#Moonstone and the Tired Tailor

[nerdasaurus1200]

New fic idea I’m gonna post here so I don’t forget it.

A few months after Cap takes in Cass and she finally gets better, Arianna finally puts her foot down and decides that she and Cap are taking Cass shopping for stuff cause the poor girl only has the one green dress and it’s starting to get thin.

The whole trip took almost the entire day, mostly because Cass kept looking for ink and paper so she could try to map out every shop.

Their first stop is at the tailor, where they take Cass’s measurements and get her a few new dresses. To the tailor’s confusion she insists on just basic colors like blue and green and brown.

Then naturally they stop at Feldspars to get a pair of sturdy shoes for her. Feldspar accidentally encourages Cass to open up and they have a small chat in Saporian before they leave the shop.

And then of course they head to the toy store. Cap is checking out some stuffed animals and dolls when all of a sudden they’ve lost Cass! They look up and down the aisles and Arianna finds her just enchanted with a spinning top. After a little encouraging, Cass decides she wants to have it. And with Mr Hooty and Commander Whinny and General Lion, her plushy army has finally begun.

And of course they stop by Xavier’s for a quick visit and Cass spies a beautiful dagger just her size with moonstone embedded in the handle. It takes Cap a little convincing but they end up getting that too.

After all the shopping and mapping out the random buildings Cass is starting to get a little tired. Oh, but Arianna saved the best stop for last, the bookstore. Cause every little girl needs a bunch of books to read. Cap makes a beeline for the mythology section and gets a kids book on Greek Mythology and another on Coronan mythology. With Arianna’s help baby Cass grabs a cartography book from the top shelf (Cap: Your highness isn’t that a little advanced for her?

Arianna: You’re never too young to learn about maps, Caspar. Besides, she loves looking at my maps when I work. ^_^”). Naturally Cap also gets the junior edition of Primrose’s biography, snd Cass begs for a book all about horses.

But ohhh the best book of all, the one that catches her eye the most. Cass sees it on a shelf just too tall for her to reach. A young Saporian girl, just like her, with a pretty pink feather in her hat, surrounded by the most beautiful creatures Cass has ever seen. Just as beautiful as horses.

Arianna: Cassandra? Is everything alright darling?

Cassandra: What…are…those???

Arianna: Oh, those are dragons, my lovely.

Cassandra: Dragons?

Captain: Oh right, this book came out recently. Ramona and the Seven Dragons.

Cassandra: There are seven?? 😳

Captain: Do you want this one too kiddo?

And Cass looks at Cap and Arianna, then the book, then back at them again and gives them the most excited little nod.

[beelikestrees]

Rainbow Gravestones

Not very far away from here, Just beyond the river docks, Where Yew Street meets Dove’s Creek There sits an ancient cemetery Where, instead of ghosts and broken eyes, There lives a thousand gleaming rainbow gravestones.

Some are carved from marble, White inlaid with grey and gold, Others from obsidian, Shining black against the ever-dying grass; There are red ones made of ruby And from jade and emerald come all the shades of green; There are blue stones made from sapphire And clear ones carved from diamond and pale pearl; The pink ones are made from kunzite and the purple ones from jade; Orange ones are formed from hunks of hardened amber; Moonstone makes the silver And Topaz is the careful gold.

I do not know why there is a cemetery there, I only know it is; And how the stones are safe I do not understand, Though I have seen how more times than I can count.

The city sends officials often, To ask why the plot has not been turned into an office Or a new clean block of homes, But when we show them they stop talking and simply watch. The city never sends the same officials twice, Though sometimes I think I see them at the gate.

Thieves, too, are often frozen by this sombre garden - I see them sometimes, walking there at night, They arrive with dreams of wealth and they do get through the gates, Though they never get much farther than that.

We do not know who is buried there - Not who they loved or where they lived, Nobody ever recognizes the names, And the numbers are the one part of the yard That time has taken with it as a gift for a long-forgotten goddess.

You can visit there, If you do not intend it harm, You can breeze right through the iron gate And walk among the shining rocks. The graveyard only freezes those who mean to harm it.

And all of us who live here, In these tired homes along the docks, Visit often and with flowers. Every month the old butcher's boy cuts the grass, And the old woman who makes pies in the house across the road - She drops them off on Fridays And always has a pristine dish to make the Sunday roast in.

Not very far away from here, Just beyond the tailor’s and the grocer’s stop Where Yew Street meets Dove's Creek, There sits an ancient cemetery Where, instead of death and crying hearts, There lives a thousand gleaming rainbow gravestones.

[heckyeahponyscans]

G1 My Little Pony comic #6, “Moonstone and the Tired Tailor”

[aldbooks]

I know it’s not in the prompts but I have a request. Could you make a scene (oneshot?) for elucien where Lucien finds Elain alone on a balcony. She’s drunk. They talk and she tells him how she feels trapped and overprotected by everyone and sometimes she gets a “little” drunk when it feels like too much. And they also have all the confession stuff about the whole mates thing.

His scent reached her before he did and she nearly groaned. Why did he always have to find her? She thought she'd hidden well this time. She'd spent some time exploring the moonstone palace the last time they'd been here and had found a hidden alcove that overlooked the mountain range below, protected from the cold and brutal winds by a barrier of warm air. She liked to imagine she could see all the way home to the human lands from here. 

Rhysand and Feyre had been holding court in the mountaintop palace with Eris and a few key members from the Hewn City in order to strike some deal involving Kier's Darkbringers for some purpose Elain had not been privy to. There was a lot of information she was not privy to, she was learning, though no one seemed to hold the same reservations in regards to keeping secrets when it came to Nesta. 

So, when it all got to be too much and she was tired of smiling politely and standing around like a pretty ornament while she was left out of every conversation in the room, she would sneak out with a bottle of sweet fae wine and hide away until the party was over. No one usually noticed. No one ever seemed to notice her absence or presence anymore. But he did. And he'd followed her. 

Lucien had been invited as a means of appeasing his older brother, Feyre had said. Though she'd noticed that neither brother seemed particularly comfortable in the other's presence. In fact, no one seemed to care much for his presence here tonight and he'd seemed just as out of place as she had felt. She'd wondered why he'd bothered to stay at all. He, at least, had the power to leave. If she had the magic required to winnow, she hadn't yet learned it and no one was likely to teach her, just as they hadn't bothered to try and teach Nesta. 

When she felt him settle against the column at her back, she sighed internally, tipping her head back to drain the last of the bottle. Huh. When had she drank that much? The bottle had been full when she'd taken it... 10 minutes ago? Or was it an hour?

"What do you want?" She asked sullenly, sliding down to the floor and letting the bottle in her hand roll away from her. 

She saw the toe of his boot catch the bottle, turning it to see the label before gently pushing it further away. "That's dangerous stuff, my lady," he said. Always so formal. 

She grunted in response. A decidedly unladylike noise but she didn't much care at the moment if he found her ladylike or not. It seemed unlikely in any case with her knees pulled up to her chest, her skirts in a crumpled heap around her and one gossamer sleeve sliding down to bare her shoulder. 

A hiccup escaped her and she couldn't suppress a giggle at the sound. 

"Are you alright?" Lucien's low voice sent a shiver of awareness through her, reawakening her senses. She'd almost forgotten he was there already, but now she could hear the steady beating of his heart and smell his rich, warm scent all around her. Gods he smelled good.

What had he asked again?

She tilted her head back and squinted up at him. The soft light of the lantern hanging high above made his hair appear like it was glowing. The large mass of his body, tall and muscular and encased in perfectly tailored clothes... he was always so well dressed. He reminded her a bit of the high society gentlemen from back home. Immaculately dressed and immaculately mannered. He towered above her but, rather than feeling intimidated or afraid, the invisible bond between them thrummed pleasantly in their chest making her feel perfectly safe and protected in his presence. 

And this lighting... he had always been good looking. She'd heard so many comment in his looks. Males and females alike. Everyone seemed to love to look at her mate. Truth be told, so did she. And in this low light, he looked so- "pretty."

She didn't realize she'd said the word aloud until he cocked one perfectly sculpted brow, the corner of his lips quirking up at the side. "I beg your pardon, lady? What's pretty?"

Oh bother. She hadn't meant for him to hear that.  Normally, she'd be mortified for having admitted such a thing in his hearing, but she hadn't the energy to feel embarrassed at the moment. Her head had taken on a light, floaty feeling, her body felt warm and heavy and everything seemed utterly blissful. She felt a dopey smile spread over her face before the world seemed to tilt beneath her. Oh, no. That was her tilting. Towards the ground. 

She watched Luciens eyes widen before he leapt forward, catching her before she fell sideways, precariously close to the edge of the open balcony that lacked an edge like all the others in this palace. His hands, large and warm, wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her upright and then dragging her further inside the room and further from the edge. She heard him mutter a curse as he settled down beside her, presumably to be within easy reach in case her body decided to pitch sideways again. 

"Cauldron, how much did you have drink, woman?"

Another giggle left her as she leaned closer into his delicious warmth, her nose a mere inch from his cheek. "I'm not a woman anymore. Not a human anymore. I'm not a lady either, for that matter. My father was a merchant. I'm just a miss."

A smile played on his lips as he set her upright again, putting some distance between their faces and bodies. "Your sister is a High Lady. You and your other sister are afforded that honorific by virtue of your relationship."

"Does that mean I should be calling you 'lord'?"

She could have sworn he flinched, but he covered it well.

"Technically, as the son of a High Lord, yes, I was born with that title. But almost no one uses it. Especially since I left Autumn."

"Why did you leave?" She asked. She'd been curious since the first time she'd heard someone hint that he was no longer welcome in his home. She'd not wanted to show any interest in the male fate had apparently decided was her match without consulting her on the matter and had thus never asked. 

Lucien pulled back slightly, clearly surprised. For some reason, the action drew her attention down to his mouth. His lips were full and soft looking and she idly wondered how they'd feel on hers.

Then she realized they see moving. He was speaking to her. She forced herself to refocus on him and hear his words. When did he get so close? Oh, she'd leaned into him again. 

"Sorry, what was that?"

His eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement. "I said I'm surprised your sister did not tell you."

"No one talks about you," she said before realizing how that would sound. Something flickered in his gaze. Not hurt, exactly, more like resigned acceptance. 

"No," he said, turning his gaze to the night sky. "I suppose they wouldn't."

For a long moment, he said nothing, and she took the opportunity to study him, reading the emotions that lingered under the surface. There was a deep sadness there, something like grief. For his home? His family? Something else?

"Will you tell me?" She asked quietly.

He sighed softly, resting his head back on the stone column as he continued to watch the stars. "There was-" she heard him swallow audibly before beginning again. "There was, once, a female... a village girl, lively and beautiful but she was what many High Fae considered 'lesser'. My father certainly did."

His mouth tightened and she could feel the faint pangs of guilt and sorrow that echoed down the bond from him. Her heart began beating a bit faster. 

"He decreed that she was beneath me, that no son of his would be with anything less than a noble born female. When I refused to give her up..."

She was hanging on his every word now. She liked to imagine the kind of life she might have had had Graysen not given her up so easily. If he had loved her enough to stand by her. To have the love of such a male, one willing to defy his own father, a powerful High Lord...

"Did you leave Autumn for her?" She asked breathlessly. 

Lucien's breath caught. "Not exactly. " he shifted his seat, repositioning his legs so one was drawn up to rest his arm across. He still kept his gaze on the blanket of stars spread before them but did not object as she practically curled herself around his other arm, resting her chin on the tip of his shoulder so she could watch his beautiful face. 

"I had thought she was my mate-" he paused here, allowing her to understand the meaning of his words. When she did, it was her breath that caught. 

"You're my mate." The words held new meaning now. She'd heard the anguish in them that night. The quiet despair. At first, she'd foolishly thought it was because he did not want a human for a mate. As Graysen had not wanted a fae for a wife. She'd thought he'd seen her as a burden. But no, that despair was because he thought he'd already found his mate. Had given up his home for her, only to learn it was all for naught.

Gods, what did he truly think of her? Did he despise her? And what had happened to this girl? The one he'd given up everything for?

"I'd been ready to marry her, to give up my title. I'd never expected to be High Lord, and was happy to leave my brothers to fight for it. But my father would not be denied..." 

A feeling of dread began to creep into her gut. She'd heard the others talk about Beron and his cruelty. How his sons took after him, though she'd never gotten that impression from Lucien. He was different. And while she wasn't inclined to think Eris was as cruel as he liked to appear, she could easily see how he'd gotten that reputation. 

"The night we'd planned to elope, my brothers found us before we could leave. Dragged us both before my father, for once his court was not present. I suppose he wanted no witnesses to this 'embarrassment'. He-" he cleared his throat and again she felt his guilt and grief. "He had us separated, had my brothers hold me down and made me watch as he... as he killed her."

Elain drew back with a gasp, a hand flying to her mouth. Lucien's face was colder than she'd ever seen it. 

"I'm not sure what else he had planned for me, he wasn't one to let disobedience go, but I'm sure it would've been deeply unpleasant. I didn't stick around to find out. I broke free and I ran. At first I tried to take shelter in the forest villages, but I think they all knew what had happened. None would help me, wether because they feared my father or because they blamed me, I'm not sure. But my brothers were hot on my heels so I kept running."

"Eventually, I crossed the border to Spring. Tamlin was there and at first I thought he'd kill me for crossing into his territory uninvited. Instead, he leapt passed me and killed my one of my brothers as he crossed over behind me. I killed another who tried to attack me... the other wisely stayed in Autumn. I watched him take in the bodies of our brothers as Tamlin tossed them back over the border, then he disappeared. Tamlin, to my eternal surprise, offered me a place in his court rather than kill me too and there I stayed until-"

"Until Tamlin took Feyre."

Lucien nodded slowly and said nothing more. She could still feel that faint sense of grief, but his voice had been steady as he told her the story. The same sort of quiet way she'd heard old widows recount stories of their husbands. Memories of the long dead. 

"How long has it been?" She asked. He answered without hesitation. 

"Two hundred and thirty four years."

Her heart squeezed tightly in her chest. Almost two and a half centuries and he still remembered her, still grieved her. She wondered what it would feel like, a love like that. True. Lasting. It was what her sisters had found with their mates. What she perhaps might have herself some day...

There were still a few things she needed to know, though. Questions that had plagued her since that fateful moment when she'd felt the bond snap into place. 

"Is that why you stay away?"

Lucien blinked as though waking and turned to look at her. The russet of his good eye in the low light was captivating and the gold metal of the other shone gently as it focused on her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean is- she-"

"Jesminda," he offered. 

She repeated the name, testing the sound. The name of his great love. "Jesminda. Do you stay away because you still love her?"

He studied her for a moment, his head shaking almost imperceptibly. "No," he said eventually. "No, not because of that. I don't-" he paused, seeming to search for words. "I think there will be a part of me that always cares for her, but I think I stopped loving her like that a long time ago. I feel guilt that she died because of my own stubbornness. What kind of life might she have lived if I'd given her up like Beron wanted? I still sometimes grieve the life we might have had but- we were so young. I was just a boy really. We could have been happy together, but if things had not happened the way they did, had I not gone to Spring- there are so many people I might not have met-"

"Feyre," she said. He nodded. 

"Yes. Feyre, you. So many others. I might never have learned the truth about the Night Court. Might not have seen as much of the world as I have... as much as it pains me to admit, I can't regret it."

"Then why do you stay away?"

"Because you wish it," he said simply. "I know you did not ask for any of this, no more than I did. And I know my presence discomfits you, so I've kept my distance, tried to respect your wishes..." his gaze was fully focused on her, intense and hypnotic. "Unless you're telling me that is not the case?"

Was it? She wasn't entirely sure herself. Instead she asked, "why do you keep coming back? I've given you no encouragement, you have no other connection here besides my sister, why keep returning?"

A sigh as he turned back to the sky. "I'm sure by now you've heard the fae consider mate bonds sacred-"

"So if not for the bond you wouldn't be here?" Elain's heart dropped. It was a thought that had been in the back of her mind, but until this moment, she hadn't realized how much she had feared just that. 

Lucien gave her a sharp look. "I would ask you not to put words in my mouth, my lady."

She pulled away, her cheeks heating. "I'm sorry."

He gave the smallest nod and looked away again. "I told your sister when we left the Spring Court that I wanted to meet you, even just once, to know if this bond was worth fighting for." Elain's heart stopped altogether. That had been over three years ago. And still he was here. 

"Because the fae hold these bonds in such high regard, and the pull of the magic was so strong, I couldn't give up until I knew. Without at least trying."

There was a long heavy pause between them. 

"Why did you decide?"

He was silent for so long, she wasn't sure he was going to answer. And then- "when we met the first time, officially- and I pulled on the bond... I'd followed the bond right to you, to your heart. It was covered in prickly vines, encased in iron, carefully guarded. But it called to me. I could feel who you were. What you needed, what you craved, and I wanted to give it to you, but I knew you weren't ready. So I gave you space and kept coming back to see if you might have changed your mind. And so you would not think I had abandoned you."

Something within her cracked. She thought of the time she'd wasted, pining over the mysterious shadow singer from afar. He'd seemed like what she'd needed- no, wanted, at the time. So different from the men who had courted her before. Different from Graysen, from Lucien... 

"I was willing to let you- do what you needed with him," Lucien said, as though reading her thoughts. He tapped his temple. "You think very loudly sometimes. You might want to ask Feyre or Rhysand to teach you about mental shields."

She ducked her head, cheeks flushing.  "Would you teach me?" The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think them through. Her cheeks flushed, but she would not take them back.

Lucien's eye widened slightly, then he gave her a soft smile. "Gladly."

She returned his smile, allowing her hands to wrap around his arm again as they looked once more at the night sky. "Lucien?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, Elain?" She shivered at the sound of her name. He so rarely said it, it seemed almost intimate.

"Could- could we maybe... start over?"

He blinked, studying her face. Suddenly, he was on his feet and pulling her up along with him. For a moment, her heart sank, think he was leaving her. That he had decided he'd had enough of her, and had given up. To her delight, he merely stepped back a pace, taking her hand and bowing over it in a courtly manner.

"Lucien Vanserra, at your service, my lady."

She could not contain her grin as she gave a slightly wobbly curtsey. "Elain Archeron, sir. It is a pleasure to meet you."

He gave her a roguish grin as he lifted her hand to his lips. "Enchanted."

[witch-of-ren]

Reverse Baptism Ritual

The act of reversing a baptism or undoing a baptism should be a personal experience and one that is deeply connected to you. This allows for personalization and changes to make it your own. Breaking the ties and promises to the Abrahamic God may feel draining or tiring by the end. This is normal and recovery shouldn’t take too long. A good night of sleep should help.

As for materials you may need, I include the use of candles, herbs, and crystals. My instructions will list all but you can skip steps or ignore parts that you choose not to do or can’t do. Again, don’t be afraid to personalize this ritual. It should be tailored to each individual who chooses to do this.

If you don’t have or can’t get the physical herb or flower, an oil of it will work just fine as a substitute. I also have multiple options for the same uses and intentions.

HERBS:

Basil - Protection and Exorcism (Meant to help break the ties and remove residual energy)

Chamomile - Purification (Cleanse the body and spirit)

Cinnamon - Power (Give an extra kick to the other herbs)

Eucalyptus - Healing (Any trauma or harm the spirit/body is hanging onto will begin to heal)

Lotus - Protection, Lock-Opening (I mean that as in unlocking the oath to break it)

Peppermint - Purification and Healing 

Rosemary - Healing, Protection, Exorcism, and Purification (A good catch-all)

Turnip - Ending Relationships (Optional)

CANDLES:

White - Cleansing and Drawing in Light (Bonus points if it’s a sage candle)

Black - Protection and Removing the Negative (Will also break a harmful relationship)

Blue - Healing (Emotional and physical)

Purple - Spiritual Amplifier

Red - Power (Ritual power amplifier - bonus points for dragon’s blood)

CRYSTALS:

Obsidian - Letting Go, Process Emotions/Experiences

Jasper - Empower Spirit, Support through Stress

Moonstone - New Beginnings

Aquamarine - Healing, Moving On, Inner Strength

Clear Quartz - Healing, Cleansing

Smoky Quartz - Clarity, Emotional Balance

PREPARING FOR THE RITUAL

Preparation is probably one of the most important steps. It’ll make or break the difficulty you have during the actual ritual.

Where are you planning to do it? How long do you think you’ll need?

I recommend leaving at least 30-45 minutes to do the full ritual and let it sink in. I also recommend doing this in a bathtub, but other places where you can have a basin of water can work.

Are there clothes you’d like to wear? Any jewelry?

If you’re using herbs, you can either place them in a dish or pouch, or you can sprinkle them into the water. It’s up to you. You don’t have to use a lot for the effect it needs. The intention just needs to be there.

If you’re using candles, figure out where you want to place them and if you can place them surrounding your bathtub. When I use these specific candles, I usually put my Black one on the left side near my feet, my White on the left near my head, the Purple near my feet on the right side, and the Blue near my middle on the right side (or wherever it sits without fear of falling). The Red candle doesn’t need a specific location. Its presence will automatically do what it’s supposed to.

If there’s a god/goddess you would like to involve, light a candle for them and verbally invite them to assist and lend their energy if they choose. This isn’t necessary at all to do. 

THE RITUAL

Make sure all of your materials and items are ready. This would be all your herbs, candles, crystals, and any other items you wish to use. Bring them to your location.

If you choose to cleanse your space, this would be the time to do it. I don’t feel it’s necessary for this, but it’s a personal preference.

Run the water at your preferred temperature. Once the drain is closed and the water is partially filled, add your herbs. Sprinkling them in, setting the dish nearby, or putting the pouch in the water. Be sure you know how you’re going to clean up the herbs if you’re sprinkling them in. And make certain it isn’t going to irritate your skin.

Once the tub is filled, turn the water off and place the candles in their positions. Light the White candle first, followed by the Black one. The order of color after this doesn’t matter. Lighting the White candle first allows the cleansing of the space before placing the protective barrier of the Black candle. 

If there’s a deity of your choosing that you wish to invite to bear witness or partake, this would be the perfect moment to call upon them and light their candle.

If using crystals, this is also the time to place those in your desired positions. Be certain they aren’t water-soluble.

 Step into the bath and sit down. Take a series of deep breaths and allow yourself to relax. This is where the true ritual begins.

OPTIONAL: If you’d like to draw a sigil on your chest using the water, I’ve provided one below. (Intention/Meaning: My Bond is Broken)

Start at the bottom left, trace part of the rectangle, backtrack, then trace the slanted line.

OPTIONAL: Recite the short incantation below to set your intention. (Two versions: One for those baptized when they couldn’t decide and one for those that chose to but now want to break that.)

An oath I was given without permission, a bond that will now break. God, Father of Heaven, what ties me to you shall be no more and the soul given to you is mine and mine alone. This is my will and I now let go. My bond is broken, and the tether has been released. 

An oath I took once in a time when I chose to follow you. God, Father of Heaven, my ties to you shall be no more and the soul I promised to you is now mine and mine alone. This is my will and I now let go. Our bond is broken, and the tether has been released.

Two Options for this next step:

Submerge yourself entirely beneath the water a total of NINE times. Angel numbers signify this as the number of releasing and breaking. A new chapter is made.

Submerge yourself entirely beneath the water a total of THREE times for NINE seconds each.

Once you’ve completed the Self-Baptism portion, take the time to relax and let the ritual sink in. You can sit until the water starts to become cold or you can get out when you feel you’re ready. I do recommend you sit for a few minutes at the very least.

Before fully getting out, thank the candles and blow them out. Clean any loose herbs out of the water before pulling the drain. Dry yourself off and clean up the rest of your items.

I hope this helps at least one person in their journey.

~ Witch of Ren

[bestworstcase]

i guess it’s still farran yells into the void about poetry hour because i’m still obsessing over the incantations except bitter snow this time. specifically the sun/moon incantations and the decay incantation, the healing incantation is the same.

(but farran, you ask, why would you change them? because LORE, that’s why)

(and also because i love to torture myself i guess)

incantations in general

the 5/5/5/6 trochaic pattern is a convention originating with the moonstone cult in aphelion. in the original aphelionese [which doesn’t really exist yet] they don’t rhyme; the ABCB rhyming scheme is something demanitus did when he translated them into his own language and then replicated when he began to create his own incantations.

there are other incantations from all over the world that follow different patterns. most of them relate to the moonstone, or more specifically to the black rocks, and in general incantations originate wherever a) black rocks break the surface and b) the people living there realize that they respond to song. sundrop incantations are much rarer, since there’s only one sundrop flower, and are mostly found in regions and cultures with a significant underground presence—i.e., where people are more likely to come into contact with the sundrop’s roots.

if i ever get so deep in this that i start writing other incantations please kill me  

the moonstone incantations

for the purposes of bitter snow these are the “original” incantations. i’m not sure they’re the oldest but they’re quite old and they have the distinction of being the only incantations crafted by people who had immediate, direct access to the power being invoked. most incantations, as i said, developed out of interaction between people and the roots of one of the drops, with only an indirect connection to the drops themselves; the aphelionese incantations, by contrast, developed out of the cult’s understanding of what the moonstone actually does, and directly invokes its power. so they’re much more potent.

anyway.

the decay incantation

opal in the dark grant the night to me let the shadows burn and set the spirit free

wither and decay end this destiny break these earthly chains and set the spirit free

in bitter snow lore, the purpose of the moonstone is to control the “shadows” of the sundrop’s power, which it accomplishes by transforming them into the black rocks. these shadows are the natural opposite of the sundrop, so they’re associated with darkness, destruction, corruption, and rot. 

so the literal function of this incantation is to release the sundrop’s shadows from the inert stone form and place them under the caster’s control. (as i’m sure you can imagine, this is catastrophic when it goes wrong.) if the first verse is recited by itself it invokes the sundrop instead—this is unintended and also catastrophic. in either case it’s volatile magic. 

the moon incantation

i outright rewrote this one for bitter snow, not because the original is bad, but because the original is very tailored to cassandra’s usage of it in cassandra’s revenge and i wanted something more in line with my lore. 

crescent high above watching from the skies set the stars ablaze and by your light i’ll rise

let me shake the seas wake me from my lies lend to me your wings and by your light i’ll rise

unlike the decay incantation, this one is calling upon the moonstone’s own power, which is associated with change, transformation, and movement. so it begins with an invocation to the moon and focuses on characteristics associated with the moon (the appearance of stars; the movement of tides; clarity of thought*, light, rising and flight).

(*this is an inversion of the irl folklore associating the moon with madness; in aphelion, with its cultural admiration of the moon, it makes sense to me that the moon would still have folkloric links to the mind but in a positive way. i think the underlying logic here is that it’s easiest to see clearly at night if the moon is full, therefore the association becomes moonlight = clarity.)

it’s also very much a prayer. in canon the sun/moon incantations grant whoever possesses the drops complete control over their power, but i don’t think that is remotely the intention for this incantation in the bitter snow ’verse; the people who crafted it were people who worshipped the moon and the moonstone, and the basic idea here is “loan me your power so i can edify you with it.” possession of the moonstone is irrelevant. even proximity to the moonstone is irrelevant as long as the caster has some preexisting connection to it i.e. the kind of link created by worshipping it. 

of course, for both of these incantations, the closer you are to the moonstone on a... spiritual? level, the more potent its effect will be. e.g., members of the brotherhood would get a much stronger kick from using the moon incantation than your average aphelionese farmer with no special connection to the moonstone, and for someone like cass—who becomes its avatar—the incantation is essentially god mode. likewise, the bigger the kick the harder the crash, so our farmer might feel a bit tired once it ebbs but the brotherhood member would be need a few days to recover and cass is just laid out after.

 the sundrop incantations

these incantations are the ones demanitus wrote for the sundrop based on his understanding of the aphelionese moonstone cult and their incantations. they’re modeled off the aphelionese incantations, but they lack the religious context because demanitus focused on the power of the drops and wasn’t especially interested in the worship aspect. 

the healing incantation

this is the only incantation in bitter snow that’s 100% untouched canon.

flower, gleam and glow let your power shine make the clock reverse bring back what once was mine

heal what has been hurt change the fates’ design save what has been lost bring back what once was mine

demanitus wrote this one first. i sort of imagine him attempting a direct, literal reverse of the decay incantation but eventually giving up in frustration because, unlike the decay incantation, he could never get it to work at range. 

the reason for this is that the decay incantation unleashes the shadows, which are everywhere—literally, they are at the core of the world, the black rocks spread across the whole globe, and the metaphorical “light” of the sundrop’s magic is always creating more—whereas the healing incantation calls on the sundrop’s magic directly and without any preexisting connection with the caster, its magic cannot be drawn from a distance. 

i think a devout priest of corona’s sun cult could have used this incantation at range before frederic uprooted the sundrop, but being eaten and then inhabiting rapunzel sort of... scrambled everything. however, i don’t think demanitus and the sun cult got on very well [because he didn’t care about the religious aspect at all] so he never shared his incantations with them.

gothel did use this incantation from a distance, because her familiarity with and regular use of the sundrop flower created that preexisting connection that is required. however, the effect is weaker from farther away—it’s like heat from a fire where closer = warmer—so in bitter snow, gothel’s regular use of the incantation at range was a matter of daily maintenance, preserving her health and allowing her to age normally, while she made trips to the flower itself to de-age herself every half a century or so.

in the bitter snow ’verse, the sundrop flower was found and uprooted a week before rapunzel’s birth, and then there’s a six month gap between her birth and gothel’s kidnapping. i think gothel goes about three months without realizing that her daily recitation isn’t... working anymore—i picture her cutting herself chopping vegetables or something and trying the incantation and then being like “...fuck” when it doesn’t heal—and then it takes her another three months to figure out what happened and plan her infiltration of the palace. 

in bitter snow, the sundrop being uprooted and then absorbed into baby rapunzel damaged it. to return to the light source metaphor: the magic of the intact sundrop is the light from an electric lamp—steady, bright, casting a regular and predictable shadow—but after the flower is uprooted, the sundrop’s roots stay in the ground while its magic ends up in rapunzel’s hair, and the magic channeled through her hair is more like the light of a candle flame—fragile, dim, casting a flickering and unpredictable shadow.

the sun incantation

the canonical sun incantation worked with the bitter snow lore better than the moon one did; however, since demanitus modeled his sun incantation on the aphelionese moonstone incantation, i wanted the sun incantation to more directly mirror my version of the moon incantation. so instead of rewriting it outright, i took the bits of the canon sun incantation that worked well for me and remixed them.

jewel of the sky blazing high and bright burn away the dark and let my hope ignite

purge my heart of fear restore my fading sight strengthen me with fire and let my hope ignite

for this one, i imagine demanitus attempting to replicate the aesthetic of the moon incantation without quite grasping its religious implications; he looks at the moon incantation and sees a poetic invocation of the moon followed by a request for power but misses how the moon incantation reflects back on and extols the moon itself, so demanitus’s sun version lacks that element of giving anything back. a command, rather than an exchange. 

this one, he considered a success, because he was able to make it work even without having found the sundrop flower itself. what he didn’t realize is that he was able to do so because of how extremely potent this incantation really is—so potent that even somebody like demanitus, who had never even seen the sundrop flower, was able to use it with noticeable effect. 

on a functional level, the purpose of the reflection back to the moon in the moon incantation is to create a whole circuit between the moon and the caster, so that all that power has somewhere to go after the incantation is finished. this sacrifices some power in exchange for making the incantation much safer to use, because the power flows through the caster. they can hold onto it for a while after completing the incantation, but it’s hard, and it requires considerable force of will to do so, because the magic wants to complete the circle by flowing out of the caster and back to the moon. 

demanitus’s sun incantation, by comparison, creates a straight line: power flows from the sun and into the caster, who then becomes a vessel for it. with this incantation, the magic gets dammed up inside the caster, which is what makes it so potent, but it also wants to stay there, and must be forcefully pushed back the way it came when the incantation is finished. and that’s dangerous, because it’s simply too much power for a human body to contain. this is why the sun incantation takes such a severe physical toll on its casters (unless they’re like demanitus, have no other link to the sundrop, and are getting only a tiny fraction of the potential output).

[littledraga]

Moonstone and Sunshine Chapter 4

Chapter 4 is ready! I’ll eventually link these.. (I’ll figure it out eventually, I know there’s a way to do it that doesn’t look messy, just hang in there with me guys!)

The sound of Ignis' phone ringing cuts through his sleep. Jolting awake at the sound he blindly searches for his phone, finding it mostly under his hip. There was no time to ponder how strange that was. Bringing it to his ear, he wasn’t given a chance to speak before Noctis’ panicked voice filled his head.

“What’s going on? Are you alright? Where are you? Did something happen? You haven’t been picking up my calls or texts. Do we need to come get you?” The string of questions went on, and Ignis turned to his alarm to see the time, only it wasn’t on. Checking the time he groaned, he wasn’t one to sleep passed eight in the morning, so it being nearly elven was definitely strange. He could understand why Noctis was distressed.

“I’m sorry, Highness. There must have been a power surge last night. My alarm has been shut off. Allow me to change, and I will be with you shortly, please make sure you’re ready when I get there.” There was a scoff on the other end, Ignis hardly thought this was a laughing matter, but Noctis was at least kind enough to explain himself.

“I’m already on my way there. When you didn’t pick up, I called Gladio. Don’t worry about me. I’ll stay late and make dad have dinner with me or something.” There was a pause, and then Noctis spoke again, nearly a whisper, “Hey, I’m really sorry. For, well for everything.”

Humming quietly, Ignis smiled to himself. He knew how Noctis struggled with his feelings. Those were words he would take to heart. “You are forgiven, Noct. Now, I left my notes from yesterday with the staff. You’ll need the ones from the meeting with Alexander and the culture committee. They want to shift the focus of the winter celebrations away from Shiva because of her mythos with Ifirit. You’ll need all the help you can get with them.”

With a despaired groan and thanks, Noctis hung up the phone, leaving Ignis alone with his thoughts. Well, maybe not alone. Still pressed against his side, Prompto was looking at him with a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” he said with a yawn, burying his face into Ignis’ chest. Smiling Ignis gave the blond a small squeeze as he looked over at his alarm again. Even if there had been a power surge, it should have turned back on telling wrong time, unless the power surge had fried it.

“It’s rather strange that my alarm clock turned off. I apparently missed calls from His Highness. I’ve never been a deep sleeper.” His musing was answered with an impish giggle. Raising a brow, he tilted his head to look properly down at Prompto. He didn't have to ask, Prompto was rather forthcoming.

“I thought you could use some more rest, so I shut it off! Trying to keep your phone quiet was hard though, I’m not used to that kind.” Looking again at his phone, Ignis noticed there were many missed calls from Noctis, Gladiolus as well. There were also many text messages from them.

Mostly a panicked prince threatening to send in the Glaive to find him, but Gladiolus had reported in that he would fill in for Ignis and to just take the day off. He must have assumed Ignis was sick, he thought. That seemed simple enough. Now that that was settled; “Prompto?” Leaning on his arm, he tilted his head in silent confusion.

“It would appear that I have the day off. It’s strange though. I don’t think I’ve ever slept in so late before. I even went to bed early.” The giggle that followed was concerning. For the alarm alone he knew he should be upset if it had been anyone else he would have likely been. Instead, he was more put off by the fact that was the time he had missed to spend with the man still pressed against him.

That was another thing he should have been concerned about, but Prompto had said it was the magic. As long as he kept himself in check, he supposed it was alright. It seemed to make Prompto happy at least.

Prompto’s voice brought him back from his thoughts. “You looked tired last night. I thought the extra sleep would do you good.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow at that. Sitting up himself, leaning back on his elbows, he watched Prompto’s face. “So you kept me asleep? Is that something you’re able to do?” With a mock-innocent expression, Prompto looked away, giving him a less than innocent smirk, but said nothing. Ignis should have been concerned over that, and he was, at least a little. That was not something that could become a habit.

Perhaps it was time to learn more about what it meant to be a fairy. However, the setting was hardly ideal for such a conversation.

“Well, seeing as my schedule has opened up, would you care to spend it with me? We could do some shopping, get you some proper clothes. Snapping your fingers and creating an illusion is hardly good for being out in public.”

Prompto nearly launched himself from the bed before Ignis could finish speaking. He did, however, huff at the mention of snapping fingers. Prompto was quickly digging through the closet to get them a change of clothes. It was enough for Ignis to smile as he pulled himself out of bed. Maybe he didn’t want to admit it, but he was excited to spend the day out with Prompto as well.

Their morning routine went by in a blur, foregoing breakfast to enjoy a light one in a nearby cafe.

Sun hanging high, the city was pleasantly warm. Being the middle of the week, the streets weren’t terribly crowded, leaving them room to breathe as they walked down the sidewalk. Ignis had given Prompto the choice of looking for clothes first or breakfast, and the blond had excited chosen shopping. Ignis had the suspicion this was all rather new for him, but Prompto’s enthusiasm was infectious, and he was excited to let the other man try on and find clothes to his heart’s content. The first shop was a small tailor that Ignis swore by. Sure working for the king gave him access to their tailor, but this little business was one of his favorite places.

“Why don’t we start here? Every man needs a good suit and,” he nodded as a young woman came from behind a curtain. Her hair was dark and flowed around her shoulders in thick unruly waves. Warm dark chocolate eyes took them in, and she smiled a friendly smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.

“Hello! It’s good to see you again, Mr. Scentia. With a friend no less!” Her knowing smile had Ignis feeling the tips of his ears heat up. Clearing his throat, he nodded to Prompto.

“Yes, well that’s actually why I’m here Miss Erwind. Prompto has recently come into my care, and I thought it was appropriate to have a suit made for him.” With a gleeful hum, Miss Erwind grabbed Prompto’s hand, pulling him deeper into the shop.

“Wonderful! Now first, let’s start with the colour shall we?” Holding up a book of fabric she held up a few pages to his chest. Many pages she flipped through quickly, other she gave a thoughtful hum.

“With your hair and skin, I think we’ll play it safe and go with a soft grey. It’s the first suit after all.” Without another word, she snapped the book closed and disappeared again behind the curtain, leaving the men alone.

Prompto smiled, rocking on his heels as he looked around the little shop, eyes seeming to catch on all the colours of the store. Once they landed on Ignis, he grinned wider. “She’s really nice. She’s a good human too!” Ignis couldn’t resist the small chuckle that bubbled in his chest. Nodding his agreement he glanced at the curtain before he spoke softly.

“She truly is. I wish more people would see that.” At Prompto’s confused look, Ignis shook his head, but continued, “She’d from Galahad. Came when she was little with her family. A lot of people did back then. Many people think less of them and think they don’t belong here for one reason or another.” Ignis saw Prompto frown from the corner of his eye and gave a reassuring smile. Before the conversation could continue, she was back again, holding up a  grey suit with a burgundy shirt.

Holding it up to Prompto she gave a nod before she went to work collecting his measurements. She worked quickly, comparing it to the suit she had brought out.

“Alright, I have what I need to get started. Shall I have it sent to your apartment?” With a nod, Ignis handed her his card without concern for the price. He knew her rates better than anyone in the city.

“That would be preferred. Thank you, Miss Erwind.” Ushering Prompto to him, Ignis smiled again when the tailor returned with his card. “And thank you, for always taking such good care of me.”

With a final farewell, the two left the shop to continue their adventure. The streets were lined with various stores, and Prompto was fascinated by every one of them. As much as Ignis would have liked to take him into every store, even his credit card had a limit.

In the end, Prompto had selected a shop that Ignis didn’t think he would have ever set foot in. T-shirts from various bands lined the walls, and popular characters popped out from every shelf. It was only fair to let Prompto have his own style, even if it left Ignis with questions.

Among the licensed shirts there were coloured tanks and tees of almost every colour Ignis had ever seen, Prompto was immediately drawn to them, reaching for a red one. Thumbing through them, he turned to Ignis, “I don’t know my size.”

Ignis laughed out loud at the admittance but stepped forward to look at the selection.

“Well, in my experience it can vary depending on brand or store, so why don’t we try on a couple of different sizes and see what works for you?” Grabbing two tank tops, he ushered Prompto into the changing room while he looked around nearby. They had pants that were wrapped in chains or fabric bands; bondage pants explained the tag. There were women’s corsets hanging freely, and Ignis turned his gaze away. He wasn’t sure he would ever understand this fashion.

As he thumbed through some of the shirts, Prompto came bouncing out in one of the tops. It was form fitting, but not tight. Checking it over, he made a note of the size before sending him back to change. One mystery solved.

Three tank tops a sleeveless leather jacket, and what Ignis thought was an obnoxious amount of patches later, they were stepping out of the store, until he heard Prompto squeal in delight.

In his hands, as he ran over to Ignis, was a pair of faded cureol print jeans. They were possibly the most outlandish things Ignis had ever seen in his life. He at least made sure they were the right size before he brought them up to the register.

Looking into the bags, Prompto was humming a tune that Ignis knew he knew from somewhere. A memory of a memory buried in his mind. Looking through his clothes, Prompto gave Ignis a curious look.

“One pair of pants isn't enough is it?” Smiling a small smile, Ignis nodded as he guided him into another shop, one that was less intended for a specific style. Clothes lined the walls and racks around the department store of nearly every type. A much more extensive selection he thought.

“That’s alright, there’s plenty here, and a better selection as well.”

Prompto took off to a rack of jeans, leaving Ignis with the bags.

Laughing, he followed behind him after giving the bags to the cashier to avoid an unwanted hassle. This time it was a little easier to find his size after they had just gotten his suit measured. He picked a nearly black pair of dark wash and a couple of lighter ones, satisfactory for Ignis.

Ignis helped him pick out a couple of nice shirts, for when he worked up the courage to tell Noctis and the others what he had done. An extra pair of dark slacks and Ignis thought that was good for first time shopping. After a quick trip down an aisle for socks and underwear, they made their way up to the registers and out the door.

Each with bags in tow, Ignis found Prompto still had plenty of energy to spare, bouncing around on his heels at everything they saw. Likely from being locked up in the apartment for the last half a week, Ignis supposed he would go crazy as well, not that he’s ever had the chance to know.

The cafe was another one of Ignis’ favourites. It was a slow time, so most of the tables were empty, his favorite table in the back and against the window was thankfully one of them. Sitting down Prompto’s new clothes he ushered the blond to the counter, ordering a black coffee and a chicken salad sandwich for himself. Prompto, however, was struggling to make up his mind.

“Um, I’ll just copy Ignis. Yeah, that should be fine.” Chuckling, Ignis shook his head and raised his hand behind Prompto.

“It’s rare for someone to enjoy black coffee and mine tends to be stronger than most. I won't stop you, but I have to warn you it’s a rather bitter taste without milk and sugar.” Lips forming a silent ‘O,’ Prompto went back to the menu. The barista came to their rescue.

“Why not try the Moogle Berry Frappy? It’s very popular and very sweet.” Glancing at Ignis sheepishly she continued, “Ignis would probably hate it, but really if you like sweet things that’s a good sign.” She giggled quietly at his frown, but Ignis would hardly say she was wrong. So the order was placed.

Sitting down, waiting for their breakfast, Prompto started digging through his bags again, excitedly going on about what they bought. Ignis was fighting the urge to check his phone. It was rare to get time off, and he wanted to enjoy it properly. His fingers still itched to check his mail, and see what needed to be done.

“Prompto, would you care to explain to me more about what it means to be a fairy?” His voice was quiet, not quite a whisper. They were near the back of the lobby, and there were few others in the shop, but he thought it best to be cautious. Prompto beamed up at Ignis and nodded. In his excitement, he was still able to keep his voice down, Ignis was grateful he didn't have to explain.

“Well, being a fairy is mostly finding out what you want to do with yourself. But for me, it’s waiting to be summoned.” Ignis raised a brow, but Prompto cut him off.

“I wasn’t like, stuck in the book, but like the others, we’re a part of it we can feel it I guess. So we still live our lives, but you never know when, poof, you belong to someone for awhile.” Ignis was unsure he liked this arrangement.

“I’ve gathered that you’ve been summoned before, how long does the spell last?” It seemed a simple enough question. One Ignis should have asked days ago.

Instead of answering right away, Prompto ran his fingers over the green stones around his neck. He touched them, affectionately. “Not all the spells are the same, but for me,” he held up the stone just enough to get Ignis’ attention. “As long as these are mine, I’m yours.”

Ignis nodded, he thought he understood. “As long as you wear the necklace you stay?”

Giggling the blond shook his head, dropping the stones when their food and coffee came. They both gave their thanks, taking a sip of their respective drinks. Ignis nearly spit out the coffee, Prompto, however, wasn’t able to refrain. Quickly grabbing up a napkin, Ignis cleaned the table and leaned over to clear Prompto’s face.

“It seems she switched our drink orders.” Switching the cups, Ignis pulled up the lid on his, relieved to see the dark liquid instead of liquid sugar. Prompto was still making a face, looking at his cup with apprehension. Ignis was unable to hold back a small chuckle.

“She played a trick on us, didn’t she?” He didn’t sound angry if anything he was amused, if not for the bitter look on his face. Slowly, Prompto brought the drink to his lips taking a tentative sip. Eyes wide he took a full drink, humming happily.

They sat in silence, enjoying breakfast before it seemed Prompto remembered what they were talking about.

“Right, right. I don’t have to be wearing it, see,” as he spoke, Prompto pulled off the stones and sitting them on the table in front of him. Nothing had changed.

“They belong to me still, so I’m still here. When you’re done with me, you just tell me to give them back.

Then I go back home.” Ignis looked the peridot over, afraid to touch it. “Is that what I should do, then?” He asked, not sure if Prompto even wanted to be here still. In response, Prompto grabbed up the stones and held them to his chest. That answered his question well enough. Instead of pressing, he had other questions he wanted to know.

“So the book, there were other spells and summons. Are you able to summon more than one?” A small nod as Prompto chewed his sandwich, a bit of the dressing smearing on his cheek. Ignis hid his smile behind his coffee before tapping his own cheek.

Seeming to understand, Prompto attempted to lick it off his cheek. Ignis couldn’t stop the laugh that followed, even as he reached out and grabbed a napkin to wipe off what Prompto couldn’t reach. They continued enjoying their meal in silence until Ignis thought of another question.

“In art and stories, fairies always have wings. Was that a misconception?”

Smiling around his drink, Prompto giggled. Giving a dramatic look around them, he leaned in closer and whispered, “It isn’t so much a matter of having them or not. It’s more if we use them or not.” With that he went back to his meal, finishing the last bite, that seemed to be all the answer he was willing to give.

Thinking of more questions, Ignis noticed that Prompto was watching something. Or someone he discovered as he followed his line of site. A little girl with dark, thick curly hair was holding who Ignis assumed, was her father’s hand as they waited for their order. She was bouncing on her heels and begging for a muffin.

“We don’t have extra money for a muffin. We’ll be eating shortly.” The girl pulled a face, but was otherwise silent, admitting defeat. While she was obediently silent, she still stared at a chocolate chip muffin.

Beside him, Prompto giggled. The father was watching the barista as she worked, back to them. When Ignis looked again, there was a muffin on the counter, chocolate chip. Raising a brow, he turned to Prompto who only held a finger to his lips before pointing back to the father and daughter. Handing over the coffee, the girl at the counter bagged the muffin and handed it over.

“I didn’t order a muffin,” he said as he stopped himself from reaching for the bag. The woman shrugged and offered it again.

“It’s out of the case so you can have it anyway.” The little girl squealed with delight as her father handed her the bag, thanking the woman for her kindness. Once they left Prompto leaned against the back of his chair, giggling softly.

“You’re rather happy after that exchange.” Giggling again, Prompto looked at Ignis and nodded.

“It’s only fair that if he got a treat that she got one too, don’t you think?” Ignis nodded, he thought the same, but still, “Prompto? Did you happen to move that muffin?” Giggling again, Prompto just shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s only fair.” Sighing, Ignis shook his head with a smile. Standing up, they gathered their things. On their way out of the cafe, Ignis couldn’t help but noticed that the counter of cream, sugar and other ends had been rearranged from when they entered. Turning to Prompto, he was graced with another giggle. Maybe coffee had been a poor choice.

The duo spent the rest of the day walking through a nearby park. Prompto had greeted every animal they had seen, even the insects, albeit those were from a distance. They had settled into comfortable conversation. Prompto was never more than a step away from Ignis, turning to grab his hand and pull him off the trail to meet ‘friends,’ even if he often scared them away.

Being so close to Prompto for so long, Ignis longed to intertwine their fingers. Heat crept into his cheeks, and he tried to push the thoughts away. He needed to keep himself in check. Still, as long as Prompto was smiling, Ignis would persevere.

Once the sun had begun to set Ignis had ushered them home. As soon as they stepped in the door, Prompto was off with the bags, excited to put away his new clothes. Ignis made his way to the kitchen, after a long day out a good meal was certainly called for. Curry sounded good.

“Ignis! This is so good! It’s so hot. I think my tongue is going to fall off.” Ignis laughed as Prompto stuck out his tongue, trying to prove that it was, in fact, going to fall out. Once the dishes were cleared they made their way to the living room, Prompto flopping gracelessly on to the couch. Ignis found his eyes roaming over Prompto’s back thinking about what he had said earlier.

“What did you mean it was a matter of using your wings?” Rolling over, Prompto smiled. Getting up slowly, he put his hands on his hips.

“Wanna see ‘em? They’re pretty cool.” Ignis gave a nod in reply, watching as Prompto moved to stand in the middle of the room. Holding his hands together in front of him there was a beat of silence before the sound of a single wing beat filled the room.

On his back outstretched to be easily seen were long silver wings. No, not silver, Ignis thought, but moonstone. Each gleaming feather caught the light, casting soft purple and blue hues against themselves.

Prompto spun on his toes to give a better view. The feathers ruffled at the movement their colours shifting hues as stained glass windows in a changing light. Ignis had never seen anything quite so beautiful.

In awe of the sight, Ignis nearly missed Prompto trip on his own feet. In an instant, the wings were gone, and Prompto was stumbling on his feet, trying to keep his footing. Stepping forward, Ignis grabbed him, hands clutching his sides.

Prompto let out a high pitched whine, trying to wiggle away from Ignis. Confused, Ignis tried to adjust his grip to get Prompto on his feet. There was a squeal, and Prompto nearly fell trying to get away.

“Stop, I’m ticklish!”

“Oh?” With his own grin, Ignis held on to Prompto tighter fingers gently pressing into the skin. Laughing, Prompto tried to get away as Ignis tickled him, whining that it wasn’t fair. Laughing along with the blond, he jumped when the lights suddenly popped and turned off. They both stood still a moment before Prompto turned to Ignis with a huff.

“I told you to stop!” Laughing again, Ignis let Prompto sit back on the couch.

“Tickling fairies burns out bulbs, that’s an interesting fact isn’t it?” Chuckling to himself, Ignis busied himself with changing the bulb, frowning when it wouldn’t turn back on. Giving a confused hum, Ignis checked the rest of the lights and the breaker.

“Hm, tickling a fairy burns out the breaker. That’s very interesting.” He grabbed a couple of candles and brought them to the living room where Prompto was curled up on the couch. Prompto looked up to Ignis and buried his face in his knees. “I’m sorry.”

Sitting the candles down on the coffee table, Ignis chuckled again. “It’s quite alright if there’s anyone to blame I believe it should be me for tickling you, yes? Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a night by candlelight. I sent a message to the manager of the building, and it should be fixed sometime tomorrow, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Sitting on the couch, he watched as Prompto slowly uncurled himself.

Watching the fire as it danced on the wicks Prompto extended his hand to it. Ignis gasped out when the fire flared up and spread to three sources of light upon his hand. They spun in lazy circles around each other and bounced on top of each other.

“More fairy magic?” Ignis asked and was surprised with Prompto shook his head. Turning to look at Ignis he smiled warmly.

“Anyone can do this. Wanna try?” Holding his hand out, Ignis took a deep breath before doing the same. He had no reason to fear, Prompto wouldn’t do something to hurt him.

“You just have to feel the fire, not the heat, but the fire. Feel how it moves and you can will it to do what you want it to.” Carefully Prompto lay his hand over Ignis’. One of the flames bouncing onto Ignis’ palm.

Wincing, Ignis prepared to move his hand away, but the pain never came. Watching the flame in his hand, burning on nothing but air, he tried to do just what Prompto had said. It sounded like using the crystal, feeling the power that was in the flame, and he felt it. It was warm, and it felt like it was dancing over his palm. He could do this.

Ignis willed the small flame to roll around his palm and half up his arm before it came to rest on his fingertips. Smiling, he let it bounce from one hand to another before he rolled it back to the candle from whence it came.

Prompto clapped, “That was wonderful!”

Blushing, Ignis rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you, for your assistance as well. I’m sure I couldn’t have done that without you.”

This time Prompto laughed and shook his head before letting out a yawn. “I didn't do anything but tell you what to do. Fire is connected to you. You must be really good at magic.” Before he had a chance to think about what that could mean, Prompto was leaning against him, burying his face in Ignis’ chest. Wrapping his arms around the blond, Ignis leaned back against the couch, trying to make them both more comfortable.

Heat spread through his skin at the touch and Ignis hummed in appreciation. Soft moments like this and it seemed Prompto’s magic was stronger, relaxing Ignis nearly to sleep.

Magic. That’s right, Ignis reminded himself, this is all artificial.

[readfelice-blog]

moominland chronicles zwölf :: no more no poo

It’s not late today, I’m actually up fresh and early on a cold and clear Sunday morning, just listening to the new Aphex Twin EP ((Collapse)) (no bandcamp though, it’s warp, so here’s the best link: https://warp.net/news/aphex-twin-collapse-ep-out-now/ ) I’m playing it through my little blue bose mini, I got sick of hearing everything on my laptop speakers, its, hang on, it’s very hard to concentrate when listening to Aphex I’ve never heard before actually, I think I’ll change to Mary Lattimore (https://marylattimoreharpist.bandcamp.com ) or some calypso and leave this for later…

Very weird :slash: perfect, just wandered onto Bandcamp and they have a feature on Calypso on their home page, so rather than Robert Mitchum’s palatable western reincarnation of this musical style I’m going to listen to the genuine thing. Here’s the link, have a look yourself: https://daily.bandcamp.com/2018/09/14/calypso-classics-list/

Gosh I love that about life, little serendipitous moments that guide you along, there is serendipity on the internet to.

Ok, back to whatever I’m babbling about today.

I’m torn this morning as I sit in front of my laptop, do I talk about accepting my femininity? Do I talk about Hackney? Do I talk about saying no? Or do I talk about being an apothecary? Let’s go with the latter, it’s a nice tie in with last week and all the witching biz and Shakespeare quote. I will still be a feminine girl from Hackney that says no in 7 days time.

When I first met one of my Berlin mentors it was a typically unusual affair, I rolled up to the glass fronted roastery in Kreuzberg and discovered that our hair was not just similar, it was in fact identical, if you know me then you know that’s an extremely rare occurrence. I then proceeded to sit on a table by accident which collapsed, she laughed and I guess it was an icebreaker. She was wearing a gold necklace, some symbol I didn’t recognise, it sat proudly around her neck and as we wove our way around art and life it was hard not to notice that me and this woman both came from the same shimmering forest kingdom, two creatures chipped out of rose quartz meeting for the first time on the heat lashed streets of Berlin.

This meeting was supposed to be an interview by the way, it was my introduction into the sun.

What’s this got to do with being an apothecary Felice?

Well, on our verbal travails we of course touched on the subject of our hair, I can’t really remember what condition mine was in then; but her’s was defined, luscious and plump. She told me she had gone no plastic for several months and during this period had started to make her own beauty products.

“But doesn’t your hair get dirty?” I asked bewildered.  

“I just wash it with bicarbonate of soda when its dirty.” She responded

And so began my curiosity in mixing up your own broths for all sorts of things, the chrome browser on my iphone suddenly became riddled with a myriad of womens battle cry, imploring me to try the no poo method, it makes your hair shinier! More luscious! You won’t recognise it! But first of all you have to go through 3 months of shit hair, before it magically recombines itself, as if it were a pokemon that would evolve, my jigglypuff hair could become wigglytuff hair, it just needed exposure to the great moonstone that is bicarbonate of soda.

Now months have followed this, in those months I have become a much more whole person, part of my time has been spent though not throwing clear jar’s away so I could store all sorts of unsavoury botched mixes within them.

First off, when I was ready, I took myself to the middle class mecca that is LPG Biomarkt on Kollwitzstrasse, for the first time,  a wonderland of exorbitantly expensive tempeh, alkolholfrei bier, modest vegetables in wicker baskets and a rather large section dedicated to organic beauty products. I hummed and haa’d over coconut oil, (do I get the liter of cooking oil that costs half the price of the one next to the face creams? - I did) shea butter, wild honey (what is wild honey? Is this 4euro jar in my hand wild or not?), I touched and explored the scents of essential oils for the first time, nothing seemed good, but I love that rose argan pflegebalsam that cost 15euro I bought a week ago, let’s say I’m a rose girl.

Now I know to much rose scent makes me feel queasy: perhaps because I’m made from rose quartz, like asterix I can’t drink the potion.

Then there was the matter of soap, the eternal hunt for pure castile soap, I know I can buy it on amazon but I am stubbornly determined to find it in Berlin, alas LPG was not its keeper, so after nervously asking the shop assistant several times I settled on some pure soap bar instead, then I bundled up all my belongings and returned home.

Pure castile soap is already liquid, a soap bar is fat, so when I carefully spread my plunderings out across my work surface and started hacking at the soap it dawned on me that my body wash was going to be a little different, I spent a stupid amount of time melting it, putting it in a little food processor, returning it to the pan, in the end it smelt weird and didn’t look right, but stubbornly I poured it into what used to be a gherkin jar, let it cool, then screwed the lid back on and placed it in my bathroom, officially an apothecary now.

And I used it until it was finished, which took a while, always curling my nose up a little when I opened the lid, having to buy a loofah to spread it over as it wasn’t something I could casually lather myself up in. I’d also made some strange yellow goo out of beeswax and oil which felt waxy and also didn’t smell quite right, this was my body butter, to go with my body wash.

Time moved on, the cleaning job was awful then fantastic, then transcendent, I’d wash my tired sweaty body with this lotions and potions, never settling on quite the right smell but also adamant that there was nothing for me in DM (DM is the superdrug of Germany, but better, for anyone not familiar with German proprietors and confused by this reference) and I’d get this medley right in time, its a process, I get my art right with a little work, I can get this right to, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Whilst this was all going on my hair was getting tattier and tattier, wiry, distressed, flat on top and scatty at the ends, but again, this is the interning I must do so one morning I wake up to gleaming locks, so full of body and rich in colour that others will fall back in admiration wherever I go.

Several saturdays were spent mixing up bicarb and water, scooping it into my hair and scrunching up my face because the salty mixture stung my eyes.

You can also make your own home cleaning products, did you know? Well apparently you can, vinegar, bicarbonate of soda and that elusive liquid soap, just spread it all over everything you own and hey presto, your house will look like it’s never been used.

So then I started to make really horrid mixtures to take to other people's houses, this was the beginning of the end really. For a week my poor clients were subjected to all sorts of strange concoctions and smells, yes it works, but the thing is its not some kind of miracle brew that you are making, its just odd smelling gunge that’ll make things shiny. And nothing, absolutely nothing, will mellow out the smell of vinegar, there is no essential oil on this fair planet of ours that can tackle the sickly nausea inducing fumes that enter your nasal passage when you spray vinegar all over everything, so I was in Wedding in a bathroom feeling like some kind of pioneer pretending that it wasn’t disgusting being bombarded with vinegar molecules left right and centre.

Vinegar makes your hair shiny, let’s try that then.

Then the bear enters my life again, because I invite him back in, because I miss his body and his mind and because I think I can balance him in my life now, there’s so much going on he won’t be the focal point anymore. He comes in, we lose ourselves together in the folds of passion and lie prostrate on my bed in the golden rays of late afternoon sun sinuously entering my little yellow bedroom, curled up together like lions.

Before he goes he remarks on my hair, like he always does, I make some comment about how the vinegar isn’t working and he smells it and agrees that it smells strange. The aroma of my hair has been an ongoing thing with the bear since we first met, it was also with the moon as well, as I use coconut oil and that tends to make its bouquet….. organic.

Actually vinegar made my hair sticky.

And that was the last nail in the coffin, officially, it had been dawning on me since one of my favourite clients looked a bit alarmed at the little tupperware box I pulled out of my bag, that perhaps it’s ok to use things other people have made.

You see the thing is, there are companies, good ethical companies, that have grown and been developed because they have a passion for what they do, because they have the time and resources to invest in developing something, they are the apothecaries.

I’m an artist / musician / cleaner, between these things I don’t really have time to brew strange things in my kitchen and then obstinately use them. Sodasun makes a gorgeously scented orange alles reiniger, frosch has a anti kalk spray which transports you to childhood: to a local newsagents where you’re tenderly picking rasberry sweets up and depositing them in a little paper bag, there’s a delicious verbena soap at bio company that I can’t stop inhaling. I think I’m ok with putting my trust in someone else to do these things for me, in fact I think that’s healthy, I make my thing, they make theirs and we exchange, because I don’t have all the time in the universe, I’m not a chef, I’m not a barista, I’m not a tinker, tailor, soldier or spy. I can customise and arrange and enjoy, but I don’t have to exercise total control over everything that comes in and out of my house from now on.

Though 3 stripes, leaping cats and big ticks are not things I need either, I can just put ribbons in my trainers myself and I don’t need 10 products that essentially do the job of soap and oil.

So I went and bought shampoo and conditioner after I met with my mentor, at that same roastery in Kreuzberg, this time we met to discuss the future of my cleaning, I needed her advice and support and she gave it to me, she has given me the wings I need and unlike Icarus, life has taught me what happens when you fly to close to the sun.

Right o, today I’m going to make some techno, have a stretch and clean my washing machine, its going to be a sublime carefree day of rest and creativity.

(Oh, by the way, I switched to Mary Lattimore in the end, spending time with an adept harpist whilst I write this has been lovely.)