows furrowing. “She’s blind now” You whisper. “She lives in a cave, she doesn’t know how to live without her magic anymore.” “How did she lose it?” He asks, his hand taking the spices bowl from you. “King David feared her, so he cut out her eyes” You mutter quietly, a shiver wracking through your body. “That’s when I put up the wall of thorns between the forest and the human kingdom. He tortured so many of us, found our magic and took it. There’s only a few of us left with magic” Kylo looks away, his breathing becoming shaky. “I’ll be right back” He leaves the cabin quickly, shoulders trembling as he remembered once more why he was sent to this planet. To this woman. The thought of tearing such a significant part of her away from her was unimaginable to him. Kylo leans against a tree, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing the thought of her screaming in pain away from him. He couldn’t do that to her. He loved her too much to cause her any form of pain. “Kylo?” You ask, standing in the doorway “Are you alright?” “I’m fine” He coughs, turning to you. He walks back to the cabin, stepping passed you to return to making dinner. From the windowsill in front of him, Diaval cawed angrily. ~ “Y/n?” Kylo groans, seeing you coming in from outside, snow coming down from the sky. He saw your bare legs and feet. “Don’t say it” You mutter “I know, I’ll die from the cold if I don’t cover up. I swear I’ll wear something warmer next time. But it was an emergency. So please just help me warm up.” Kylo nods, sighing as he comes over to you, guiding you to your bed and tucking you in under the covers, sitting beside you on top of the quilt. “Come under” You whine, tugging on his shirt. Kylo flushes slightly, nodding as he kicks off his boots, he leans back, raising his hips so he could shimmy under the blankets, sitting beside you again properly as you wrap your arm around his thighs. You look up at him, giving him a tired smile. “You take such good care of me” You say quietly, nuzzling his hip with your nose. Kylo looks down to you with a smile “Go to sleep y/n” ~ “We won’t be able to go out for a while” You say to Kylo, watching his face “We’re going to get a lot of snow. It’ll be hard to leave the cabin.” “Oh what a shame.” Kylo says dramatically, rolling his eyes before looking at you. “What could we ever do to pass the time?” “Do you have a suggestion?” You ask, looking out the window where the snow continued to fall. “Maybe one” He whispers shyly, his fingers tracing your cheekbone and your nose, falling onto your lips. He uses his other arm to adjust you, making sure to keep you and your wings comfortable as he brings your face up closer to his, his fingers only leaving your lips to replace them with his lips. They were extremely soft for someone who never put any form of balm on them, and for someone who always chewed at their lip when they were frustrated. You didn’t fully realize how big they were until they were on yours. You let out a soft sigh, your breath hot against his face. He brings you closer, the arm around you adjusting so his fingers were in your hair. “You taste like pomegranates” You whisper gently, giggling breathlessly. “I’ve never tasted something as wonderful as you” He replies, kissing the corner of your mouth and up your cheek. You grin, opening your eyes to watch him. With each kiss, he closes his eyes. You shiver when he places his lips once more onto yours. “I love you a lot” you mumble, curling into him, wings flexing before wrapping around you and Kylo. A small reflex to keep the two of you safe from anything bad. “And I love you” He whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so lucky you came here” You say, smiling up at him “I’m so lucky I have you with me.” ~ “Ren” The hoarse voice shouts at him, Kylo squirms in his sleep. He hadn’t heard this voice in months. “You’re wasting time!” “I’m not!” Kylo cries out into the dark abyss in front of him. All warmth was gone from around him. He couldn’t feel you beside him, or the fire across the room. He was completely alone save for the large hologram in front of him of the scarred being he called his master. “You have been gone from the First Order for to long!” Snoke hisses to him “You were not supposed to be gone for more than a week! It has been a year! Or have you lost track of your mission.” “No Supreme Leader. I haven’t” Kylo says quietly, avoiding the gaze of his master. “Where is her power source?” It was a question, but Snoke made it into the worst kind of command. The words making Kylo drop to his knees. “Where is it Kylo. Kylo slams his fist against the floor, cursing. “She trusts me!” He yells, looking up to the flickering hologram. “So it will be easy for you to finish your mission” Snoke says, leaning forward on his throne. Kylo looks down once more when Snoke gets closer to his face. How could a hologram be so commanding? So terrifying? “Where is her power source?” Kylo couldn’t keep the answer in. A pressure was against his chest, forcing air out of his lungs. He begins to cough, a loud wet noise coming from him. “Where, Kylo Ren!” Snoke yells, his voice echoing throughout Kylo’s mind. “Wings!” Kylo coughs, vomit coming up his throat, covering his hand and the ground. Kylo coughs again, curling into himself, hair falling around his face, the strands in damp clumps from sweat. “You have a week” Snoke says quietly “If you are not back to the Star Destroyer base with her wings in that time, I will send another to do it.” Kylo coughs, a loud, wet sound. “If you are not back in a week, you will have declared yourself against the First Order, for everything that you’ve ever worker for. You will be an outcast” Snoke tells him, squinting at the man in front of him “I did not raise you to be weak.” The hologram rippled, Snoke vanishing without a sound. Kylo looks up, his body trembling. Chin dripping with the contents of his stomach and excess saliva from his mouth. There was nothing around him, he couldn’t see anything. He could feel the cold ground beneath him, but when he looked down to his hand, there was nothing there. He lets out a shocked yell, scrambling upwards Kylo. He looks around, fighting for air as he sucks in nothing into his lungs. He lets out a choked noise, reaching up to grip his chest. His hand was there, but he couldn’t see it. “Kylo?” Your voice echoed throughout the abyss, almost like it was echoing off mountains. “Y/n!” Kylo yells, coughing once more for breath. Kylo feels a hand on his bicep, he looks around, knowing it was you. But you weren’t here. You weren’t in the darkness with him. “Kylo!” You yell. You sounded so far away. So unreachable. He lets out a sob, his arm swinging out. “Y/N!” He yells, his hand finds something solid. He grabs onto it. “Open your eyes! Please” You gasp, holding his bicep tighter. His eyes snap open, blurred colours dancing across his vision. “Y/N?” He whispers hazily, his raw throat letting your name out in a rasp. “I’m here” you say gently, pushing his wet hair away from his face. “I’m here.” Kylo blinks a few times, his eyes focusing on you. Your hair was a mess around your face, your eyes wide with fear, the more he woke, the more he noticed your trembling body, hands shaking on his arm. He sits up, his arm wrapping around you quickly, pulling you tightly against him as he buries his face into your neck. “I’m sorry” He whispers, body shaking with yours. “Why are you sorry Kylo?” You ask, eyes searching his face for any answer. He releases you, standing up shakily. Grabbing onto a chair as he steadied himself. “I need to think” He whispers, stepping into his boots and pulling his cloak around him. “Kylo what’s going on?” You ask, scrambling from the bed. “Go back to sleep. Don’t follow me” He snaps, grabbing something from his belt as he stormed out of the one roomed cabin, the wind screaming as he slammed the door behind him. You stare, eyes wide. One leg was off the bed, the other bent under you. Through the noise of the storm outside, you heard Kylo scream. ~ The night dragged on. You didn’t return to bed, but you did as he said and didn’t follow him out. You paced the cabin, and you’re sure you were noticing a rut beginning to form in your floorboards. You flexed your wings, looking out the window and seeing the sky beginning to lighten ever so slightly. You knew morning had arrived. Your body was trembling when you went to your small counter, slicing a loaf of bread and taking a slice, nibbling slightly on the crust. You sat down, staring at the door for what seemed like eternity. A full day passed, then two, and then three. You barely moved from the chair. On the fourth day, you changed from your nightgown into some wool pants and a thick sweater, gently pushing your wings through the slits in the back. You sit down, pulling on some knee-high leather boots. You reach for your cloak, clasping it with the brooch before leaving the cabin. The snow still fell around you as you walked, seeing the slightest imprints of Kylo’s boots left in the snow. You tremble, seeing part of a tree in front of your home sliced down the trunk. You flex your wings, you walk down where there was once a path in front of the cabin, getting out of the shadow of your home. The wind rustled through your wings, lifting you up in your takeoff. You keep your eyes on the ground, following the weak trail to where Kylo might be. There was no life in the cold. All your creatures and the people you ruled over were hidden away in the warmth of their homes, with their loved ones. Your wings struggled against the wind when your direction changed. Your body was shaking in the cold, and with the fear of what was coming. What would you find? Would you find Kylo? Is he alive? Frozen to death? You noticed more things around you had the same slashes at the tree by the cabin. Once you lost the trail of his footprints, you began to follow the slashes, hair whipping around your face, almost making you miss the mass of black, a blur of bright red swinging around it. You gasp, landing a safe distance away. “Kylo?” You call, walking closer ever so slowly. “I told you to stay!” He yells, turning to you. He was soaked, his cloak barely moving from having been drenched from his sweat and the snow, and then frozen in the cold. “I was worried about you” You tell him, coming closer “What is that thing?” “You know nothing about me!” He yells, a sob coming through his words. “What don’t I know Kylo?” You ask, stopping your steps a few arm lengths from him. “Everything” He whispers, dropping his arm, the red glow stilling. “I’m not safe” “What does that mean?” You ask, eyeing the object in his hand. It was almost like a sword. But not quite. It looked much more dangerous. “I killed my father. I’m the evil in the world” He snaps, looking you in the eyes “I was sent here to take your wings away from you” You stare, eyes widening. Kylo watches for your reaction, noticing the briefest of steps backwards. “But I can’t do it.” He hisses, spinning and waving the flaming sword. “I love you too much to hurt you. I can’t complete this mission” He drops to his knees in front of you, pressing a button and turning the red light off. “If I don’t do it, Snoke will send someone out to get you. They’ll bring you to the Finalizer to torture you before removing your wings. They’ll give you the most painful death imaginable.” “What side of that war are you on” You whisper, bringing your arms and wings around you. “The bad side” He whispers, “I told you my mother was the leader of the resistance.” You didn’t know how to respond. You look down at the ground. “What are we going to do?” Kylo looks up, standing up weakly and stumbling over to you. “I can hide you. Far from here. I can take you to my mother. She’ll keep you safe” “I can’t leave here” You say “I need to keep my people safe. Your people will find me no matter where I am. I cannot be a part of a war. And I cannot bring my kingdom into a war” “It’s our only option” Kylo says, reaching his hand up to hold your cold cheek. But you turn your head away, his hand hovering still for a moment before dropping. “You can take my wings” You whisper, a tear freezing on your cheek. “it will keep us all safe.” “It will cause you pain” He tells you “I cannot do that.” “You have to” You say “It’ll be in vain for your master. No one can use them other than me. Your simply have a useless set of wings collecting dust.” Kylo watches you “You’re not thinking properly.” “I’ll still have my magic. It just won’t be as strong” You say softly, looking up at him “I’m telling you to take my wings. Save all of us and keep us out of the war. Kylo, take them.” He steps towards you again, reaching up and wrapping his arms around your body. “I don’t want to do it.” “You must” You say, arms holding his hips for a moment before stepping back. He watches you quietly, a tears falling from his eyes. “You’re my one weakness” He says, body shaking as he presses the button once more, the red flying out of the holes. “What is that thing?” You ask, eyeing it. “A lightsaber” He mumbles. “you’re a Jedi” You whisper, eyes wide and mouth falling open slightly. “I could have been” He says, not meeting your eyes. “Do you love me?” You ask, using your fingers to force his chin up. “Yes” He responds gently, his eyes resting on your nose. Avoiding your gaze. “You can do this” You tell him. “Just do it quickly. Please.” You turn, back facing him. You hear his shaky breaths. You clench your fists, forcing your wings to fall down against your back. “You’re shaking” He whispers. “I’m scared” You reply, squeezing your eyes shut. You do your best to hold in the agonized scream when you feel a burning slice across the base of your right wing. A high pitched gasped moan comes out instead, and you tremble. You hear a loud thump land behind you, and you glance down, seeing your wing laying in the snow, a small line of blood bleeding into the white. “Only one more” He whispers hoarsely. You did scream this time, falling forward onto your knees as your nails dug into your palm. You heard the thump again, and felt a sudden coldness on your back. You look over, seeing Kylo scooping some snow and placing it where your wings once were. “I’m so sorry” He says, capturing your eyes. Tears streaming more freely from his than yours. You sniffled, forcing yourself up from the snow. “Leave” you say, walking away. “Y/N-!” He calls, watching you stumble in the deep snow. “You’ve finished what you came here for” You sob “Now leave!” Kylo looks down, staring at the bloodied snow. The black wings folding together, any undertone blues and purples began to fade from the feathers. He looked up once more, seeing you gone from his view in the storm.

[sambethe]

CS FF: Hush

A/N: I wrote a little something for the CS Storybook, Volume 2. I opted for a missing scene that falls at the end of Dark Hollow and before the events of Think Lovely Thoughts picks up. @gingerchangeling did a lovely little piece of Emma sitting by the fire to accompany it - go check it out here!

Summary: Emma just needs a break, figuratively and metaphorically. Hook may be the one to give it to her.

Words: 1400 | Rated: gen | ao3

+++

It’s another day down, and another night with Henry out there, alone. It’s enough to make Emma want to steal Neal’s lighter and burn the island down. Take her – take Neal’s - cutlass and hack a path to Henry. Instead she distracts herself by poking at the fire in front of her, watching the embers spark and pop as she disturbs them with the stick she pulled from the brush earlier.

From the corner of her eye she can see Mary Margaret roll out her bedding next to David’s. They still don’t seem to be talking, exactly, but there's a thaw between them. They have once again slid back into that practiced ease of theirs, moving around and with one another seamlessly. It both warms her heart and makes her burn with jealousy. Leaves her with a whole host of what ifs that she tamps down brutally before they can take up residence in her chest, where she is already too full of wants and worries for Henry.

Emma wishes she could say the same of her and Neal. He’s been quiet since they returned from the hollow and set up the night’s camp, curling up on his own bedroll, his back to the fire – and all of them. She doesn’t know whether to huff a sigh and roll her eyes, or hit him in the chest and tell him to get it together. Petulance isn’t what she needs from anyone at this point. She’s feeling enough of it herself.

She meant what she said back in Echo Cave. It would be easier to put everything with him behind her. She doesn’t want face all of it again, doesn’t want to think about the way every part of her cracks when she sees his face. How the ache forms in her chest and begins to gnaw once more, a steady reminder that she has never been enough for someone stay.

But if Neal being here, being back, means there’s a chance Henry doesn’t have to grow up without him, she would face that age-old ache and then some. Because she’ll be damned if Henry ever has to spend one moment more wondering if he matters, to her or anyone else.

Then there’s Hook.

She stabs at the fire again, sliding the stick deep into the embers, shifting them around even when she knows she should leave them be. He shifts behind her as she does, ducking beneath some branches at the edge of the clearing. She wars with herself about whether she should ask, and the words slip from her mouth before she’s realized she’s made up her mind.

“Where are you going?”

She keeps herself from turning as she asks, though, not wanting to see the hint of a smirk on his face or the teasing lift of his eyebrow. She can hear him pause, the swish of his overlong coat fading, and she wonders if he’s turned back towards her or if he, too, refuses to look.

“There’s a river nearby, thought I would get us some fresh water.”

She turns at that point and finds him with the straps of a few canteens wrapped around his hand. Before he can move further, she stands, brushing dirt from her pants.

He waves her off. “You don’t have to. I’ll be back in a tic.”

Not answering, she grabs the cutlass from the top her own bedroll and moves past him. “Let’s go,” she grunts, hacking at the brush in front of her despite the fact they had cleared it away on their way in.

They aren’t more than a few steps from the clearing when his hand wraps around her wrist, stilling her before she can raise her arm for another useless swipe. She glares back at him but doesn’t shrug him off.

“How about we try for a quieter approach?” he asks, one finger rubbing at the side of her wrist. “Not attract any Lost Boys unnecessarily?”

His thumb at her pulse point makes her want to lean back, to sink against him, but she catches herself before she follows that instinct. Slowly rolling her shoulder, she steps forward. Hook drops her hand and steps past her with a nod, taking the path that forks to the right. He doesn’t look to see if she’s followed and she wants to roll her eyes at that, but falls into line behind him instead.

They are quiet as they walk, allowing the sounds of the crickets and cicadas to settle around them. At least she imagines them to be crickets and cicadas. She doesn’t want to ask and risk finding out that even the bugs on this island are the stuff of childhood nightmares. It isn’t long before the trickle of water joins the chirping, and after another bend, the overgrown path dead ends into small river.

Hook drops the canteens to the ground along the bank and shrugs off his coat. She stands at the edge of the water. The quiet that surrounds them is almost soothing. If she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend they are back in Storybrooke. Home and safe, or whatever counts for that there.

“Take off your shoes, love.”

“Huh?”

Emma turns back to find he has shed his vest as well, leaving him in his thin, billowy shirt. His boots are discarded and he’s rolled up the ends of his pants, exposing his ankles and shins. She’s not sure if she’s ever seen this much of his skin and she’s sure she’s staring with her mouth hanging open.

If she is though, he ignores it and nods to the water as he takes a step forward. “The water runs warm. When nights go cold like this one, it’s a good respite.”

“You came out here to play in the water?”

“There’s nothing more we can do for Henry tonight, and we are no good to your boy if we haven’t rested. This...” He reaches his arm out and gestures for her to join him. “This allows me to relax. Come, try it.”

She narrows her eyes and drops a hand to her hip.

“Swan.”

The way her drawls her name sends a shiver through her that she tries hard to ignore. Rather than answer, she rolls her eyes, but lifts a leg so she can remove her boot. She does the same with her other foot and then leans down to roll up her pants. Hook is smiling by the time she is done and encourages her out into the water.

He’s right, not that she wants to tell him that, and for a brief moment she wishes the water was deep enough to dunk herself in. Then she shakes away the thought. She doesn’t want to think about the last time she’s had a shower, or have a reminder of just how long it has been since Henry was home and safe.

After a few minutes, Hook moves back to the river bank, settling down on the soft grass there, stretching out to leave his feet at the water’s edge. She watches him, drawn to the way the bones of his ankle stand out, the lines and sinews of them tempting. The hair of his legs stops just above the knob of bone, and her fingers itch to follow the swirls of it in the same way he held her wrist earlier.

She stops herself though, sitting down next to him and purposely leaving a decent gap of space between them. Her fingers tangle through the grass beneath them, and she tugs a bit but not enough to pull it up. Keeping her attention at her hand, she quietly asks, “Can you tell me again?”

“What’s that?”

“That we’ll find Henry? That we’ll keep him safe?”

She slaps her toes against the surface of the water, enjoying the small beads that land on the tops of her feet and how their warmth seeps into her skin. Hook extends a foot towards hers, poking at her ankle with his big toe until she finally relents and looks at him.

“You’ll get your boy back, love, of that I’ve never been more sure.”

He then turns towards her, stretching one foot over his extended leg, planting it on the ground and creating a bridge with his leg as he lies down on his side. He props his head in his hand, his hook lying between them.

She shifts to face him and gives him a small smile. “We should go back,” she says, closing her eyes.

“Hush,” he whispers. “We’ve time, just rest.”

[spiritwatch]

05/07/2020 - Trapped on a cursed island with robots, aliens, and ghosts

[PART I/III]

It started with a group of us being shipped over to live on a haven-like island. We only knew half of what we were getting ourselves into but agreed anyway. I’m assuming it was because we really didn’t have any other choice.

The town we arrived in was quaint and a beautiful mix of traditional European architecture and modern designs. The roads were a mixture of cobblestone and gravel and small, round islands of parks and greenery spotted around the land. We were brought to a waiting area by the water where we were told to wait until someone came to assign us our houses. So we obediently waited on those wooden benches by the lake until night fell and the lampposts around us automatically illuminated at their designated times.

My eyes began to wander and I was the first to notice the strange lights and shapes in the clouds.

“Look there!” I whispered to the others. “Does anyone else see those?”

The shapes began to clarify within the clouds as massive UFO’s with their windows and light beams faintly glowing as to not attract too much attention. It was almost comical to me that they were exactly as the media stereotypically portrayed them. They whirled around the area, seemingly surveying, momentarily stopping every now and then to beam something upwards towards them. Instead of shock and terror, we all stared in awe and wonder, as if something we knew for years had just been confirmed.

Then a noise drew our attention back into the village.

Large, egg-shaped robots as large as a car were wheeling around, their four legs extending their bodies up and down as necessary to attend to the houses and buildings. Some were repainting the roofs; others were unscrewing the windows to a veranda to rearrange it.

“So that’s how they do it,” a girl whispered a few seats away from me. 

We were all aware that while living in his haven-like neighbourhood, we had a very strict curfew that must never be broken. We were free to do whatever we wanted within our homes afterwards, but it was absolutely mandatory that not a living soul was out on the streets past the assigned times. Seeing these robots, with their menacingly large sizes and hands transformable into several different tools, we were the first to visually confirm why.

But now what about us?

The realization that we were - although unintentionally - breaking curfew washed over us. Were we safe? What would happen if we got caught? It technically wasn’t even our fault.

Then the new realization that maybe we were purposefully being left out hit us like a rock.

Sensing that everyone was getting restless, I took over, apparently more than confident I knew what I was doing. Gesturing to another boy, I called out to him. “___, shine that flashlight you have onto ____’s glasses so we can lead them further away from us.” At least we’ll feel safer if they weren’t in our vicinity.

They did as they were told and the flight flashed brightly into the trees further down the waterfront, attracting the attention of the robot just at the top of the stairs from us and the other ones around that area too. When they manoeuvred away, the whole group breathed out a sigh of relief.

[PART II/III]

It had been a few days since our arrival and the same people were called back to that meeting point by the water again. This time, several people were looking wide-eyed and dazed despite all the others outside of our group appearing fine. The only people that weren’t losing (or haven’t already lost) their minds were me, a little girl who took a liking to me called Olivia, and a few other young adults, including two of my childhood friends, Thomas and David.

After a few moments of sitting, a group of townspeople wearing ceremonial robes surrounded us with smiles on their faces, singing a haunting song about sacrifices and life beyond the grave being a wondrous place. They handed each person a thick canvas book, bound together by string and leather. The inside pages were empty except for the first one which held a table of contents. There were four listed:

1. Entering the home. 2. Witnessing the beauty of Heaven. 3. Accepting the song and curse of ____. 4. The End.

Several cold realizations hit me upon reading these and I looked to my friends in fright. The song the group had been previously singing was the one titled in the book. Does that mean we’re already nearing “The End”? What does “The End” even mean? Either way, I knew it couldn’t be good for a whole chapter to be titled “The End”.

“Maybe it was just a typo,” Thomas suggested, shrugging. He wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t worry about it, babe, I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe it just means the end of our initiation.”

“I don’t know about that,” David said lowly. “Haven’t you realized how strangely everyone else is behaving?” He rubbed at his arms, his dark skin forming goosebumps despite the warm weather. “Something’s been weird about how they’ve been treating us since the day we got here.”

Olivia tugged at my skirt. “Do you think they put a curse on us?” She asked fearfully, edging closer to me.

“I really hope not,” I mumbled.

Thomas, being the usual, carefree boy that he was, lifted Olivia off the ground and over his shoulder. “Nah, don’t worry about it,” he chuckled while spinning Olivia around to her glee. “Let’s just enjoy the new life we have here! Firstly by,” he grabbed me around the waist, picking me up. “Enjoying the water!”

“W-wait, Thomas,” I laughed, a hint of panic in my voice as I realized his intentions. “D-Don’t you dare!”

Laughing his loudest, he jumped into the water with the two of us in his arms.

For a few minutes, it did feel like nothing was wrong. Maybe I was just imagining things or thinking too much. Little did I know that this was the last time we would ever see each other alive again.

Something stirring in the water caught our attention and I called for David to quickly take Olivia out of the water.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

I pointed at the shape forming in the water, just peaking its head above the surface. It was...a horse made of water? Whether it was harmless or not, I knew it wasn’t happy with us disturbing its peace in the water and wanted us out immediately. Sensing it rearing up for a charge, I yelled for Thomas to swim away.

“Swim!” Being too far from the ladder back up to the walkway, we swam as fast as we could away from the creature to find any way out of the water, eventually coming to a bridge and small platform hidden away from the water where we easily climbed onto and away from sight.

Strangely, we weren’t alone.

There was a pink Pegasus lying there, gravely injured with a huge gash on its side and blood pooling around it.

But I recognized her, happiness upon the recognition bubbling inside me. As she lifted her head weakly to see who it was that had joined her, I slowly approached her and gently placed my hands on her uninjured back. “Oh my god, it’s you,” I whispered in shock. “What are you doing here? What happened?” Looking up to meet her eyes, she stared at me, unwavering. Afraid that she wasn’t recognizing me, I raised my palm closer to her head for her to smell my scent. Maybe she would recognize me then?

To my joy she nuzzled her face into my palm. ‘Of course I remember you,’ I heard a voice echo in my head.

“Oh! Is this the Pegasus you told me about from before?” Thomas asked, making the connection. Apparently, I had told him about my previous encounter with the magical creature before arriving to the island.

Nodding my head, I searched around for a sharp object. “Man, why is it that whenever I need a knife, I can never find one? She needs my blood to heal faster.” But as I was about to send Thomas off to find one, the Pegasus motioned me over.

‘Here, I’ll do it,’ she offered, and I brought my arms closer to her. She gently bit at my skin, tearing a pinpoint wound on my arm so she could gently lap at the blood trickling out. Almost instantly, I could see the gash healing itself back up and the colour returning to her coat.

She thanked me warmly, warning me that something evil was watching over me and my friends and that if I wasn’t careful, I would lose everything.

[PART III/III]

I was in one of the large churches’ washrooms, the florescent lights above us flickering as I watched a snake strike a cat to death. I held Olivia close to me, holding her face to my stomach to prevent her from seeing. But instead of consuming it, it turned to me, hissed, and slithered away.

Then a gruesome scene flashed in and out in time with the flickering lights, showing me a large pool of blood on the floor and haunting words scrawled on the mirrors warning me of death. Trying to remain calm as not to scare Olivia, I calmly told her that we should give the cat a proper burial.

Wrapping up the body in my jacket, Olivia and walked down the hall towards the cemetery located in a giant courtyard within the church. But the sight of the courtyard terrified me and it wasn’t at all like I remembered it to be.

Instead of neatly mowed grass and organized gravestones, the ground had all been upturned and piled up unevenly, as if there were too many bodies to bury that they were overflowing. The gravestones were all askew and dirt-ridden, many more unmarked crosses overpopulating the area than those with names. The surrounding trees were decaying and brittle, the roots intertwining with the weeds and vines strewn all over.

“Do you want to help me find a open spot to bury the cat?” I asked Olivia, trying to hide the horror in my voice. Completely innocent and unaware of the scenery and what it means, she nodded excitedly, rushing off to find one. I called after her, suddenly afraid. “Wait, don’t run! You’ll fall!”

And fall she did.

I watched her foot get stuck in a particularly soft spot in the mud and her leg sank downwards. Unbalanced, she toppled over onto her back and I gasped in horror as a sharp twig stuck itself straight through her chest.

As if the pain hadn’t registered yet, Olivia blinked in shock, turning to me with a confused look on her face. “Uh...I think I’m hurt,” she coughed tearfully. I rushed over, abandoning the cat’s corpse to the side. Pulling her out, I took off my sweater to make a makeshift support around the object like I remembered in First Aid to keep it from moving. Cradling her in my arms, I screamed out into the empty hallways for help as Olivia fainted.

After some desperate attempts, David rushed down the hall with the girl who had used her glasses from the beginning of it all. “I figured it’s be helpful if I brought David. It looks like snakes don’t like to be around him.”

“Yeah, they seem to just run away from me whenever I walk towards them,” David affirmed, shrugging his shoulders.

“I figured he could protect you as you two find help for the girl.”

The last thing I remember afterwards is sitting in the hospital with a paling Olivia in my arms.

Additional Thoughts:

Oh my god this dream was so loaded that I’m surprised I remembered it all (although I did rush to record this the moment I woke up). Let’s go in order:

I’m not quite sure where the thought of aliens and UFOs came from but apparently they represent unfamiliarity and isolation in dealing with situations. Maybe the whole idea of being shipped to live on a dystopian island is about my feeling really alone these days when dealing with my stress and the insecurities I feel about myself.

The people that appeared in my dream don’t represent anyone in my life, so I’m not sure where they came from either. My suspicion is that they’re physical formations of what I want in my life: a young child that looks up to me and depends on me, a brother-like figure that I can depend on, and a love interest that deeply cares for me and my well-being.

The book I saw could mean my search for knowledge considering the only thing I’ve been doing these days is study for this test. And judging by the chapters in the book, I’m assuming its foretelling has to do with how this test is part of my future and it’s yet to be seen how it’s going to contribute.

I know the horse-shaped water is from what I’ve seen from Frozen 2 (lol) but the Pegasus is definitely new. What was interesting is that my dream me already met with this creature prior to this encounter. I know sometimes my separate dreams bleed into each other with the plot but I can’t remember ever dreaming about a Pegasus before...unless I have and just forgot. Either way, Pegasus apparently represents agility and swiftness, while a “talking horse” is supposed to represent a form of higher knowledge that is trying to convey some sort of message to me from my subconsciousness. Since the colour is supposed to represent something, I wonder if the fact that it was pink and required my blood to heal means something. Maybe it’s a part of me that I need to take care of more?

As for the darker half of my dream involving the snake and the cat’s death, the snake is supposed to mean a sense of fear and worry (which makes sense) and the symbol of a cat dying could represent a loss of individuality and lack of independence. With this combined together, I suppose this could, again, relay back to my test and my worries about it controlling my life and how I’m not able to do the things I want when it’s in my life. The blood everyone and my cries for help for Olivia are also symbols that apparently represent my emotional cry for help as I struggle. Watching her being impaled straight through the chest could mean a burst of emotion as well.

[douxreviews]

Twin Peaks - ‘Pilot’ Review

“Mr. Cooper, you didn’t know Laura Palmer.”

Twin Peaks is both cultish enough and popular enough that there’s a thrill every time one fan meets another—and those thrills aren’t too far between. When it premiered in early 1990, people went wild. Remember when we were all so excited about Lost? Move those conversations to the water coolers instead of the internet, add some hairspray, and that’s about it.

And just like that, it was gone. After the initial adoration, viewers quickly drifted away or were turned off by the more surreal aspects. When the show’s second season finished (completing a total of just 30 episodes), viewership was way, way down. The follow-up movie, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me did okay…and yet the die-hard fans remained as intense as only fans can be.

I only experienced those early days by proxy. I was deemed too young to watch the show (looking back, I agree with that decision, but it made me so angry at the time—if I could watch Murder, She Wrote, why not this?), but my father loved it. My father lets himself get involved in exactly one TV show at a time. Sometimes he picks a clunker—The Event was his choice in this past season, poor guy—and sometimes he strikes gold: 24, Twin Peaks, The Sopranos. Back in the day, he loved Twin Peaks enough to buy the soundtrack, which he frequently played on our family’s only CD player, in the living room. My pre-teen years were scored by Angelo Badalamenti. No wonder I turned out so odd.

My first real Twin Peaks experience was in high school, when the boyfriend recommended we watch the prequel (made after the episodes aired) Fire Walk With Me to prepare for seeing Lost Highway in the theater. FWWM was okay, given that I had no back-story (fore-story?), but Lost Highway was great. It appealed to my desire to dissect things. (Well, not living things. I’m squeamish.)

It took me five years to finally watch Twin Peaks, the series. The only copies in the town I then lived in were on VHS, rented from the tiny independent video store housed in a house. (When they went out of business, I owed them a late fine of $2. I still feel bad about that.) I promptly got the bug, watched the tapes as fast as I could rent them, and theorized like mad with the one person I knew who also liked the show, a kindly bartender. He explained the finale to me over strong drinks, and then I was done with the show. This was before the internet was fun, so it didn’t occur to me to look elsewhere for more theories and speculations, much less a fan community. I haven’t re-watched it in the many years since.

All of that backstory is by way of warning: I’m not a die-hard Peakean. In fact, I don’t even know if TPers have a name for themselves. That’s all information I could easily find out, now that I’m used to spending my days glued to a computer screen, but I’m oddly disinclined to eavesdrop on 20-year-old arguments, get tangled up in sides, camps, or even the dreaded ‘shipper wars that every show has. When I review this show, I want to watch the show and talk about the show. I don’t want to pick sides, start fights, or invest in a SuperDuperGold DVD set. Twin Peaks isn’t that kind of show for me.

What kind of show is it, then? The pilot episode doesn’t do justice to the delightful zaniness that is to come. Frost and Lynch shot the pilot, Lynch did a movie (Wild at Heart), and then Frost and Lynch began work on the first non-pilot episode. The pilot establishes important characters and a few of their relationships. It welcomes us to the town of Twin Peaks, pulls back the lace curtains a bit—but not all the way—and leaves me with a strange impression of humor-laced tragedy. In other words, even in the face of tragedy, people still make bad jokes, still have bizarre personality tics, and generally still live their lives.

That tragedy, of course, is Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee), who is found dead in the show’s opening minutes. Laura Palmer is screen-siren beautiful even in death, and just as inscrutable. We learn in the pilot that she is a homecoming queen who dates the football quarterback, a tutor, and a beloved daughter.

But for some reason, no one seems surprised that she is dead: At the end of the episode, her secret boyfriend James Hurley told Donna, Laura’s best friend, that “It all made some sort of terrible sense that she died.” Even before that, her mother’s panic in the morning when she can’t be found feels like she had been waiting for that moment for months, and her father, once warned of Mama Palmer’s panic, tells the sheriff that his daughter is dead, rather than the other way around. Even the opening lines, when Pete Martell tells Sheriff Truman “She’s dead. Wrapped in plastic,” the first question isn’t “Who?” but “Where?” When Donna (Lara Flynn Boyle) and James (James Marshall) see the police at school, their first thought is of Laura, and their first reaction is to cry.

The overall impression is of a town, and a girl, on the brink. Laura finally tipped over into something—shocking but not surprising itself. The town, meanwhile, continues on its way for a while, but might never be the same. With a population just over 50,000, Twin Peaks may be “a town where a yellow light still means ‘slow down’ instead of ‘speed up,’” but the main industry is intrigue (with a healthy dose of tourism and logs).

And the intrigue industry is definitely impacting the tourist and log economies. The Hornes, who own The Great Northern hotel, are trying to con some Norwegians into building a golf course (with houses), but son Johnny has “mental issues” and daughter Audrey (Sherilyn Fenn) is one breakdown away from a borderline-personality diagnosis. Meanwhile, Benjamin Horne is working with Catherine Martell to take down Josie Packard (Joan Chen), Catherine’s sister-in-law who inherited the mill. The Sheriff is dating Josie Packard, while his friend Big Ed (James’s uncle) is cheating on his crazy wife Nadine with sexy Norma (Peggy Lipton). Norma, of course, is Shelly Johnson’s (Madchen Amick) boss—and Shelly is married to a crazy truck-driving maniac who beats her and just so happens to come home with blood on his shirt after Laura’s death.

While the adults play those games, the teenagers follow suit. Laura was dating Bobby in public and James in private; Donna was dating Bobby’s best friend Mike in public and falls for James in the pilot. Bobby and Mike, unfortunately, are terrible actors: I sometimes wonder if the director just said, “Give up acting! Just stare and vibrate a little without blinking!” This makes their teenage rages and exaggerated misbehavior all the more disturbing, as they seem just like the cartoon villains one would find on a Lifetime special. No wonder Donna’s dad doesn’t let Mike in the house.

In life, that was Laura’s world. Now that she’s dead, her place in that world—and whatever else it might encompass—has to be discovered by a hero, a man who should need no introduction, the greatest detective who ever lived: Special Agent Dale Cooper.

Special Agent Dale Cooper is a straightforward man who appreciates good coffee, good pie, plain speaking…and absolutely loves the process of detection and discovery. In the pilot, some of his smiles seemed horribly inappropriate, until I realized he was So Very Happy that he had found a clue—he is certainly not haunted by Laura Palmer’s death, at least not in any traditional sad-detective way. How he will come to relate to Laura and the circumstances of her death is one of the main arcs of the series.

How the town relates to that death and those circumstances is equally important. In the pilot it emerges that Laura did not die alone: Ronnette Polanski lived through whatever rape and torture killed Laura, but remains comatose. Ronnette gets short shrift in the town’s imagination, perhaps because the cast of characters the show focuses on knew Laura better, perhaps because Ronnette was working-class and Laura came from Twin Peaks’s small aristocracy.

In the pilot, the town is like a live wire. When the kill site is discovered, there’s a quick shot of the train car surrounded by men who aren’t police officers, holding rifles as though they expect the killer to still be inside. The pilot effectively captures the way each member of a small community can be struck differently but with equal virulence by the same tragedy. Likewise, it introduces the idea that no one can really know Laura Palmer, not James the secret boyfriend who claims she wasn’t acting like herself, perhaps not even Donna who claims to know her better than Laura realized. And if we can’t know Laura, perhaps we can’t know anything that’s going on in this tiny town.

Bits and Pieces

• Quick shout-out to the folks at the Sheriff’s Station: Lucy, Andy, Hawk. We’ll see more of them.

• Dr. Jacoby (Russ Tamblyn), wacky shrink, was rubbing a very inappropriate place on his hula-dancer tie.

• Crazy Nadine seems to have a fixation with her drapes.

• The severed moose head on the table in the bank. Yep, it’s a David Lynch TV show.

• Zooming in on an image to catch a reflection of the person taking the film is equally Lynchian, as are the flickering light in the morgue (symbolizes a reality-shift or a personal satori) and the stoplight.

• Diane, to whom Special Agent Dale Cooper dictates his every move and every thought—I do not envy your job.

Clues?

• Laura’s diary entry for a few weeks previous said she was “nervous about meeting J tonight.” Who is J?

• Cooper says that the letter “R” under Laura’s finger matches her case to that of Teresa Banks, a year ago in another part of the state.

• Laura’s half of the broken-heart necklace was found in the traincar on a mound of dirt with a scrap of paper on which was written, in blood, “Fire walk with me.”

• Ronnette Polaski advertised her services in Flesh World, and Laura kept a copy.

• According to James, Bobby had told Laura that he’d killed someone.

For all its atmosphere, the pilot episode of Twin Peaks does not give an accurate picture of where this series is headed—and, trust me, it’s going to some very weird places. Having said that, it does a very impressive job of establishing relationships both covert and overt, and focusing on the two emphases of this show: Laura Palmer and the town itself. The final shots, of an unidentified hand taking James’s half of the heart necklace from the woods, of the stoplight, and of Mrs. Palmer’s sudden screaming as though she has seen something—in the living room? The scene in the woods?—are just a hint of the mysteries to come.

Three and a half out of four Douglas firs.

(Let’s try to keep spoilers for future episodes out of the comments. There might be someone out there who still doesn’t know who killed Laura Palmer.)

Josie Kafka is a full-time cat servant and part-time rogue demon hunter. (What's a rogue demon?)

[ecotone99]

[SP] [FN] The Boy and the Djinn

Thomas looked upon the lamp. It was rusty and old. He had found it in a chest, stashed far into the dusty corners of the attic. Besides the lamp, there was a silver grail with four sapphire gems embedded in it. There was also the tip of a spear and silk sash that gleamed many colours. There he also found a letter, the only passage of the letter with any coherency mentioned the lamp:

... from the city of Antioch. The Magi showed me the lamp and told me how in the age of Solomon creatures called Djinn walked beside us. They had the power of angels, but were granted the freedom of choice just like Man. Men by the time of David and Solomon were waging war upon the Djinn. After a major battle, many Djinn were killed, but the leader and more powerful ones were captured. King Solomon had them trapped in inanimate objects and cursed to grant the wishes of the who so ever held the mastery of the object. Many were destroyed over the years…

Thomas was amazed at the contents of the letter, his gaze falling to the old-looking lamp. He put the letter back into the chest, then grabbed the lamp delicately as if he were grabbing the arc of the covenant.

Formulating a plan he quickly stashed the chest back in its little crock of the attic. Once again hidden from curious and prying eyes. But, making a mental note of its location knowing he would come back to it another time. The lamp he stashed in a pocket of his coat, with great care.

He quietly left the attic. Heading for his room which was on the 2’nd floor, he was currently on the third floor of his family’s Yorkshire estate.

The staircase was but a few guest rooms away and the staff were in another wing of the estate, where his parents were holding a party currently for his elder brother. He knew he would not be missed, at times like this, he was glad for that.

He quickly walked to the stairs. Listening and looking around to make sure none of the servants came looking for him. At the staircase certain no one would be disturbing him, he hopped on the rails sliding down, a large carefree grin on his face. He knew if his mother ever saw she would chew his ear off at his behaviour.

Once at the bottom, he hopped, skipped and ran toward his room. Not having to worry about aristocratic etiquette when no eyes prying at his less than ideal behaviour. When alone he was allowed the privilege to be, just Thomas, a boy with a burning curiosity and a thirst for knowledge. But, when around others he was Thomas the second son, the spare, of the Earl of York. An aristocratic who had to keep up the reputation of his father, family and title. He truly did not enjoy such things.

Once in his room, he took the lamp out of his pocket. He placed it beside his pen and notebook and then went to grab a well of ink.

Thomas sat on an old office chair given to him by his now-deceased grandfather. He dipped his pen in the ink and started writing his observations on the lamp, as well as, on the contents of the letter fresh in his mind. He also drew the lamp from the front, back and sides trying not to miss any important details. After an hour he and several pages filled.

Thomas now leaned in the chair observing the lamp in his hands. On the side, there seemed to be some engravings, which looked like writing. Though there was a lot of dirt and rust to be sure. He used the sleeve of his shirt to try and clean it off and saw two inscriptions one in Arabic and another in Greek. Sadly he could not read Arabic nor Greek. The only thing he could understand was something to do with the number 3, used twice in the inscription.

As Thomas closely inspected the inscription, a cloud of smoke emerged from the lamp. Energy crackled within as it began to take form, a human form. Within a few seconds, the form became that of a woman, one who looked to be from Mesopotamia. Dark hair and eyes, a sharp regal nose and lips in a constant superior smirk.

Thomas who had yet to look away from his inspection of the lamp did not see the creature created from smoke staring down upon him. She coughed to gain his attention.

Thomas jumped in his seat, dropping the lamp and looked about in a frantic motion, before his eyes laid upon the floating women before him.

“So you are the one who had called upon me?” Thomas observed that she spoke with a slight accent that reminded him of gypsies he had seen in London a few weeks back.

“Um, sorry. What do you mean called upon you?”

“That you are the new master of the lamp.” Thomas’s eyes darted to the lamp on his lap, then back to the strange women. His eyes suddenly lit up with curiosity at the woman before him. Remembering the passage from the letter he read he put some of the pieces together.

“A Djinn. You’re a Djinn.”

“Why, yes I am.” Thomas heard the pride in her voice.

“Um, what would your name be, uh, madam Djinn?” She was quite surprised at the question. It was rare to gain a master who saw Djinn as a living being, most just saw them as tools.

“Aisha. My name is Aisha. And what would be your name young man?”

“Thomas, Madam. Thomas Yorkshire the second son of the Earl of York?” Thomas then got off the chair and bowed to the lady, grabbing her hand at kidding it as greeting just as his mother and tutors taught, even if the teaching had to be practically beaten into him.

“Well Thomas, to answer that question in your head, I am Aisha a Djinn. I grant the wishes of whom so ever owns the lamp. As you seem to be the current owner, you are the master whose three wishes I will grant. And yes only three, You may not wish for more wishes.” Aisha still had a blush on her cheeks from the introduction.

Thomas took in the information Aisha had just given him. He sat back down and wondered what it was he could wish for. Thomas was a practical person at times, so the more he thought about the more he realized anything he wished for could just as easily be bought by his parents. “What may I wish for, that I could buy with my wealth?”

“Well maybe you have no material wishes, but what of the immaterial, like power?”

“I am the son of an Earl. Many would do whatever command of them.”

“Come now child, there must be something. Something deep down that you desire. Something you would give up everything to have.”

Thomas thought, and there was. Thoughts of his parents who only seemed to have eyes for his older brother, who was also the heir to the family fortune and titles. Not that those things ever truly interested him. He remembered his Grandfather, who had died only a year prior, who nurtured his curiosity and thirst for knowledge throughout his childhood. After his death, he had been alone. He mostly kept to the company of the library and the many books and tombs within. But, he had no one to share his ideas and discoveries with and he wished to have that again.

Looking Aisha deep within her eyes he told her, “I want a friend, a companion to share everything with. And I want to go on an adventure, just like the ones I read about in my books.”

Aisha cracked her knuckles.” Well, just state those as wishes and we will begin.”

“No,” Thomas stated “I want you to be my friend Aisha. You and I, could go on many adventures and see the world and learn all sorts of knowledge and wisdom together.”

Aisha was again stunned by Thomas’s remark. Most would ask for wishes and be done with it, she would again be trapped in the lamp, awaiting her next master, granting more wishes. But, here this child who knew her for only a few minutes wanted to befriend her.

“Currently my parents are having a party on the other side of the estate, so all the servants are busy. We can sneak out and go to London, then find a ship to our first destination.

“And what, may I ask, would this first destination be?”

“Well, France first, maybe Spain, because I can speak the languages there more easily. But, afterwards, we could go to a few places in the Mediterranean or North Africa, head to Mesopotamia then to Persia and the lands of the great Khan. We could even see the ancient Lands of India and the silk courts of the Chinese Dragon Emperor.”

Aisha could not help but latch on to Thomas’ enthusiasm. All the wonders he talked of seemed so tantalizing to someone who had been trapped in a lamp for a few millennia.

“And, you know how to get us there?” she asked hesitantly.

“Nope, but getting there is half the fun isn’t it. At least that’s what my grandfather would say.”

“Okay then, you get us out of the estate to London and on to a boat and then…?”

“I guess we will see, won’t we?”

“Yes. I guess. Now, pack what you can. Pack light, you will be carrying this yourself.”

“Okay.” Thomas jumped off his chair running in a circle before getting his bearings. He grabbed the explorers’ backpack his GrandFather gave him. Putting in a few sets of clothes, some books, notebooks and pencils, and all the money he had saved up through allowance, which was at least 100 Pounds.

“Okay, get back in the lamp. It's easier to sneak out if there isn’t a person floating over my shoulder.” Aisha snorted but went into the lamp without question.

Thomas looked upon his room, not knowing this would be the last time he would see it in this state. For all he would lose today, he would never regret grabbing the lamp from the attic and the life-changing decision he made on the spot.

Through the years Thomas would make many memories and friends. Go through many trials and tribulations. He would cry in pain and joy, in loss and exhaustion. But he would prevail through it all he would become one of the most learned scholars to walk the earth. Learning natural philosophy, politics, theology, culture, language and much, much more. He would make his own strides in these areas. Coming up with his own theories on religion, culture and the origin of the human race.

Through it all, Aisha would stay beside him getting to see sights she never knew, taste food that was mouth-watering and smell some of the most interesting things, and through Thomas’s intelligence, she gained her freedom when he one day wished her free from her curse.

submitted by /u/Exibit_Viewer [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/3gaz2RA

[battybat-boss]

Dirt to Soil: One Family's Journey Into Regenerative Agriculture

By Dr. Mercola

Gabe Brown is a pioneer in regenerative land management, a holistic strategy that helps restore soil health. Last year, I visited his 5,000-acre farm in Bismarck, North Dakota, on my 63rd birthday. We reviewed many of his techniques in "How to Use Regenerative Farming Principles to Grow Healthier Food in Your Own Garden."

Here, we discuss Brown's book, "Dirt to Soil: One Family's Journey Into Regenerative Agriculture," which expands on the information discussed in that interview.

Brown's farm, which he runs with his wife and son, was founded by his in-laws in 1956. They were conventional farmers, using tillage, monoculture and synthetic fertilizers and herbicides. Brown and his wife purchased the farm in 1991.

"I grew up in town, so agriculture was new to me," Brown says. "I had a couple of degrees from North Dakota State University in animal science and agro-economics. I learned the industrialized, commoditized production model. My father-in-law, when we returned here, also taught me those principles.

Then what happened ... we'd be tilling the soil and watch the top soil blow away. I was always wanting. I couldn't learn enough. I studied and read Allan Savory's work on holistic planned grazing. I read about no-till. I went down the path of changing our grazing model. I bought a no-till drill.

What really changed our lives were four years - 1995 through 1998 - when we lost three crops to devastating hail storms and one crop to a drought. We had four years of basically no cash grain income or no crops to harvest. That put us in pretty dire financial straits. The bank won't loan us money anymore to buy all these expensive inputs.

I had to learn, 'How do I take that dirt that I had at that time and make it into productive soil?' That set me on a 25 plus-year journey - I'm still on that journey - of converting dirt to soil. That's how the book came about.

That got us to the point where we are today, where a group of us spend the majority of our time traveling around North America, trying to teach other producers to take their operations into their own hands and make a difference by producing truly nutrient-dense foods …

I really think God purposely led me down this path and said, 'OK. I'm showing you this to force you into a different type of production model.' That's the model of regenerative agriculture.

I tell people, 'Those four years were the hardest thing we ever could have gone through, but it was absolutely the best thing that could happen to me, because I never would have gone down this path if we had not been a subject to those natural disasters.'"

A Different Way of Seeing

In 1997, Brown met Don Campbell, a rancher from Alberta, Canada. "He said this to me and it stuck with me ever since: 'If you want to make small changes, change the way you do things. But if you want to make major changes, change the way you see things.'"

That made Brown realize he needed to change the way he views soil. It's not just dirt. It's a living, functioning ecosystem. The problem is that most farmers do not treat it as such. He realized that by focusing on what the soil needs to thrive, nutrients are automatically made available to the plants, allowing him to produce nutrient-dense food.

In his book, "Dirt: The Erosion of Civilizations," David Montgomery outlines historical disasters, noting that millions of tons of topsoil erode each year into the Mississippi basin. Globally, some 4 billion tons of this precious resource is lost annually.

The historical precedent is to farm the land until it's used up and then relocate. But we're now getting to the point where there's nowhere left to go. Brown is promoting the transition away from that, teaching ways of optimizing the soil we have.

"An interesting analogy that I like to give that puts it into perspective for people is if you hold up a sheet of paper, just a newspaper or a book, the thickness of that thin sheet of paper is the equivalent of 1 ton of topsoil per acre. If we have a windy day, if you have bare-tilled soil, you're going to lose a ton of topsoil on an acre of land. That's unacceptable …

What we're trying to enable people to see is the fact that we can stop it. It's just a matter of following nature's principles. Let's work with nature to cover the soil, to have green, growing plants, to cycle that carbon out of the atmosphere and put it back in the soil in that cycle where it belongs. It will lead to the betterment of all society and all ecosystems," Brown says.

At present, less than 5 percent of farmers and ranchers worldwide have adopted these practices, but growth is exponential. Regenerative farming is now doubling every year. "Those of us who are out touting the benefits of regenerative agriculture are overwhelmed with producers who want to make a change," Brown says.

The Rural Crisis

According to Brown, there's a real crisis going on in rural America right now, with suicide rates being at an all-time high among farmers and ranchers. Most are struggling financially as a result of low commodity prices and overproduction of basic commodities, and this crisis is proof positive that the current production model is not working.

"We're in this production model where it's all about pounds and yield, and it's not about producing truly nutrient-dense foods in a way that can regenerate our ecosystem. We have to change this model," he says.

Aside from changing mindsets about how to produce food, Brown is also teaching farmers how to become true entrepreneurs; how to actually get their goods to consumers.

"One of the things we do on our operation is we have an open-door policy, meaning any person can drive on our ranch at any time and look at anything they want. To me, that's the best.

You can have all these labels and standards, but if people see it with their own eyes, if they get to know the farmer or rancher and see what we do, see how we care for our animals, see how we care for the soil, that builds trust.

Once they taste the product and their bodies will be satiated - their bodies will know, 'This is good. This is nutrient-dense. I want it,' and then they're a customer for life."

Five Principles of a Healthy Soil Ecosystem

One of the benefits of the regenerative methods Brown teaches is the retention of moisture. Last year, they got just 5.6 inches of rainfall. But if you focus on the symbiosis between plants and soil, dry spells can be tolerated. To have healthy plants, you need healthy soil, and by viewing the soil as an ecosystem, you can tremendously increase the water holding capacity of the soil.

The key is to concentrate on what the soil needs first, and this is true whether you're working a small backyard garden or a large farm. As explained by Brown, there are five principles of a healthy soil ecosystem. The type of livestock, the equipment and varieties of crops may vary, but the principles remain the same:

1. Use the least amount of mechanical or chemical disturbance possible - Keep tilling to a bare minimum and strive to avoid all synthetic fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides and fungicides.

The more you till, the faster the soil degrades and is destroyed, as it destroys soil aggregates and mycorrhizal fungi, which houses the microorganisms needed for nutrient transfer. Similarly, by adding synthetic nitrogen to the soil, the biology is radically altered - it starts consuming carbon in the soil aggregate, which destroys the soil structure.

And without soil structure water cannot infiltrate, move throughout the soil profile and be stored via organic matter. The soil aggregates also provide the home for soil biology which is critical to producing nutrient dense food.

2. Armor the soil surface with living plants - Forest and prairie land is completely covered with vegetation, and this is the environment farmers need to emulate. That vegetation protects the soil not only from wind and water erosion, but also from excessive heating and cooling. These living plants are what end up actually "growing" topsoil.

3. Have living roots in the soil as long as possible - This is an extension of armoring with cover crops. Soil is formed from growing plants that take in carbon dioxide (CO2) from the atmosphere through photosynthesis, and release it as "liquid carbon" through the roots, depositing it back into the soil, where it attracts microorganisms that ultimately end up providing the plant with all the nutrients it needs to grow.

So, to grow topsoil, you need living roots in the soil for as long as possible throughout the year to keep the carbon cycle going, and to feed the biology in the soil.

4. Diversify - Having a diverse array of plant life is essential, and cover crops fulfill this requirement as well. Home gardens will also benefit from cover crops, helping to improve the soil, attract beneficial insects and capture more sunlight (energy). Brown explains:

"We'll plant corn, but then along with the corn, there will be vetches, clovers and understory growing underneath that corn. We're not only feeding the soil microorganisms from the root exudates of that corn plant, but also from all these legumes. And then the legumes help take atmospheric nitrogen and provide it to the corn plant.

People think those other plants will compete with the corn crop, but nature doesn't work that way. Nature is much more collaborative than competitive.

We do the same thing in our garden. We will have a row of sweet corn, but right next to it, we'll have a row of peas, and on the other side, a row of beans. The row may be a monoculture crop, but growing together are all these different species and flowering species attracting all the pollinators and the predator insects.

We haven't used pesticide on our ranch in over 20 years. The reason is there's no need to. We have the predator insects that keep the pests in balance. There are 1,700 beneficial species of insects for every species that is a pest."

5. Integrate livestock and other animals, including insects - Flowering plants that attract pollinators and predator insects will naturally help ward off pests that might otherwise decimate your main crop.

While many believe livestock are contributing to the climate change problem, it's important to realize this is only true for animals raised in concentrated animal feeding operations (CAFOs). Allowing animals to graze freely is actually part of the solution.

Centuries ago, large herds of bison and elk moved across the landscape, foraging, depositing manure and trampling vegetation into the ground. All of this is part of the natural cycle that is missing when animals are kept in CAFOs.

As noted by Brown, "If we remove the animals from the ecosystem, we can grow a plant and we can pump some carbon into the soil, but not nearly as much as if we have animals grazing. So that's the two keys: living plants, and then we have to integrate animals again."

CAFO cattle produce methane, which is destructive to ozone, but the reason they produce methane is because they're raised on an unnatural diet of grains, which they're not designed to eat. This unnatural diet alters the gut microbiome in the animals. So, it's the model by which they're being raised that is causing the problem. Brown explains:

"Methanotrophs are organisms that feed on methane that livestock expel. As an animal is out grazing, these methanotrophs take care of that methane. Well, we don't have that in the feed lots and in confinement. There are no methanotrophs.

The other thing is the fossil fuel usage to produce and harvest all of the grains … It's a tremendous fossil fuel usage that we can get away from if we switch to a more regenerative production model."

Yes, It Is Possible for Animals to Graze Through Winters

Most people think it's impossible to raise a grass fed animal in the winter, especially in North Dakota, but that's not true. Cattle can be raised on grass anywhere, year-round. Brown explains:

"Animals adapt to the environment. Our cattle graze for the majority of the year. In fact, some winters, we're able to literally graze through the whole year without feeding any processed feeds. We do get some major blizzards here. At those times, we're prepared.

We put up some forage and hay bales, but we leave them out on the land where that forage was growing. And then our cattle graze on those bales at such time when they can't physically graze grass.

By leaving the hay bales out there, the cattle are grazing there. They leave their manure there. The nutrients from the bale are left right there, so it's adding carbon to the ecosystem. It's a process that keeps that land healthy. Carbon is the most limiting factor in production agriculture today. Also, it is much healthier for the animal to be out grazing rather than being confined in a CAFO."

Repopulating the Ecosystem

Soil is not the only thing that benefits from regenerative land management. Wildlife also diversifies and is augmented. When Brown and his family took over the farm, they never saw deer or pheasants. Sightings of songbirds and grouse were minimal.

Today, he can sit on his porch any evening of the week and count up to 100 deer on his land. Pheasants, hawks, owls, grouse, partridge and myriad songbirds have moved in. Last year, the Audubon Society did bird surveys on his land and found nesting piping plover, an endangered species of shorebird. They figured that should be impossible, as these birds nest near rivers and beaches, yet the nearest river is 10 miles away.

"If you build it, they will come," Brown says. "These animals, insects and birds, they all know what's healthy. They know what they need as far as habitat and food to survive. It's a wonderful thing to be able to see all that life on one's farm or ranch.

A few years ago, I had one field that was 30 acres of corn, but it was nongenetically modified (GMO) corn, open-pollinated, no synthetics on it, no pesticides, because we just don't use any of that. My neighbor had 600 acres of corn right next to me.

Well, every evening, up to 75 deer would walk out of his corn, where they had bedded during the day, walk over half a mile to my field, and that's where they would eat. If that doesn't tell you something, I don't know what does."

How the USDA Farm Program Blocks Progress

As mentioned, regenerative farming is growing exponentially. It could grow even faster, were it not for the U.S. Department of Agriculture and the current farm program, which subsidizes junk food ingredients. The farm program also offers revenue insurance or crop insurance to farmers, but there are strings attached.

If you want crop insurance and subsidies, you have to use the current production model, meaning you have to grow single crops (monocultures), and production is completely focused on yield. No attention is paid to the impact on the soil or the ecosystem at large.

What's worse, farmers may find it difficult to get a loan unless they take part in this program, and if they do, the program dictates which crops will give them the greatest revenue insurance, meaning guarantee them a certain price.

Needless to say, farmers will grow whatever crop is going to give them the greatest financial return, be it corn, soybeans, cotton or spring wheat. As a result, price is driven down due to overproduction, while simultaneously degrading our soil resources.

"This is the vortex farmers and ranchers are in. They're stuck in a hamster wheel going nowhere," Brown says. "My book is the story of our journey and what we did to get out of that trap, what we did to take control of our own destiny.

Instead of relying on the government to dictate these things, let's be a price maker instead of a price taker. Let's do it in a way that we can regenerate our resources …

The mantra lately for many companies is, 'We want to be sustainable.' I tell farmers and ranchers, 'Why in the world would we want to sustain a degraded resource? We can't afford to be sustainable. We have to be regenerative.' The five principles I share in this book are those that will empower people to be regenerative."

Twofold Change Needed

As noted by Brown, the change we need is twofold. First, farmers and ranchers must decide to make a change. To help them do that, Brown and his partners at Soil Health Consultants formed the Soil Health Academy.

They travel around the world teaching farmers how to take control of their own destiny. Second, consumers must demand change. You must demand nutrient-dense foods rather than empty calories.

"Consumers, through their buying dollars, can vote and say, 'Hey, I'm only going to spend my buying dollar at those farms and ranches that are producing nutrient-dense food.' When consumers are educated enough to spend their money that way, that will truly change production agriculture," Brown says.

"Now, I'm just going to make a prediction. I talk about the principle of diversity and how people have been growing monoculture cash crops. We're seeing some very exciting things occurring right now with what's called 'polyculture cash crops.'

A farmer wouldn't just plant one crop in his field, he'll plant several species together. That creates these synergies, feeding soil biology, cycling more carbon from the atmosphere into the soil, and increases the profitability for the farmer …

I think it's going to grow very quickly. It can't happen soon enough in my book … And I would like people all over the world to start supporting local. Buy local. Get to know your farmer or rancher."

More Information

If you're a farmer, you can contact Brown's group, Soil Health Consultants. They recently launched a new website where you can find a lot of information on regenerative agriculture. Also be sure to pick up a copy of Brown's book, "Dirt to Soil: One Family's Journey Into Regenerative Agriculture," in which you'll learn more about the core principles.

"Most importantly, there are people using these practices in every country all over the world. Seek them out," Brown says. "One of the things we like to teach people is that this has multiple ramifications. We take carbon out of the atmosphere using regenerative agriculture principles.

We hold nutrients on the farms and ranches, instead of having them [contribute to] the dead zone in the Gulf and the problems with the drinking water in the Great Lakes, and the shortage of water in the Southwestern United States.

We can heal the water cycle. We can heal the nutrient cycle. We're going to produce more nutrient-dense food. We're going to have a healthier society because of this. This has ramifications across many fronts. We're not talking about simply farmers, ranchers and gardeners here. We're talking about all society…

I encourage people to take it upon themselves. I end my book with a story about a lady in the inner city who called me, asking what she can do to produce healthy, nutrient-dense food for the children in the inner city.

I challenge the readers who are reading my book to do something. If you're a consumer, vote with your buying dollar. If you're a farmer or a rancher or a gardener, do something in the practices you use to produce nutrient-dense food. But all of us can make a difference."