#I'm tired of them asserting their own point of view as the only one and I'm tired of them talking over everyone else to do so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

empressxmachina · 6 years ago

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by Imperial-Radiance (that’s me)

1|1: Faux Pas, part 1, is also on Wattpad.

"All the shit we do, and this doesn't get any easier."

"It's only because no one does it like we do or... or, ugh, at all, really."

The Center of Colors, the most marveled museum of art in all of Oswana if not the entire world, was a fortress in its own right, and all attempts by a not-so-young maho madam to push open the one door inside it that led to its underground car park were to no avail. The age of the door was a blink in comparison to the building that housed it. Looking past that, it still was not used as proportionally often as originally designed due to 'more preferred' transit options for safety reasons. But, with the particular event taking place there – the biannual meeting of the Continental Couturiers' Council – and a certain, small minority quickly rising up its rankings, putting some oil on the door hinges would have been the easiest courtesy.

Yet, here this lady was, having to force all her might just from an unlocked but still stuck door, adding to the lengthy list of surprises of the night. But she wasn't alone in the struggle.

"Uh, Mel?" a concerned Lyanna expressed, quickly simmering down her tense self after seeing how roughly her best friend was fumbling with the push bar. "You good?"

"Come on! Really!?" Melanie continued to grunt, not allowing herself to give in so quickly, even if it possibly ruined her blazer in the process – not the best look at a fashion event. "What is this!?"

"Damn. If Miss 'Moore Gains, Moore Power' can't open the thing, it really must be tight," Lyanna claimed in jest. She, despite being in similar, unfortunately-formal-for-the-task fashion, joined Melanie's efforts at her side, groaning as she repeatedly rammed her upper arm into the surface like a linebacker. "Maybe, urgh... Lanky Ly can be... a little help."

Melanie was all for the assistance, especially given all the reasons she had to not expect it. But, getting it with a shaded humblebrag, even if jokingly, was not going to happen. A critical look was sent Lyanna's way in protest, and sassy yet complimentary projections soon were, too.

"'Lanky', my ass. How many ball sports... did you say you... played in school again? How many of them... weren't co-ed... before you joined? Which one of us... qualified for... for the... Superhero Circuit... over thirty... on accident!?"

It only took the first rebuttal for Lyanna to regret making her lighthearted comment at all. But, like the mature woman she was, she took it in stride with an apology.

"Okay, okay. I get it!" she stretched through more grouses of strain. "I'm sorry. You happy?" Melanie paused her own pushes for a second to shine a grin at her buddy that epitomized 'I told you so'. Her receiving a set of rolling eyes and a scoff back followed right after, paired with Lyanna taking her exertion efforts to the next level. "But," she resumed, feeling her shoulders start to slide out their sockets, "my athleticism... means nothing if... if it can't help us... get through... the fucking... DOOR!"

Giving in to all of the pressure, the bar lock finally began to budge. However, no one, especially not the designers of the door, ever figured for that much force, let alone by two, tired maho ladies, to be spread across the bar like that. They had much more strength than they realized, or the door was weaker than expected, and before they knew what they were doing, the door flew open out of their grasp, echoing with Lyanna's voice into the mostly empty garage as it slammed into the wall.

Inertia sent Lyanna and Melanie forward, unable to keep balance on their skinny, high heels. Melanie, closer to the hinges, managed to catch herself on a nearby parking barrier, but Lyanna found her stopping place not on the ground or on a structure but instead in the arms of an awaiting security guard.

"Got ya, ma'am," the uniform-donning young man assured with a slight strain in his voice upon catching her. "Are... Are you alright?"

Lyanna sneered at his brief struggle, knowing fully well that she wasn't that heavy until she realized it was not due to her at all, at least not completely. In the distance, the door to the office where all of the watching camera footage was housed was wide open with most screens showing the three of them right then. If he had been watching the ladies' struggles until not long ago and decided to help for himself, then he would've had to run to reach them in time. Looking at his tired but quickly recovering state, he probably did that, just slightly too late and switching to a catcher's role in the heat of the moment.

Getting over the drama of it all, Lyanna gave her savior some solace as she rose and composed herself. "Yes, thank you. I... I'm fine."

"Not as much as you, cutie pie," Melanie winked at the guard with her down-home charm, to which he returned a bashful gasp. "What's a handsome soul like yourself doing out on the town late on a weekend alone, guarding C-Cubed at CC, no less?"

"I, uh," the young lad had trouble finding the right words.

On one hand, getting a compliment was always nice, especially if both lighthearted and likely to result in an extra tip. On the other hand, if he egged it on too much, then it'd just be asking for a bunch of double-sided trouble for way too many reasons to count. Aware that he couldn't leave her hanging, he replied with something reasonable in between.

"I-I'm just working to pay for school, ma'am, getting what I can, whenever I can." He smoothed the wrinkles in his suit, hoping to worsen his seemingly bad first impression. "I'm not even a guard. I'm more like a concierge, though I can drive people around, too, so I don't even know if that's even the right term." He quickly recognized he was right on the cusp of rambling about his nondescript job position and soon reverted to a more robotic, reserved offer. "A-Anyway, shall I call you two a car?"

"You can do better than that," Lyanna surprisingly interjected, stretching her back with a backward, propped bend. "I'll call your bluff. Drive us home, then. The two of us aren't too much for you in this big city, are we?"

If Melanie's comment sent blood to the guy's face, then Lyanna's did the opposite, blanching it bright from assertive surprise. Though, knowing who they were and what they were known for, such responses were expected in the back of his mind. Nonetheless, he caught Lyanna's declaration of the challenge and accepted it.

"Let me, uh, just grab a key from the station," he stated, pointing back toward the office, "and we'll be on our way. Choose any one of the vehicles by the wall you like, and I'll meet you there."

Like a hummingbird, he zoomed away to grab the nectar of his choosing, leaving the two ladies to converse and corner a car... all the while cutting each other down.

"You were not just charming that child, were you?" Lyanna pressed, strutting over to her friend. "He's young enough to be either of our children, and I know you're not that crazy."

"Of course not, you dunce," Melanie defended, with an eye roll, offended being typecast from a simple false flirtation. "Like I'd court a kid to have a good time." She managed to get a chuckle out of her best friend as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the back of one of the vans. "I'm trying to make that young man into a mannequin. You don't think he'd be a good look for the new line?"

"It's less that and more 'You couldn't have asked more normally?'"

"What's more fitting than looking for fashion models at a meeting for fashion designers?"

"I don't know, giving out a business card and telling him to call you at a normal hour? Damn it!" For a second, Melanie thought that Lyanna was actually mad at her. But the pause just turned out to be a dramatic one, replaced by more giggles. "Damn you, innovative bitch."

Melanie soon joined into the laughing fit. "You know it. See? I'm always making money moves, even if people don't agree with my vision."

Her wording was too specific for it to not be related to and reignite the tensions acclimated over the duration of the meeting she had to hide behind glossy lips and gritting teeth. "We're back to talking about what we were before we found ourselves fighting the architecture, huh?"

"We do too much for too little reward, apparently. Is that what you said?"

"Not... exactly," Lyanna hissed, clicking every T with purpose, "but you're not wrong, either." Leaning back against the trunk, thankful for a siren not going off in the process, she looked up at the ceiling and processed her thoughts. Her memories of the evening.

Drinks. Hors d'oeuvres. Designs for two seasons from now. It wasn't much different than usual. Lyanna's peers had finally gotten used to how she ran her business after so many years of it 'not evolving' except in styles. But it was just tolerance rather than full-on acceptance, and the constant stares and murmurs that they seemed to throw in overtime toward her tonight garnered an equal reaction back: allowed but never wanted.

The worst part of it, aside from the blatant prejudice behind Lyanna's doings, was that they never considered why she does it. Seeing things from her and maybe Melanie's views would be more help than harm. Though, given how they got where they were, they'd forever be oblivious unless she made a scene.

While the two prim pals measured the parking deck to easily house multiple homes, it was barely worthy of an under-bed shoe organizer to the khadra: the larger, other halves opposite their maho selves with whom they shared the world. Well, their nation, at least. One couldn't be sure about the rest of the planet nowadays. Even so, everything Lyanna lived and worked for, no matter how high she rose, would forever be under their noses, perhaps even underfoot.

Simply thinking back to the dastardly door, once again, only made her more upset, remembering how it was basically a metal slab wedged within floor molding shadowed by a nearby stand. The Council could've paid someone to at least act like a security for smaller folk, but the fact that the Center kept their half of the deal was a little reassuring.

Probably one-twelfth of what her full pleasure banks could hold: the standard fraction.

"Sure, we get flooded in respect for our abilities," Lyanna commented, still gazing toward the above ground, "but it's just a cop-out. The collabs we do are never enough; they want more out of us. It's like they assume we have to give them everything not because they deserve it or because it's right but because they're fucking—"

"Ah, here we go," the young guard cut in, to Melanie's favor. Having known her bestie for two decades, she knew he had shown up right on time and prevented an imminent Lyanna explosion. Jiggling his keychain with a glowing smile as he unlocked the van's doors, sidewinding the looks of respective relief and heat diffusion on the ladies' faces, he was completely none the wiser. "We're ready for action. If you'd allow me..."

Continuing his act like a gentleman, he opened the doors for the two women, first Lyanna on the passenger's side of the backseat and then Melanie seated right behind him. Considering they thought they were simply in for a glorified taxi cab ride, they had quite the shock seeing how decked up the innards of the vehicle were. It wasn't a party bus or anything resembling a limo rented for a promenade, but the selection of fun-sized snacks, drinks, and reading material, on top of how comfy the seats and lighting were, was a sight to behold.

The ladies were greatly impressed all around, quickly sharing a look of wonder with each other, but the oblivious driver wouldn't be able to see that, focused only on the job at hand. Plus, the sight of Melanie on her phone and Lyanna already sipping on a tiny water bottle as she looked out her window gave no hint to it, whatsoever. He was happy to see them fully adjusted, totally bounced back from their tumbles and fumbles, and it irked him that he might break that calmness for the last necessities of his job.

"I do apologize for this, but I almost forgot," he said, looking in the rear-view mirror at them as he started the engine. "The Center of Colors has this policy where the drivers have to get crossed confirmations for—" His declaration faltered at the ladies' look of confusion at his jargon, thus needing clarification in common, much more comfortable language. "Basically, they want two forms of authorization for each passenger. Usually, a quick clip where you say your name or something like that should be fine. I know who you are, and I'm sure most others do, too, but it's the tradition. If you wouldn't mind...." He pressed a button on his controls and started recording, signaled by a light on his rear-view mirror and a mechanical bloopy noise. "...giving a quick roll call."

The two thirty-somethings looked at each other, both not saying a word and both testing each other to see who would crack first. After what felt like forever, emphasized by the driver's nervous coughing and wheel tapping to crack the silence, and in a noble act of succession, the first to introduce themselves was,

"Melanie Moore."

Melanie Moore. Chief marketing officer. Queen of advertising. Flirtatious firecracker. Part-time yogi. Slayer of Oswanian style boundaries with her pop-up collections like her golden-hued 'Code Mellow'. C-Cubed's 'Best New Designer' a few years ago because of them. She was happy to have made a name for herself, specifically under her own name, but she knew and never denied that she'd never be where she was if it weren't for,

"Lyanna Paulson." Lyanna fucking Paulson.

Naturally a brunette. Currently a blonde. Visible exercise and sports fanatic. Drink connoisseur. A flash celebrity made in the blink of an eye all based on luck. The epitome of nouveau riche. The youngest member to have been inducted into C-Cubed (and receive its BND award like Melanie) back when she was twenty-four. The Designer of the Year not long after. Melanie's best friend. Also, Melanie's boss, technically, but she rarely states that aloud. She was a lot of things and known for many more. But she was a household name for two.

Her fashion and design company 'Moonsong', along with its occasional luxury dabbles via 'Lunar Serenade', was going fifteen years strong with top sales and quality. Yet, in all of those fifteen years, with the exception of collaborations with industry peers and the even more occasional one-offs, every product was strictly for maho, leading to an aura of presumed racism constantly washing over her.

The two buddies bickered back and forth on the openness of their projects to those that towered over them, each having solid reasons for their views. But, with Lyanna having more say and severity, it always went her way. The threats and attempts of harm that were sent her way in the beginning when people realized her khadra-closed doors weren't just a phase, along with a few every now and then, weren't fun to experience. But even her miffed adversaries and confused familiars had to give her props for standing her ground and defending the safety of her staff, and each trouble always seemed to dissipate as quickly as it came.

That, and all of her giving back to just as many khadran causes as native maho ones helped, but people just seemed to always gloss over that.

Lyanna, even with her brief smile into the camera and mic, was still fuming from the event, and thinking of all her conflicts leading up to it wasn't making it better. Luckily for her, Driver Boy seemed to catch that, even with his back turned. Pushing her was the last thing he wanted to do. He just hoped his body could follow his heart and mind.

"I, uh..." he struggled to speak at first, seeing the coldness in Lyanna's eyes as she gazed into the camera. But that soon passed over, and his goal to make sure the drive did the same launched in full force. "I know you two must be looking for privacy going through the garage," he observed. "It's good that I know some scenic routes around the city. So, please make yourselves comfortable, and enjoy the ride."

Melanie had already found her way back to phone diving toward whatever as the van left the safety of the parking deck and, for the pair of couturiers, waved goodbye to C-Cubed for six months. The carpooling posse simultaneously passed under the art museum's overly cheerful exit sign, getting an eye roll of her own out of Lyanna.

'Thank you for visiting the Center of Colors!' it expectantly exclaimed. That farewell stayed still on the sign, but its lower half in all its mechanical glory had to show off, switching between presumably planned puns every few seconds. The trio managed to go under just as one went off – 'We hope to color you impressed once again really soon!' – and another took its place – 'May we brighten your day with flying colors upon your return!'

The wish for any sort of spectrum wasn't necessary as the aura around was still lively and beaming, perhaps being that last thing Lyanna's somewhat buzzed, water-guzzling person needed in her face.

"Hello, Xesant," she sarcastically greeted the outside world. "Glad to see you're still lively on a Sunday night." From its art-bordering white LEDs to the rainbow of marquees and HIDs along the streets, it was back to the big city they knew so well yet still a long way from home.

Xesant. A city nearly ten million strong by itself, and it looked like all of those citizens had filled the sidewalks like a sardine tin. A gem of Oswana, the city was, despite not being its capital. Half a tourist trap and half a modern marvel... and everything no one would've thought Lyanna would've submerged herself in for two decades. Luckily, she had Melanie by her side through it all, but she only eased the tension, not rid her of it.

She'd never be rid of it as long as she lived there.

Oswana was right at, if not itself being, the intersection of the planet's two historically opposite halves together: the more land- and khadra-filled northern Drakh and the sparser southern Hoemue with the maho. Time followed its course, and the communities came together, finally coalescing at the major metropolis literally on the equator between them: Lyanna's anxiety-driving abode.

Out of all the places in the world, Oswana, especially Xesant, had managed to optimize integration to a T, and it still amazed Lyanna after twenty years seeing it all work in action. It just made no sense in her head.

Watching vehicles and souls that were the size of houses pass by so strongly yet swiftly and never be in the way. Alternating stoplights and substitute paths for both sizes for undisrupted travel. Mismatched yet complementary pairs of windows, doors, and on every building for everyone to have a place to take in their surroundings. Blended groups – a surprisingly large minority – somehow walking in pace with each other, neither too fast nor too slow.

That one khadran girl crossing directly in front of the van – shoes taller and possibly heavier than the vehicle itself – with a maho in hand, losing her balance, and managing to fall with a resonating thud toward the Moonsong troupe with both her companion safely cupped to the chest and all her long and loose limbs snaking between all the tiny cars, including their van, on their side of the road.

All of this at once, emphasized by a cacophony of horn blaring and muffled, concerned voices. Yet, as Lyanna drank her way through more than a handful of bottles in seconds at the sights, the driver didn't even flinch, and Melanie may not have even noticed. Her lockage in her phone was made even more apparent by her following statement, cracking the lull of silence within their four, glass-peeking walls.

"Oh, look," she announced, sliding her phone over to Lyanna's vista. "In case you cared..."

With her nonchalant tone and apparent lack of awareness for her surroundings, even as the driver drove around the still collapsed cohorts, one could've assumed she found an article pertaining to the current slip and trip debacle outside that looked a lot like fake news if it weren't actually true. However, her carelessness was genuinely due to the routine with C-Cubed finally updating their social media and website with details from the meeting's latter half. What particularly caught Melanie's and now Lyanna's eyes was the results of the unimportant-aside-from-a-trophy, aptly named superlative voting, 'In Case You Cared'.

Lyanna usually didn't care enough to view them as soon as they were posted, regardless of having voted herself, mainly waiting until the next morning to see what any newcomers had to offer. However, with Melanie thrusting them in her face, she knew it had to be something interesting. Lo and behold,

"Congrats, Ms. 'Styled and Profiled,'" Melanie praised her bestie, who looked more or less unenthused except for an eyebrow raise. The 'Styled and Profiled' Award. Something between Best Dressed and Most Pulled Together, in the corporate sense. At least, that's what they said it meant. "The glassware company for the awards should just sponsor you at this point. Damn. What is this, your third time getting this? Fourth?"

"Seventh," Lyanna lifelessly corrected, pushing the phone away, "not that it matters." Considering how many times Lyanna earned it, with her reputation, it was probably neither in reality. "Your look is way better than mine. This was probably a brownnosing move, trying to be hyperaware of the culture or whatever."

Melanie chuckled at first at her snide remarks, until she reviewed exactly what Lyanna had said. With every word, she found more and more wrong with her perspective. Was she self-deprecating? Did she genuinely think she was right? What the fuck did she mean by them being 'hyper-aware' of her when no one other than them two knew why someone would even have to be? Melanie retracted her phone and sat in her seat, waiting for any clarifications, but none came, leaving her to ponder for herself with a stony stare. Unfortunately, as much as she tried to do otherwise, only unsavory ideas came to mind. For Lyanna's sake, Melanie hoped, if they turned out to be true, they weren't due to—

"Excuse me, Ms. Paulson, if I may..." Before Melanie had a chance to rebuke, question, or instantly judge her friend's suspicious commentary, the driver felt the need to interject. Luckily for all involved, it had no faults and raised the subconscious heating mood. "...I think you look great."

Lyanna's brows raised at the compliment, and Melanie joined her in shock, though she was more impressed as his bravery in speaking out of turn. He didn't realize that meaning upon looking back at them, seeing their expressions. He figured they were from him only recognizing one of them as opposed to both, and thus he made an addendum.

"N-Not that you don't, too, Ms. Moore," he nervously saved his hide, spouting a just-as-shy smile. "I just—Uh... you both probably earned it, okay?"

Lyanna's face stayed blank, but the driver immediately blushed at the sound of a tip being sent to his phone. Looking behind him to Lyanna's left, Melanie wore a grin of her own as her phone confirmed a scanned QR code and a quick transfer of payment.

"You're already paying him when he hasn't even signed on, yet?" Lyanna inquired, shooting the driver a smug look before turning toward the window... and cringing again at the mongrelized mania of it all. "But, hey, at least you have a good eye on you, wanting to represent the company with people that actually wear our stuff."

The redness on said subject's face instantly flushed back to his natural pallor. From a distance, there was nothing that discerned his uniform from that of any other worker at the Center of Colors. In fact, his pants and polo combo were exactly the same as any other's. But each soul was allowed a few extra freedoms employees had via accessories, body modifying, etc., and he did take part in that. As subtle as he tried to be in doing so, there were sprinkles of a certain brand down his person.

There was no way for them to go unnoticed by their head designers...especially with their owner catching them in his arms as a first impression.

"Uh, yeah," Melanie replied matter-of-factly. "He obviously knows how to read a room, er, van... and speaking of..." Going restless, once again, Melanie relocated to her seat's edge, setting a hand on the driver's chair back. "Hey, uh, I don't think you actually introduced yourself. What did your code say? Bryan? Bradley?"

"Br-Brenden, actually," the driver corrected, at least relinquishing anonymity. "I can't believe you noticed my gear."

He ran a hand across the small charm at the helix piercing on his left ear that matched a ring on his opposite hand, both pieces from a years-old collection. He would've twirled his feet and ankles around, too, showing off their extremely new shoes, both in age and ownership, but driving kept them still. The job correspondingly reminded him of a concern that was sure to get him penalized if he didn't address it soon.

"I also can't believe I haven't asked where I'm supposed to take you two," he chuckled, attempting to hide the ringing of his inner panic alarm. "Where did you have in mind? The Moonsong office?"

The ladies looked at each other briefly – Melanie slumping back again to face Lyanna head-on – to make a choice. The mistress of marketing implied, "I wouldn't mind heading there. It's not like we can do a late- or half-day tomorrow if we run super late doing random bullshit." A smirk briefly popped on Lyanna's mug. "Though," Melanie then countered, thus dropping said smile, "there were some, uh, biz things... I wanted to talk to you about."

"And, it's nothing you can't screen me at home?" Lyanna fought. By her tone alone, Melanie knew her idea had pancaked. "Mel, I love you, but I want to go home, sleep, and forget today."

The night had gone somewhat uncomfortably for them both, despite Lyanna's award, so she couldn't be blamed for not wanting to deal with anything anymore. But, Melanie shuddered, knowing how much more difficult things were going to become from it. She didn't want to make it worse, so she kept it to herself.

"A-Alright," she conceded. "I still want to head there. Your place in deeper inward, anyway, so I can get Brenden here to circle around and stop on by for a bit before going back to CC." A mutter of acceptance poked out of Lyanna before Melanie, at last, gave Brenden a destination. "Just head on over to T-Sa if you can, please. At least close enough to where Ly won't fall on her face if she'll need to walk."

The implication of inebriation was concerning, and the increased reference to some Moonsong deal was hyped as hell, but of all things to catch Brenden's attention, Lyanna's home was the showstopper. A fitting one but a surprise, nonetheless.

"You live at Sat Ave!?" he gasped, beaming through the rear-view mirror at her.

T-Sa. Sat Ave. Ten Saturn Avenue. One of the ritziest and private locales in all of Oswana, in spite of it being one of the most noticeable silhouettes in the lower Xesant skyline. Lower mutually in latitude and the height of its inhabitants. Only maho allowed. It was a sight to behold, but to Lyanna, it was the one place she could call her own. A fortress to be reckoned with. Literally.

"If you say anything," Lyanna hissed, jerking her eyes to Brendan's with a glower that could crack glass, "I will end you."

"Uh... I... N-Noted." Like the lapdog he was and now felt like, too, he complied, focusing back on the roads, pinning down the complex in his mental GPS, and heading on his way.

Melanie groaned at Lyanna's aggression, but rather than calling it out, she simply rolled her eyes and let it be. After all, from what it looked like, she had a long night ahead of her, and all of her energy should be saved for then. Well, most of it. The quietness that had encroached in the van quickly grew uncomfortable, leading to soft small talk between the driver and the fully-present passenger.

Lyanna let her eyes close, taking away the towering shadows and reverberations of titanic travel on all sides. The escapism, though brief, was blissful, opening opportunities to ponder plans for the upcoming week and beyond.

As they distanced themselves from downtown, the ratio of khadra decreased to nothing. The signs and sights of the borough where she burrowed on the daily shined to greet its golden girl. Through her slumber, it was easy to see her body adjust to its most familiar surroundings. Perfect tranquility... but it, unfortunately, had to end.

Brenden pulled into the drop-off lane of Ten Saturn Avenue, where a doorperson approached the van to help her out before halting and waiting outside her door, made aware of her still napping self. Melanie, risking a slapping fit her way, bit the bullet and rocked Lyanna back to the real world. Her waking softness resembled that of a baby; however, her too-old-for-this-shit sentimentalities soon broke through, along with the groan-inducing headaches that should've been here a long time ago.

"Welcome back, L.P.," Melanie greeted, thanking the gods for a passive awakening. "It's your stop."

A sequence of incoherent mumbles entered the airspace as the drowsy damsel attempted opening her door. The doorperson, seeing those multiple failures, eventually aided her exit, grabbing a hand then bracing around her back. Melanie, meanwhile, made out everything she was trying to say – a skill she had perfected after twenty years of tipsiness – amalgamating it all into a simple assurance,

"Nah, don't worry. You don't have to do anything. I've got this." Lyanna, even in her word salad of a mind, didn't feel too sure of that. But a quick kiss of valediction on the cheek sent her way made all those worries vanish and replaced them with giggling. "Now, get up there before you pass out."

More laughs ensued, but Lyanna eagerly obeyed, blowing a kiss back as her doorperson led her away. "Don't stay up too late, Mel!" she directed. "You, too, Brenden! None of us need eye bags."

Brenden, almost too in awe of the glamorous complex to catch her speaking, was surprised to be included in the farewell, even more so with a happy tone. Nonetheless, he appreciated it whole-heartedly, joining Melanie in waving her goodnight as she disappeared from view.

He took some time to calm from his high-fashion high before setting his course to Moonsong. However, before he drove off, Melanie locked him in place, reaching from the back to the steering wheel. He started to panic again, not even considering the presumably sweeter of the dynamic duo as a threat. The look on her face clearly showed a hidden craftiness that curdled his blood. Little did he know that none of it had to do with him.

No, actually, it slightly did. That cash drop Melanie made to him allowed for some new insight to reach her. He was more than qualified for plans she had had in the works for what felt like forever. His future modeling was only the tip of the iceberg, and she proved it by asking the last question along that path he ever expected to hear,

"Hey, Brenden, you had an order for alterations recently... but it wasn't for you, was it?"

#g/t #my writing #the high low life #faux pas #sw #fashion bitches #angst and cattiness but make it fashion... and with size differences

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patheticwithanem · 2 years ago

Text

Dear...

...Fam,

I wish you see my value more. It's really not as big of a deal as it sounds, but I really wish you see ME. I'm lucky to have a better support system compared to 5 years ago, but then again, I know I deserve so much more from you guys.

I'm usually not the one to brag, but I really genuinely believe I am this family's emotional anchor. We all have our differences and that's perfectly normal for a family. Despite that, I feel like I've worked around those differences better than anyone. Whether it be political ideologies or just personalities and way of life, I feel like I've compromised A LOT especially the past couple of years. I can admit that I was selfish, stubborn, impatient and self-indulgent growing up, but I learned to be more empathic as I navigate my relationships with all of you. I owe a lot of my patience to you guys and trust me, that's not always a good thing (LOL). If I'm being honest, I don't see you compromising by a whole lot. I've grown leaps and bounds on those compromises alone, and I wish I can see you grow with me as well. But I'm seeing the same patterns over and over again and I can only anchor for so long.

To my dad, I've actually grown to respect you more. I used to see everything from mom's point of view, but I can now appreciate how much you've sacrificed for this family. Maybe that realization is coming from knowing how depleting it can be to have all of these responsibilities, but I really commend your work ethic. And the patience... MAN. I am in awe. You have A LOT not just for your kids but for your wife too. I know you don't understand a lot of what we go through because you don't work with a lot of emotions and empathy, but that doesn't take away from the fact that you're an amazing provider and you try to be a better father. I wish you can discipline your children better though because you allowing them to just do what they want and talk how they want is lazy parenting in my opinion. To be fair, I know you're tired already and I'm sorry I haven't figured my shit out completely yet. I'm not much help knowing a lot has been weighing on you lately, but I wish you can communicate your feelings better. You can talk to us. You can talk to me.

To my mom, I wish you can be a little more sensitive. I can't fault you for making those decisions when we were younger, but I wish you could've been more assertive about what you really want. You didn't want to stay at home. You wanted to work and earn your own money. And you have a lot of responsibilities for your family; you want to give them the same life you are living right now. I GET THAT. I empathize with that. But we are way past the point of justifying those sacrifices. We will always be grateful that you made those hard decisions. But there's just no other choice but to move forward. We can't let those be excuses for being lazy, or apathetic, or for making bad decisions or for spoiling your siblings when they are perfectly capable of spoiling themselves on their own. As much as we love them, sometimes, we have to draw the line on how much responsible we are for our family's lives. I get that they are not as privileged as us, but it's almost becoming an excuse to NOT DO ANYTHING. You have to let them work on the things they want to get in life. By taking that responsibility from them, you are not allowing them to live their best selves. You are only making them dependent and quite frankly, entitled. And it's a mean cycle that's bound to exhaust you and only you have the power not to let that happen. I know you see that, and I see you trying to let go. But I wish you can OWN that even more. You have the biggest heart, but don't let that be the reason you're in the same place years from now. You are capable of so much more.

To my sister, I appreciate how much you include everyone and how much you want to make sure that we have something to look forward to. There's really not much I can do about your laziness and your "Virgo-ness" (which can be a little annoying), but for what it's worth, I think we need that kind of energy in the family. Thank you for trusting me with your emotional and mental baggage and I hope as a brother, I'm always someone you're comfortable leaning on to if you just need someone who'll listen. I have not much to say to be honest other than maybe REALLY believing that you deserve more. You say that all the time but with people (I mean boys) and relationships, I think you settle a lot. We accept the love we think we deserve. You of all people should know that you should not be settling for less.

To my brother, where do I even begin? HAHAHA I mean I hope you see how much energy I put in for you to feel that there's someone that champions and understands you in this family. I see a lot of my younger self in you which is why it's not difficult for me to identify with the things you struggle with and the things that makes sense to you. I really wish you can work on your anger management issues because YOU REALLY HAVE TO. It's a tough world out there. The things you get angry over are not things you should be getting angry over in the grand scheme of things. You know I hate to gaslight, right? It's really just a matter of perspective. I don't know if it's the gaming or the generational differences, but I hope when I tell you that you need to grow up, you see that I mean that in the best way possible. Especially in the industry you're in, you need to really be more resilient and open-minded and patient. Not everything is going to be handed to you on a silver platter. I wish you can work on your self-awareness and your entitlement and you also try to develop more empathy towards people different from you. You don't have to go far; you can extend that empathy to me. You see me working a lot and doing things I shouldn't be doing anymore and you having more time in your plate than mine, I wish you can be more sensitive about taking more responsibility? I don't think it's a lot to ask especially since I try to cater to your every need as much as I can. I'm not asking you to make a complete 360 on yourself. If you try, every little thing you do has a profound ripple effect to what I always believe you can be.

To all of you, I hope you realize the heavy-lifting I've been doing for this family. Brother, I hope you see that I try to be on your team most of the time, but you have to learn to let other people in so you don't always feel alone. I hope you stop rationalizing your decisions and your issues and your general lack of sensitivity with being alone because YOU'RE NOT. I see you. I hope you see me too. Sister, as much as I love hearing about your life, I hope you see I want to tell you about mine too. I don't always have it together emotionally. Can you check on me once in a while? Parents, I hope you communicate better. I think we're old enough to let you know that it's fine to argue about your issues. You don't have to save face anymore; we already know what's working in your marriage and what isn't. A lot of the problems you have can be easily solved if you can just sit down and be honest with each other. Stop it with the passive aggressiveness and the condescension. Stop subtly asking us to pick sides when you have some misunderstanding. Stop asking me to be your support blanket. Talk about it! Try to be sensitive about each other's feelings, and try to keep an open mind when we have something to say. Wisdom doesn't always come with age. Sometimes, you can learn a lot from empathy and from a completely different perspective. I hope you're learning a lot from me.

I'm writing about this not because I want you to feel guilty about it. I'm proud and happy I am doing this for people I love. It gives me a sense of purpose for the most part. And don't get me wrong: a lot of it is self-serving too. I learned to pick certain battles but fight for some too. I learned to swallow my ego when I have to, but I learned that my voice needs to be heard as well. I owe a lot of my growth and maturity to you and I hope you know that. Thank you for supporting me every step of the way. I know it hasn't been easy being my parent or my sibling post-college, but you tried your best not to put any more pressure on me and allowed me to figure it all out at my own pace and in my own time. I hope you are proud of the person I have become. But as I enter this new era in my life, I hope you can allow me to be the best I know I can be. I love you all, but tiptoeing around you holds me back in a million different ways, and I don't want that. You have to allow me to build a life for myself; something of my own. Whatever that means: my own career, my own family, my own person, anything. And I won't be able to do that if I point most of my energy on keeping this family grounded. I'm not asking much, but I hope you let me fly. I'm flapping my wings as hard as I can, and I might need to flap harder so I'll need a push and not a pull. I'm not sure that metaphor works because I'm not a bird expert, but to me it does.

If you made it here, thank you for listening. It's what I've always wanted.

#dear family #allow me to fly #metaphors #emotional anchor #empathy #family

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ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is · 7 years ago

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INFP 4w5 back :) Thanks for answering things! I'm sorry I didn't give enough information to actually have you help me - I will do so now! I am 24. I love reading stories, both for the emotional connection to characters, and then fun of imagining myself in their adventures (I mainly read fiction). I am an artist and a writer - I do so because I enjoy expressing my views, experiences, and insights in beautiful/interesting/creative ways. I also love the act of creating in general - my mind is very

INFP cont: busy, and it helps me either slow that down or connect my brain to my body (I admittedly spend way more time in my head, but working with my hands and brain at the same time helps me feel connected to the outside world).

So before I go on: this was a very long ask and I will therefore be ‘interrupting’ throughout in bold for my typing logic rather than rephrasing stuff down at the bottom.

Placing yourself in the story: that’s often the goal of stories anyway (and why self-insert is a whole thing) but it is consistent with Fi. Self-expression is something a lot of people like but it is particularly important to 4s. Brain-body connection as described here makes me think more Ne-Si axis but it’s hard for me to quite articulate why so...don’t quote me.

I like hanging out with my family and close friends - I hate being in crowds or in the spotlight. I find them overstimulating but also boring and I don't know what to do with body or what to say.

Pretty consistent for introverts who are intuitive (not just introverts who are intuitive but I’m going into this assuming it’s an INFP vs. INFJ thing unless I see blatant evidence for high Si or Se which so far I don’t.

I love being in nature - this is a new thing though, noticing nature for itself has only started happening since I was 20. I always liked the way it made me feel but didn't pay much attention to it in a sensory way until recent years. Now I love how peaceful and happy it makes me, how physically beautiful it is, but also all the ideas it generates in me - I think everything in nature is a symbol for something and it so fun trying to guess what those things are, or to make art out of things I find in the woods.

Could be either Ne-Si or Ni-Se for what it is; the age of onset is making me think tertiary sensing, plus the guessing the symbol rather than being more decisive makes me think Ne.

I also really love history and fantasy. History because I ideloize old ways of doing things (like gardening, pioneering, etc) ideal and exciting. I try to incorperate those things into my life and would like to be a homesteader or live in a bus one day, because it feels really free, and also I think connects us back to the way humans are meant to live.

Idolization of an idealized past is often weaker Si (nostalgia/sentimentality are often low Si things, contrary to popular belief that it’s higher Si. Seriously, talk to the average ESTJ, they have no nostalgia unless something changed drastically for the less efficient.)

I care a lot about people and social justice, but it tires me out, so I don't actually spend a lot of time engaging. I like listening to my friends and helping them sort out their feelings. I used to be really bad at DOING things for my friends, but I started to realize it was hurting them, so I am trying more and more to not just be a listening ear, but actively engage in their lives. I'm always torn between wanting to help people and make the world a better place, and just being free and doing what I want and find life giving.

At this point I’m already as you can tell leaning towards INFP much more. This also seems more INFP, with your Fi slowly realizing and maturing to a point where you are better able to care for others and meet them on their terms rather than your own.

I think A LOT, and I am very interested in understanding theories, concepets, anazlying people.

All intuitives like concepts, and while I dislike the assertion that introspection is the sole purview of introverts or intuitives, they definitely do it a lot.

Why I'm wondering if I might be an INFJ instead of an INfP? Mainly because two people I respect mentioned they thought I might be.

Yeah...without more than just “caring & empathetic” I wouldn’t put too much weight on it.

I had always thought I was just an INFP (MAYBE an ISFP, but I don't feel like a doer enough or in touch enough with the physical world - other then finding it super beautiful and day dreaming about it).

I’d agree, I’m really not getting much Se from your asks.

But they specifically thought my Fe seems very high - I am emotionally expressive, I care a lot for others, and I'm very sensitive to the emotional feel of people/places/situations.

So, sensitive to the emotional feel and emotional expressiveness are just feeler things. Without rephrasing the whole Fi/Fe post I always refer back to, I find that while high Fi users’ feelings tend to come from a more internalized place sometimes or are less typical in some of their reactions, they still are pretty emotionally expressive especially compared to your average thinker. There are a lot of very reserved IxFJs and very expressive IxFPs and the uneven stereotypes of constantly crying INFPs/IxFJs hiding their emotions for the sake of harmony hammer that point home.

I also tend to get hunches about situations and people, like what might happen or that I should/shouldn't do something, or about why someone is upset/happy, and am right pretty often (is that maybe dom Ni? with some Fe? or is that also Ne?)

Hunches can be anything; intuition is specifically preferring them over physical evidence (sensing is the opposite, so sensors often ignore their hunches if there’s evidence otherwise). Hard to tell because hunches are also related to thin slicing in neuroscience which is just a brain thing. Also this can be Si that you don’t realize is working - like, you’ve seen it before, but don’t consciously realize it.

I also wonder if my constant thinking and trying to figure things out (like obsessively trying to figure out my type) is Ti?

Eh, humans are curious and we all like to think. Ti is a specific approach to logic that for some reason got credit for way more (hint it was David Keirsey)

And I love talking about my feelings and am very comfy with it, which apparently lots of INFPs aren't?

Some aren’t, some are, see stuff above re: emotional expressiveness.

I also avoid conflict in public - I don't avoid it at all with my family, I avoid it moderately with good friends, and won't get into public debates. However, I will speak up in public if I think someone is doing something really wrong.

Could be enneagram 9 which is pretty common in Fi doms; it’s also just part of upbringing, that it’s not polite to start an argument in a lot of social situations, but okay with people you’re close with or if it’s something egregious.

I feel like I have a hard time expressing my opinions well verbally (Im fine writing), and it makes me afraid I won't say what I actually mean, and I also am afraid of the rage I feel in conflict and don't want to hurt others feelings by unleashing that.

W/r/t expression, that sort of conflicts with some of the emotional expressiveness you’d mentioned earlier, but either way tracks more with introversion than anything else. Fear of strong anger makes me wonder if you’ve enneatyped yourself correctly, though obviously I can’t tell if it’s your greatest fear. But I’d take a seriously look at 9 gut fixes.

I also don't like people trampling on my beliefs, so often just won't express them with those I'm not real close to. But I've read that high Fi users don't avoid conflict, and high Fe users do? And I am very willing to consider other people's points of view and MAYBE change my opinion, but thats pretty rare. I'm also a very empathetic listener - I think before speaking, ask good questions, and make noises to assure them im listening, which Ive also read is Fe. is that enough info?

Not liking people trampling on beliefs is pretty universal - even people who behave in an extreme doormat way usually don’t particularly like it deep down. For conflict avoidance see notes on enneagram 9. Openness to other points of view could come from Ne seeing different options, or Fi accepting other’s opinions as being able to coexist with your own usually; it’s also just a healthy adult thing to do regardless of type. Same goes for listening - those are all learned skills and so ask yourself if you did those when you were younger. I did mostly by the time I was 24 but I sure didn’t when I was 17, whereas people with higher feeling, and to some extent higher Fe more than Fi, tend to pick those up a bit more naturally and therefore earlier.

ah one last thing! I take a very long time to make descions - I want to make sure I'm doing/getting the best/right thing. which also seems not very INFP?

Not sure where you got that idea - indecisiveness until you know the optimum response is EXTREMELY INFP. Specifically Ne.

And I get very afraid of not having the idealized visions and dreams of the future I crave - I'm okay with the exact details being flushed out over time, but there are general dreams I will not give up. I've read thats more Ni then Ne?

It is but given the context of everything else, I think this can come from Fi if you see those dreams as identity, and ultimately everyone has goals and dreams.

Oh shit, thought of more things. I SUCK at finishing things - it takes crazy hard work for me to finish a project. I just get... bored and move on. Or procrastinate because other things are more interesting in the moment. But I'm also fairly academic and analytical - can INFP's be that? I find it very stimulating and when Im interested in a topic I want to learn EVERYTHING about it and understand it fully. And I hate when I have a mental problem that I can't solve. I will obsess.

INFPs can be analytical but it’s not your primary way of going about the world (nor is it for INFJs for that matter). Do you like it a lot in specific, lower-pressure contexts (say, academia)? That can be you exploring lower functions. It’s worth considering how you go about being analytical, and whether it seems more Te or Ti. The unsolved problem issue also depends on context, and learning everything can be Ne wanting all the information to fuel a very divergent thought process.

INFP 1,000: And I forgot the thing. I also orgionally started questioning because of my love for sensing things - I love physical beauty in home decor, nature, clothes, etc, and I love being in nature. When I was a teen and very stressed/unwell I overindulged in sensory things like sex/food/drinking/cutting, because it made me feel alive. In the same way now, engaging my senses in healthy ways makes me feel alive. But I do feel pretty crap at it. Which made me wonder if I had inferior Se.

OK so this isn’t directed at you but good lord does inferior Se get almost as much of a mythical out of proportion blow-out as dom Ni. A lot of inferior Se-credited unhealthy behaviors, while definitely present in dom Ni users, are also fairly universal. Namely, all the sensory things you mention will lead to endorphin rushes (hence the feeling alive - it’s brain chemistry) and all are pretty common coping mechanisms for depression, anxiety, or stress to the point that two of them are on the PHQ-9 depression screening. You would be hard pressed to find someone who’d never indulged in at least one under stress, and most people have indulged in several. This has been my PSA that typing based on inferior Se behaviors is a dangerous game for exactly that reason.

Anyway: overall, I see strong evidence for INFP and I’d look at enneagram 9 for some of the more conflict avoidant parts; perhaps more than 4 even though it could just be a strong 9 gut-fix as the second part of your tritype, and maybe a 5 head fix for the analytical stuff. Unless you have more details on the people who typed you INFJ I can’t really refute their arguments,but I see much more INFP for the reasons above.

#mbti #infj #infp #enneagram #long post #Anon ask #answered asks

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justagoddamnbranch · 7 years ago

Text

Doubt, the whole thing in case you don’t want to read it in parts

Words: 7178 Rating: T

Warning for blood, gore, religion, and scary confusion

Trees, dirt, leaves, and that distinctive smell of being near a sewage drainage area. Rhodie opened their eyes, they could see the trees and sky above them. They must’ve fallen asleep outside again. Something fell into their eye and they winced, sitting up quickly. Their stomach hurt, badly, and their entire body was sore and covered in dirt and grime. Guh, they hated this. Their legs screamed in protest as they scoot over to the side of the path to vomit whatever they’d eaten last night. Usually it was garbage and…stuff, but this stuff looked different.

They shook, whether it was out of their normal exhaustion or if they were going to get sick again they didn’t know. They shifted to be more comfortable as they waited out the shaking when a spike of pain shot down from their shoulder blades to their sternum. They grunted through the pain before looking down, they were used to waking up to injuries but that didn’t stop them from freaking out whenever they happened. They blinked, that wasn’t their blood.

They started crying, oh no no no. No. They hurt an animal again. Oh god. They wheeled around, as if the change of view would somehow get them away from the their actions. They curled up into themself. Oh no no no. No, oh no. They could see someone standing nearby. They jumped, they hadn’t noticed the other staring at them. Rhodie swallowed nervously, they were going to have a hard time explaining all…this, but they needed to know where they were so they could get home.

“Um h-hello?” They peeped, with a little wave, “Please don’t be afraid. I just want to know where the highway is.”

No answer. Maybe they hadn’t heard them, a lot of people have trouble listening to them. Or maybe they’re just as nervous as they are. They saw them blink and move their jaw from behind the tree, that settled it. They must be shy about talking too. Feeling a little bit better that they’re socially anxious too, Rhodie got themself upright and limped over to the tree.

“I’m R-,” they paused, they shouldn’t give them their real name. “Ronald. Sorry to be a bother, uh…what do you like to be called?”

“Y-you.” their voice was croaky and raspy, they sounded really scared. Jeez, they must have anxiety way worse than them.

“Yu? Or Yun?” They knew it didn’t really matter but the more they talked the more comfortable they could get. Plus it helps to know people’s names, or at least according to their grandma.

They were silent, just staring at them.

“O-oh I’m sorry, are you mad now? I didn’t mean to make fun of you!”

More silence.

Something was wrong.

Rhodie backed up a bit, going towards the other trees in case they needed to run away. The stranger’s gaze stayed forward though. Ok this was really weird. They backed up further, trying to get behind them so they’d have more time to get away. Oh. Deeply embedded in the stranger’s back was a sizable stick, their clothes shredded along their sides. There was a definite struggle. Their body twitched, making Rhodie jump a second time, and a trail of blood ran from their mouth. It was the same color as what was on Rhodie.

The realization hit them like a freight train, and they had to prop themself up against a nearby tree while they vomited again. They needed to tell someone…no. They needed to leave. They looked about them to see if anyone else could’ve saw them before taking the dying, or dead they couldn’t quite tell, person’s pants and running into the forest. They wouldn’t last long on the adrenaline, especially since they were sore already, but they could get far enough that they wouldn’t be blamed and killed. Christ on a bike this was way worse than killing somebody’s dog, this couldn’t be fixed like broken windows and a dent in a car.

This was irreparable damage. They’d caused irreparable damage. Their family, oh god their family. They were going to wonder where they were. They were dying all alone in the middle of the forest with a stake running them through, that’s where they were. And it was all Rhodie’s fault.

Rhodie was getting very tired of running, they were going to burn out soon. They hoped they’d gotten far enough away from…the other place, it was cowardly but they didn’t want to be found out. Their mother would be so disappointed…they were going to have to call her soon to let her know they weren’t coming back. They scrabbled up an embankment to find a chain link fence. They were too tired right then to continue, they grabbed a wire on it and used it as leverage to sit down gently. As they laid back they noted the position of the sun in the sky. It was around noon, they guessed. Their eyes fluttered shut and soon they were deeply asleep.

They awoke to a rustling nearby, their eyes opened halfway, and they saw an older woman in a pink sweater with a blue skirt poking underneath shining a flashlight onto them. She didn’t say a word, and all that could be heard was crickets and leaves rustling in the breeze. They saw a flash of something shiny in her other hand, her grip trembling. They backed up against the fence and she looked ready to strike, they could hear her soul pounding from here. This was it, they were going to get stabbed. They supposed they deserved it, do unto others and all that, but they couldn’t help the tears.

They let out a meek whimper, and the woman lowered her hand.

“Are you lost?” She was trying to sound assertive, but the tremble in her voice gave her away.

“Nuh no, I-I had to le-leave m-my ho-o-ouse.” They hiccuped as they cried.

The woman approached them silently, knife still in hand but at her side now. She knelt down, and they started to settle.

“If you need a place to go, I can show you the way.”

Rhodie nodded their head, wiping their eyes with the palm of their hand. Now that she was closer, the woman noticed the dried blood across their torso and face. They looked positively wild, and not in the good way. She stood up and beckoned them over, and they did their best to stand up full. Sleeping while sitting up had left them stiff, but the soreness had somewhat subsided. Still, they kinda hunched over as they followed her along the trail.

She walked along the wooded path, looking cautiously all about her. She turned suddenly at a rock, and they hesitantly went along with her. They reached the dimly lit back of a large building, and she fumbled with her keys. They looked up, long paned windows, with candlelight flickering making it look like there was a large fire inside. It was only a reflection though. The woman put away her key and flashlight, opened the door and ushered them inside, then quickly closed it behind the both of them. She paused to dip her middle and index fingers into a little vessel screwed into the wall next to the door before touching her head, then her chest, then both of her shoulders. Rhodie followed suit, having practiced the motion themself all their life.

She plodded along the dark hallway to an office, Rhodie clacking along behind her. She rapped on the door with her free hand. A tall, dour man with a long face peeked from behind his door, once he saw who it was he opened it fully and welcomed them both inside.

“Please, have a seat.” He said, getting behind his desk and straightening the papers upon it.

“No need, I need to get back home but I found this young person while I was on my nightly walk. They were against the fence of the nature preserve!” She sounded quite ruffled.

“Thank you Ms. Harris, that’s fine. Go on home to your family.” He nodded understandingly.

She nodded back, more like she’d made a point rather than in agreement, but she turned tail and walked out. Rhodie could hear her footsteps down the hall and then the slam of a heavy door. They nervously turned to the man, he wasn’t wearing the clothes they were used to seeing but he was obviously a member of the clergy.

“Well young man, you look like you’ve been through it!” He chuckled mirthlessly, “I assume you have no place to go?”

“N-no, father. I'm…homeless.” They mumbled, a church was the last place they wanted to be after committing murder.

He sighed, “Ya got some bad luck kid, I’m sorry to say but we just filled our last bed for the night.”

He waited for a response but Rhodie said nothing.

“However I can drive you to the next church with a spot that’s open.” He stood up, back cracking

“I’d appreciate that very much, father.” They got up as well, slowly though, so the clergyman had time to gather his things

“Come along.” He waited for them to catch up before showing them the way out to his car.

The ride over was quiet, the only sound was the 80s pop music pouring out of the stereo. Rhodie was a bit surprised that such a stern looking person was listening to such upbeat music, but it was kinda funny in a way. They played nervously with the belt loops on their pants.

Soon enough they were there, and a much friendlier looking dog-faced church lady was standing outside ready to receive them. She waved to the clergyman and he waved back, a signal to come to his side of the car. He rolled down the window.

“Now see here, this young man is very beat up so prepare yourself for what is to come.” He informed her solemnly.

“Oh it’s no problem, sir.” She smiled, “One of my own boys came home injured just yesterday. Got in a fight.”

“I see, so you’ve got more than enough training!” He laughed genuinely

“Yep!” She said enthusiastically, walking over the the other side to help Rhodie out.

“Hey there-” she ogled what appeared to be a severe injury on them. “Do you need to go to the hospital?!”

“N-no ma'am, it’s old. Just haven’t washed it off yet.” They tried smiling, but it looked more like a grimace.

She frowned in concern.

“Well I’ll help you get cleaned up at my house. What’s your name?”

They thought for a second, Ronald was a bad name it was too close to their own. Rhododendron…Rhododendron. Denny? No that was a restaurant. Danny? Hmmm, maybe Dan. Dan would be good because it didn’t have the -y sound.

“Dan.” They held out their hand to shake, they guessed they were Dan now.

“Alright Dan, I live a few blocks away. Can you walk?”

“Yes ma'am.”

They said goodbye to the clergyman and made their way slowly to the woman’s house. She told them about her boys, and they told her how old they were. She laughed, she had a boy about their age. She then got kind of serious and asked what their pronouns were, they blinked at her, and she apologized for the strange question. It was a bit out of habit, she did have a transgender son after all, and it helped clear up any confusion if she got it out of the way first thing. They nodded, and told her theirs. She nodded back. By the time she laid out most of the house rules, they were at her house.

She showed them inside, and her two boys were on the couch. The smaller one jumped at the sight of them, the larger one simply turning their ears at them.

“Hey kids, we’re going to have a guest over for the night. Say hello to Dan.” the mom put away her things as she explained, “Dustin, please make sure we have some clean linens for them. If there aren’t any, put some in the wash.”

The eared boy jumped up from the couch at his mother’s instructions, and went upstairs.

"Petey, could you put some leftovers from dinner in the oven? 350° should be good.”

“Fer sure.” Petey got up from the couch, Rhodie noted that he had one arm in a sling. He must’ve been the one in the fight.

“Ok, Dan,” they snapped their attention back to the woman, “the bathroom is in the hallway, it should be the last door to your left. Go ahead and get cleaned up, don’t worry about putting those dirty ol’ pants back on. Dustin will get you something clean to wear.”

“O-oh, alright. Where do you want me to put them?”

“Just on the ground in there is fine, we’ll figure out a spot tomorrow.”

They nervously walked over to the bathroom, they’d never showered at someone else’s house before. It was kinda weird being naked in a stranger’s house. Oh well they couldn’t question it too much, they didn’t like being this dirty. The soap they had smelled nice, it was a lot fancier than they had back at their house. They finished up quickly, they didn’t want to use up all their hot water, and picked up one of their towels. It was so nice and soft, and such a pretty red color. They had forgotten that they didn’t have anything to change into before they stepped out, and in front of the bathroom door was the change of clothes.

They took the bundle into the bathroom to change, the clothes were a little too big but they weren’t going to complain. They actually thought they were a bit funny, it was an old Iron Maiden shirt laden with rips and holes and a pair of black jeans that looked like whoever was trying to cut off the legs were trying to make the edges be jaggedy or possibly even lightning bolts? Either way it was kinda silly looking on them, but they were thankful for it regardless.

They stepped out of the bathroom and nearly ran into the one called Petey, who blinked at them before breaking into a fit of giggles. He snorted, and Rhodie couldn’t help laugh either. Once he calmed down a bit he turned around, back towards the kitchen where his mother was.

“Hey mom you wouldn’t believe what Dustin picked out for them.” He could hardly get out his words without laughing.

The mom turned around and jumped at the sight of them but also broke into laughter. Rhodie knew they looked ridiculous but this was a bit excessive. Dustin walked in, having heard his family in the kitchen, smiling like a fool.

“H-holy shit Dustin, oh my god, they look just like Trentin did back then.” Petey was clutching his sides, it felt good to laugh that hard.

“Yeah except they’re taller.” Dustin winked.

A new wave of giggles hit Petey and he left the kitchen, he couldn’t handle it anymore he needed to sit down. The mom settled down a bit, and glanced over at them, noticing they’d pulled back.

“Hey, hey, Don’t worry about it, it’s a family thing. You actually look really cute in those. Go ahead and sit with Petey on the couch, the food’s almost ready.”

“Y-you sure you want me to eat on the couch?” They perked up a small bit, they never got to eat anywhere other than the table at home. Well, unless they were sick.

“Yeah,” she waved at them dismissively, “As long as you don’t spill I don’t see any problem with it. You’ve deserve to sit on something soft after all you’ve been through.”

All they’ve? Oh right they were homeless. She must’ve thought they were homeless for a while, not 18 hours. Wait…oh wait shoot they were going to call their mom.

“I-is it alright if I make a call? It won’t be long I promise.”

“Sure, sure, as long as it’s not long distance. Well actually it’s after 9, so go nuts.” She smiled, turning back to whatever she had been doing before Petey had come in.

They left the kitchen, they assumed the phone would be close to a table and scanned the room, there it was. They scurried over to it, and took it off its receiver and sat on the steps of their stairs before dialing in the familiar number. One ring, two, three, then the click of someone answering.

“Hello?!” It was their own mom, and she sounded frantic.

“Hey mom-”

“Rhodie? Oh thank all the gods and monsters, where are you? I can go right now.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m fine I’m at someone’s house.”

“Who’s house?”

“Petey’s?” They knew their mom wouldn’t know who that was but they hoped she wouldn’t question it.

“…what happened, Rhodie. You need to tell me.”

“Nothing happened, I met a guy.” they hoped that wasn’t a lie, it was technically true after all.

“Rhodie, they found him in the woods. They’re saying it was probably his disgruntled employees or a cult or something. You know how there’s those satanists and witches out there.”

“What if they figure me out anyways?”

“Then we can move, just please Rhodie, come home.”

“I need to stay out here a couple days, then I’ll come back.” They had no idea if they were actually going to follow through with that, but they needed to say something to comfort her.

“Only a few days though?”

“Unless there’s any doubts.”

“Alright then, I love you.”

“Love you too. See you soon. Bye.” They clicked the red button and held it in their hands a second.

They stood up, just in time to notice Dustin’s ear flick back forward towards the tv and away from them. He’d heard them. They slunk down the stairs, and sat down next to him on the couch. He turned to his brother and growled, Rhodie didn’t pay them much mind though. They looked like they had some dog in them and dogs growled, that’s part of what made them so scary. Or well pet dogs, they didn’t know much about dog monsters but they assumed both of them growled at each other.

A few minutes later the mom came out of the kitchen with a plate for them, and herself. She sat across them in a rocking chair and started eating, they quickly followed suit. The food tasted amazing, and they complimented her throughout the meal. When they were finished they cleaned both of their plates, and while they were busy the mom had pulled out the blankets and set the couch up for them to sleep on. The family said goodnight to them, and left as a bunch to go upstairs, leaving them all alone on the first floor. It was a bit comforting, to be alone and warm. They didn’t realize how tired they were and drifted off to sleep.

Once Dustin could hear the soft rumbling of Rhodie’s snores he crept across the hall into his mother’s room. Petey was in there too, sitting next to his mom, looking very scared. Their mom waved Dustin over, and he sat on the edge of her bed.

“What were they saying on the phone?” Louisa asked, keeping her voice down

“They were saying something about how they can’t come home. And the other person said ‘they found him in the woods’.”

“Which woods? Our woods? There aren’t any other woods around here, unless we’re talking about the nature preserve. But isn’t that like a six hour run from here? They couldn’t have done that!” Petey sounded very nervous, and was talking very fast because of it.

Louisa nodded her head solemnly, “Well they did find a poor hiker that was found dead under mysterious circumstances over there yesterday…”

They all sat silently, staring at each other as if asking what to do now. Louisa sighed. She’d welcomed them into her home, she should take the fall.

“I want you two to sleep in here tonight.” She explained, looking at each of her boys individually before continuing, “In the morning I’ll take them back to the church and they can stay there until whoever they were talking to can either come get them or they can arrange to be somewhere else. You know the priest, he wouldn’t allow someone dangerous to run amok here in town.”

Petey swallowed and nodded, if only he knew how dangerous some folks really were in the area. Maybe he could be like St Peter and drive…oh my god really? St Peter? Fine, maybe he could be like St Peter and drive all the snakes from the town. While Petey had drawn back into himself to argue over the metaphor in his head, Louisa and Dustin were arguing about whether they should sleep at all or not.

“-if you’re too tired you can’t defend yourself properly! Your reaction time is much much slower!” Louisa was whisper yelling at Dustin

“I’m bigger’n them! I can overpower them no matter what!” Dustin’s ears were back in annoyance, “You just want us to sleep like we’re little kids.”

“Ok, true, I do want you two to be well rested at all times but it’s also the defense thing.”

There was a loud thump and the three of them jumped. Silence. Downstairs, Rhodie had accidentally rolled off the couch and landed on the floor. They were still asleep though, and were splayed out like a starfish on their back. Dustin crept down the hall and down the stairs, with a large stick in hand, to check on the noise. He flinched upon seeing them on the ground, he thought they were dead for a second, before settling once he noticed they were still very much asleep.

The night went on like that, a weird sound would come from downstairs and Dustin would go and check. None of the McColloughs slept that night. As dawn broke they all spilled out downstairs and woke Rhodie up, under the guise that they were morning people. In reality, they wouldn’t have gotten up for at least another 4 hours. Though Louisa made breakfast as normal, and they pretended to enjoy Rhodie’s company instead of fearing the repercussions of acting indifferent to them. They had a quick breakfast, Rhodie complimenting and thanking Louisa throughout the meal, before they all set out towards the church to drop them off.

Rhodie was a bit confused why they were being passed along, they did suppose it was late last night and they were already so nice to let them stay one night, they must’ve outstayed their time already. Were they annoying? Did they do something wrong? …oh wait their pants. OH WAIT THEIR PANTS WERE THE ONES THEY TOOK OFF THE GUY, THERE’S DNA ON THAT THEY CAN’T LEAVE IT.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry I left my pants at your house. Could we please go back and get them?”

“You don’t really want those dingy old things do you? We can throw them out for you.”

“No, no you don’t understand. I need my pants.”

“It’s alright the church can give you more clothes, and you can keep the ones we’ve given to you. Don’t worry about it.”

Rhodie was quiet, they realized there was no use in fighting the kind woman. Unless they wanted to tell her what happened, but they figured that wouldn’t go over too well. They thought on it for a moment.

“Could you please give my pants to the priest? I’m sorry I’m making such a big deal about them, it’s just they’re very important to me.”

Petey’s eyes widened, he knew that term. Lepus used to mention that things they were going to steal were very important to them. Oh god they were dangerous after all.

Louisa opened her mouth to protest but Petey interrupted, “Yes I can absolutely drop them off later today.”

Dustin looked at Petey, which he just shrugged back, and it was settled.

“Thank you very much! You all have been so kind, I don’t know how I could possibly thank you guys enough.”

“Well the polish on our halos is thanks enough,” the family paused at the steps of the church and waved goodbye to Rhodie, “wish you luck!”

They waved goodbye back and went inside the church, going straight to the reading room there. Sure it was almost entirely christian themed books, but there were a few that must’ve gotten snuck in that were regular old stories. A few hours passed and they heard someone pull up to the church and ring the bell. They sat up, partially sore from sitting one way for so long and partially from yesterday’s events. They guessed it was mostly the latter than the former. They peered through the window of the reading room and saw their pants, all folded up and nice, sitting on the steps.

Rhodie scrambled outside to get them, and put them on despite the fact that they were already wearing bottoms. Oh well, it wasn’t too hot, they could make do. Upon realizing how uncomfortable wearing two pairs of pants was, they decided that if they were going to be homeless they needed a hobo bag of some sort. Was it still ok to call homeless people hobos? They supposed that since they were one now, they could call themself whatever they wanted…and hobo was a lot easier to say than ‘homeless person’. Plus hobo had a certain familiar ring to it, homeless sounded a lot scarier than hobo, which made their predicament a little bit easier to handle. They were a hobo.

After getting back inside the church they looked around to see if anyone had left a bag in the lost and found. It was definitely hurting their soul to leave a string of deceit and crime behind them, but they supposed if this string started with murder it only can go down from there. In it were a few different sweaters and jackets, a couple beanies and a stuffed animal, no bags. Rhodie shrugged, well they were glad the stuffed animal was in good care. They hoped whoever had lost it found it again soon enough. They sat down in the hall outside the big doors leading to the congregation room? They weren’t sure what to call it since this particular building was a nondenominational church. It’s the big room where they would talk to the community, like a sermon but they also weren’t sure if that’s what they called it.

God everything was so confusing.

Not to say the lord’s name in vain under a church roof, no, that would be a si-wait the whole murder and lies thing right, right. They weren’t going to have to worry about going to hell for saying his name in vain, oh no. There were far worse things on their record.

They looked up at the clock on the wall, it was lunchtime. They wandered around the building, even going outside, wondering how they could get so much land dedicated to just this. No one lived here, usually, and no one really learned here. It was just here to be a socializing area for the community, and to reaffirm the beliefs that people already believed in regardless. It was weirdly wasteful, not that they could ever say something like that. They didn’t want to get in trouble, with mortals or gods. They did that weird shake your head back and forth thing when you shrug, well they were already cursed to become a beast every month so they guessed they had already gotten in trouble with both mortals and gods. Jesus, these past few days was just a culmination of everything they’d done wrong.

Well, if this was a catholic church they could’ve gone to confession and got something out of this instead of just making themself feel bad. Well maybe, the father could’ve called the police on them for telling him that they murdered someone. They figured the confidentiality of the church only went so far. Sheesh they really couldn’t get past this murdering thing.

Lost in their thoughts and not paying attention where they were going, they stumbled into a shed. Someone inside yelled, and they were shocked into reality.

“Oh…oh no, I’m so sorry. D-did I get you?” Rhodie apologized to the person inside the shed

“No, no it’s alright you just frightened me is all.” It was a soft voice, like a nurse’s

“Oh.” They paused, trying to peek into the cracks in the wooden planks, “What are you doing in there?”

“Ummm nothing?”

Someone else poked their head from the other side of the shed’s door, surprising Rhodie, “There’s a whole bunch of food in here, and we’re taking it.”

“Taking it?”

“Taking it.”

“Isn’t that stealing from the church?” Rhodie asked, looking around to make sure no one saw them.

“Oh yeah, you’re right that would be stealing,” the other person winked, “and we’re very good god fearing folks.”

Rhodie blinked, these people were faking to get handouts. Why though, wouldn’t the church give to them regardless?

“C’mon kid, help us out.” They waved Rhodie in, and for some reason they followed.

They were shocked by the amount of food in the shed, there were shelves and shelves of canned goods, at least 20 cartons of ramen noodles, and a couple gallons of water and juice. The one who’d brought them inside was wearing mismatched shoes and a very dirty looking poncho that went down almost to the ground.

“Wow,” Rhodie sputtered out in shock, “did they just have a drive or something?”

“At some point, but I don’t remember the last time they did it.” the one with the nurse’s voice said, she was dressed nicely and looked clean, “They don’t really feed people here. They just network the downtrodden to somewhere else. But these ‘donations’ are mostly used to feed the churchgoers instead of the needy.”

Rhodie was very mad suddenly, that was not ok! To trick people into thinking they’re doing something good only for them to feed them back lies, literally! They were literally feeding them lies, all of these soups were watered down lies with chunks of vegetables in them. They had a really bad pain in their eye out of nowhere, but didn’t make a sound because they didn’t want to worry the others. They just closed it and started helping the one with the poncho stuff as much of the food as they could into a garbage bag, as quickly as possible. Once they’d cleared out most of it the nurse person shooed them away and they took off at full tilt back towards the woods.

Despite the initial panic and the racing of their heart, the running through the forest felt absolutely exhilarating to Rhodie. Rebellion, having the bad folks get their comeuppance, and stealing from the rich to benefit the poor! They were like Robin Hood, or well more like Little John since they were kinda the follower on this adventure but they didn’t mind. They followed the guy with the poncho through the underbrush, sticks snapping underfoot and leaves fluttering down on the trail the two of them left. The other was quite nimble for someone who looked like they were approaching 40, if they hadn’t already passed it. They reached the top of a very steep hill, with a fence that looked typical of horse ranches splitting the valley below in two. The one in the poncho carefully made their way down, but Rhodie was so pumped up that they barreled down the hill and cleared the fence in a single leap. They thought they looked so cool, until they landed hard on their feet. Their bones stung a bit, but somehow were relatively ok. The guy with the poncho laughed and shook their head, guiding them along the other side of the fence.

They walked until they came across a stream whose current seemed just slow enough to pass by without any trouble. Rhodie was bending down to take off their shoes when the poncho guy took a sharp right turn. They straightened up and jogged a bit to catch up, quickly falling back in step with the stranger. The trees got closer together, and the trail became more unkempt until they were sure they were no longer on a regular path. There was a clearing, the only object in it was an old concrete bridge that looked like it was once part of a railroad. The poncho guy hollered into the tunnel beneath it, and when no one answered but their own echo, they ducked into the shadows. Rhodie was apprehensive for the first time since meeting them, but they figured they’ve gone far enough in that they’re in it for the long haul. That, and they could totally defend themself, they killed a man after all.

Inside the tunnel wasn’t as dark as they expected. There was a newish metal door with torches on either side of it. Not like flashlight torches, no, like wood and fire torches old timey cave spelunkers used. The door was left ajar, and they tried to be quiet as they creaked it open enough for them to get inside.

“Close it until it clicks.”

Rhodie jumped, not expecting the poncho guy to be right there. The older one looked down at them with brows furrowed, oh right, they needed to close the door. They did as they were told, and the other lead them down a series of concrete stairs. Further and further down, they had no idea the railroad could’ve made something like this. They hit the bottom finally, and there were a few other people gathered around. It was surprisingly well kept for being a homeless encampment, well sort of homeless, they supposed with all the amenities that this could be considered a home. From what they could see the large room had bookshelves completely packed with both books and random objects, a few lamps attached to a couple cords that ran across the floor before it snaked up the stairs they had just climbed down on, a television, a couch, several sets of cots and bedmats, a pile of various board games, a table, and two doors to what they assumed was two other rooms. You never know though, it could be like the Winchester Mystery House and those doors could lead to a cliff to ward off robbers, or maybe it was a hobo treasure room!

The guy in the poncho grunted, it was a signal. A much larger person sitting over at the table who had been playing cards got up, and walked over and through one of the doors on the other side of the room. Rhodie looked up and over at the guy in the poncho, trying to find reassurance. They found none, in fact, the poncho guy was looking into their shirt, obviously rummaging around for something. Rhodie hoped whatever it was wouldn’t make them regret coming down there. A pair of icy grey eyes approached from the other side of the door, preceded by the large guy who had gone to fetch them. Rhodie gulped, as they came out Rhodie felt like they couldn’t breathe. It was a average sized caiman woman, but she looked anything but average. Her scales looked as if it captured moonlight and reflected it even down here, she had a few pearly spikes running down from her head, but they seemed to stop once they hit the nape of her neck. She wore a maroon dress and a golden necklace with a sun pendant that rested on her bosom. They tried not to stare at it for too long, they didn’t want to come across as rude. The guy in the poncho stood up straighter, Rhodie noticing for the first time exactly how small they were next to them. They pulled out a matching pendant.

“Pavo.”, the caiman woman addressed the one in the poncho. Her voice was cold and dangerous, like a knife you accidentally left in your calzone box when you put it in the fridge overnight

Poncho guy nodded politely in greeting, “Venatici.”

“Who is that…scruffy one you have there.” She looked Rhodie over and they turned their head away, a light blush spreading on their cheeks. Venatici smirked.

“Oh, um,” the poncho guy aka Pavo cleared their voice, “This is a young person I found at that church. Apparently they blew into town last night, according to my sources.”

“I see, where did they come from.” she said it more like a statement than a question

“One of my guys saw them pass our borders to the north, so I’m assuming up there.”

“Hmmm, interesting. So they must be from where Pictor was.”

“No, he was who was in charge of this territory before I took over last year, they’re closer to where Crux is.”

“Crux?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Pavo nodded.

She eyed Rhodie again, seeming to search for something. Rhodie just smiled like an idiot back, she frowned.

“I don’t think they’re part of Crux’s network.” Pavo’s voice cracked halfway through that sentence, “They seemed to think, back at the church, stealing was wrong.”

Venatici snorted, “Cute.”

Rhodie rubbed their neck, oh gee she thought they were cute.

She raised her brow at them before turning her gaze back to Pavo, “Well then, if they weren’t one of Crux’s why did you bring them down here?”

“I…thought they could be useful. They’re small and innocent looking and-”

“I doubt they could be of any use to us.”

“-and look at their eye.” Pavo continued, suddenly holding them in place for Venatici to examine them.

Rhodie struggled a bit but it was no use, Venatici opened their eye wider and really looked at it. They were worried about what was wrong with their eye, and their chest was rising and falling rapidly. She backed off, and just when they thought they were safe another pang shot through their skull and condensed at their eye. They closed it and the pain made them close it, but not before Venatici had seen what she wanted.

“Oh.” Her cold demeanor was broken for a moment.

“Yes! Exactly!” Pavo seemed excited, like they didn’t do many things right.

“No, not yes. Get them out of here.” she ordered.

Pavo’s face fell, but they dropped their hands from restraining Rhodie. Immediately, Rhodie felt the urge to run. They didn’t though, because they weren’t sure what would happen if they did.

“Why should I?” Pavo was very serious, and Venatici didn’t seems to take kindly to this question of authority.

“Because, I’ve seen this before. Now if you don’t want to catch yourself dead by next month I’d let them go and not follow them.” She considered something, “Go ahead and give them back to Crux, let them deal with it, the radicalized slut.”

Pavo pursed their lips, they obviously didn’t like that Venatici was calling this Crux person names.

“Fine. Archer.” They called to another guy, who had been laying on one of the cots before sitting up at the sound of their name, “Go on and get some bus fare for this one.”

Archer nodded and went into the room where Venatici had come from. They weren’t gone long, and sprinted over with $3 balled up in their fist. Pavo pointed to Rhodie, and they held out their fist so Rhodie could take the money. They accepted it, and Archer ran back over to their cot and laid back down. Rhodie was a bit baffled by their movement, but didn’t question it further.

Venatici leaned down to Rhodie, “Go on and make sure you find a stripey fellow next month, ok sweetpea? And when you find them, make sure you do to them what they did to that poor civilian.” She kissed the top of their head.

Rhodie turned around and headed back up the concrete stairs, careful not to trip on the wires. They could still hear the conversation between Pavo and Venatici as they climbed.

“Crux didn’t do that.”

“Bullshit. I know they did, they went to Phoenix a few months ago.”

“Ph-phoenix? Really? I wouldn’t expect that from them.”

“There’s something happening with them, I think the power’s gone to their head.”

Rhodie didn’t like the sound of the conversation, so they hurried up the steps silently. They closed the door at the top and took off, somehow able to smell where they were before they went down. Once they got to the top of the hill they looked back, and noticed a few figures dart back into the trees. Oh shit. They started running back, feeling their legs scream in pain. It felt like…no, no it couldn’t be it wasn’t the right time for it. They were just sore from having to move so much.

They flew back to civilization, screeching into the church. They could barely talk but once they could they broke down crying, asking if they could use the phone. The priest showed them into his office, and they called their mom. They couldn’t hold back anymore, they were having a full blown panic attack. They did their best to give her directions to the church, but eventually the priest stepped in and gave her proper directions. Once he got off the phone, he did his best to calm them down. They didn’t know who to trust anymore, there were people watching them now. Or at least that’s what they thought. They had so many questions, they didn’t want to be part of this, why them? Why this of all things? They didn’t do anything, did they? Did they do it? They weren’t sure of anything and they cried it out until their mom finally came down, it took her two hours.

Their mom entered the church and walked with purpose into the priest’s office. Rhodie looked up from the corner to see her, and sprang up, keeping her in a tight hug. They never wanted to leave again. Their mom rubbed their back reassuringly, it was going to be ok. She thanked the priest for his kindness and led them out to the car, and played what she called ‘calm down music’ all the way back home.

About half an hour away from their house, they passed a group of men wearing flannels and ball caps, carrying various weapons heading towards the forest. They asked their mom if she knew what that was, she sighed and told them they’d found a group of people doing rituals in the woods.

“I don’t want you going out there alone anymore. Not until they clear those folks out.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be alone.” they were being honest, they were going to arrange for a shift change tomorrow. They weren’t going to go out at night from then on.

#doubt #rhodie #blood tw #gore tw #religion tw #stories #sfw

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