#THE MIRACULOUS USUALLY ONLY HAVE A PRIMARY AND AN ACCENT

[wormzandgutz]

peacock work in progress again, im still stuck on what to do

[angst-fairygodmother]

He Could Be That Boy ~ Alfie Jones x Reader (Me and Mrs. Jones) - 1

A/N: I decided to just go with it. And then it turned into at least a 2 part thing. Maybe 3? Is it a series now? I don’t know, we’ll see what happens at this point. Stupid boy-creature.

Word Count: 1075

Rating: T - heavy alcohol consumption, jealousy, language

“Why do you call him Scarecrow?” Billy asked, planting his elbows on the bar next to you as you watched Alfie saunter off toward a group of giggling girls in the corner.

“Oh god,” you laughed awkwardly. “It’s been a running joke since primary school. Mostly it’s because he walks around like he doesn’t know what bones are. But also…” you cleared your throat, putting on an exaggerated American accent and singing, “If I only had a brain…”

Billy laughed. “That seems mean.”

“Oh come on. You know I’m right. Alfie has one of the biggest hearts I know, but...he’s sweet, and adorable, and stupid. Like a puppy.”

“I guess he’d have to be, to not see that his best friend is in love with him.”

“You are?” you joked, heart racing at how quickly Billy had seen through you, and the shrewd gaze he leveled at you.

“Y/N,” he sighed, fixing you with a firm look. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“Because it always seemed like a bad time, and then he left. And besides...Alfie’s type is tall and leggy and supermodel-y. And I’m...just me,” you shrugged. You had given up a long time ago on that venture, preferring to watch from afar and be there for him when he needed you, usually because another one of his Type had broken his heart.

“I think you’d be surprised, if you give him a chance.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be doling out drinks with your wisdom, Mr. Cliché?” 

Billy shrugged, turning back to the wall of liquor bottles, before returning a moment later to place a glass on the bar-top.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing it, and him, suspiciously.

“A drink to go with my wisdom.” He smiled winningly, and even you, with your heart set on someone else, were not immune to his charms for a moment. “Specifically, though it pains me to make, it’s a scotch and soda, with a twist. Orange not lime. Alfie may have mentioned they were your favorite.”

“And you remembered that before we even met?” you raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. 

“A good bartender knows his customers. And he mentioned it more than once.”

You marveled for a moment at the idea that you had come up in conversation between the two young men, especially so frequently that Billy had been able to commit your drink of choice to memory. Actually, it seemed miraculous that Alfie had even known, let alone shared that information. You nibbled nervously on the end of the straw, puzzling over what that meant.

~

Alfie looked up at Y/N's laugh and scowled as he watched her lightly hit Billy's arm with her palm. He scoffed. 

“First my mum and now my best mate,” he muttered petulantly. “I'm beginning to regret bringing you back from China.”

A few moments later, Y/N left for the loos, and Billy tucked her drink behind the bar for safekeeping, and Alfie seized the opportunity, a spike of surprising anger shooting through him. He shrugged off the gorgeous blonde that had been sitting on his lap and stormed over to the bar.

“What the fuck are you doing, mate?” he snapped, leaning close to Billy to keep his voice a hiss.

“Working?” the Irishman asked winningly, raising a confused eyebrow.

Alfie jabbed a finger into his friend’s face. “Well quit it. Y/N is...my Y/N and I won’t let you toy with her. Find someone else to work.” A pair of finger-quotes and a sarcastic bob of his head accompanied the spat final word.

“Alfie--” Billy started.

“No. The thing with my mom was weird, but I got over it. But I’m not going to let you do that to Y/N too.”

“I’m not trying--”

“You know what she means to me.”

“I'm just being friendly.”

“Friendly? Yeah right. Stop. Flirting. With. Y/N.”

“Alfie…” Billy cast a glance over Alfie's shoulder where you stood, wide-eyed before quickly narrowing your expression to a glare. 

“Really?” You exclaimed, catching your friend's attention, tone somewhere between furious and hurt. 

All your lives he had hated it every time you sounded like that, and hated himself for being the one to cause it now.

“Y/N! How much of that did you hear?” He grimaced, voice cracking with nerves. 

“You are such a selfish ass, Alfred Jones,” you could feel hot tears gathering in your eyes but for a second, you didn't care. You wanted Alfie to see. “You could never want me, but god forbid anyone else does either?”

“Y/N, that’s not…”

Turning to Billy, back to Alfie, you dug around for your wallet, until he held up a hand. 

“We’re good, Y/N,” he said, frowning sympathetically. 

“Thanks, I’ll settle up with you later, I swear. It was really nice chatting with you Billy. Alfie, go to hell.” 

With that you spun on a heel and stormed out of the bar, trying to keep your head high. Unfortunately you didn’t make it far past the closing door before the facade cracked and you sank to the curb with a sob. You curled in on yourself, burying your face into your knees, years of frustration and heartbreak spilling out until you could barely breathe.

“Y/N?” Alfie’s voice was hesitant, and quiet in a way you couldn’t remember ever hearing him before. “Hey.”

“What do you want, Alfie?” you mumbled, sniffling and swiping at your eyes.

He sat down next to you, nudging your shoulder, as he always did, pulling a face to try and make you laugh. Try as you might, you couldn’t keep the corners of your mouth from twitching up at the corners. After a moment, he looked away, tugging nervously at his lower lip pinched between thumb and forefinger.

“Will you come back inside and let me buy you a drink, make things right?”

You sighed, whatever anger you felt melting away instantly. “There’s nothing to make right, Alf,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“You sure?”

“Of course. I’ll always love you, Alfie, you know that.”

He grinned. “Always?”

“Unless you become a serial killer or something,” you shook your head. “But I won’t say no to another drink anyway. As long as you’re not going to accuse Billy of flirting again...”

He grinned, tugging you to your feet and wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he led you back inside. “Of course not.”

[quanticlub]

Long Lore Rant

... Needs to be reformatted into something pretty rip

Background:

Aight so as per the great and infallible wikipedia, Taoist cosmology states that everything started with wújí and then created yǒu jí. The former means limitless and comes from the words "nothingness" and "reaching the end" ... so nothingness at the end aka no boundaries

the latter was the limited. it's only briefly mentioned as its conception brought on a polarity to the universe - yin and yang

taiji itself is the boundary embodied by you-ji with respect to the infinite wuji and represents the Absolute

The split into yin and yang has a the connotations listed above in the pic ((except... for tikki and plagg the feminine vs masculine seem to be switched cuz from the description, tikki is more closely associated with yang)). Yang is represented by one long dash –– while yin is two small broken ones - - . Now, in the middle column where there are category names for what yin and yang represent the wu xing category (elements, second from the bottom) has earth listed as neither. It also doesn't include air, which the wu xing doesnt include in general but is included by almost every other major culture when classifying the elements.

Kwami Origins: Null

In the beginning there was a great big nothingness and then came a tiny blip of umm... everythingness? making the Absolute. This gave the nothingness and everythingness a consciousness. (wow lots of -ness words here). The nothingness part of the absolute became Null. The everythingness got no name cuz it quickly split off into the rest of creation.

Null's concept art is a three-eyed little creature with two kwami tendrils.  I propose Null as the glowing white kwami they originally made but with all black eyes and The Other One as the all black kwami but with glowing white eyes. The prior emptiness/nothingness was energy while the delineation/everythingnes was matter(?). when they created the Absolute, parts of themselves mixed i na typical yin-yang fashion, thus the eyes being like those of the others. This gave them power over the nature of the other sorta???? hard to explain

 For Null, he had power over mass, time, and space - matter is anything that has mass and takes up space at a given moment. The Other One (imma call them Higgs bc of the Higgs boson particle but it wouldnt be the real name) had power over tendencies of energy*. So. energy can be used up to build something (creative force - in human metabolism it's an anabolic reaction), released to tear something apart (destructive force - in human metabolism it's a catabolic reaction). bBt it can also be stored/dissipate with no specific purpose, instead being available for all sorts of possible things later (chaotic force?)

idea is that Higgs, upon consciousness, sacrificed themselves to give rise to existence. The Big Bang. they justs sorta fucked off to become a bunch of cool rocks/stardust floating in space and initiated the course of time (which could theoretically be split into different timelines? idk time travel is weird and this is superfluous to my current ramble)

the three aspects of Null that Higgs had gained powers from became concepts that would gain sentience of their own. The yin and yang markings are, technically, three lines. not two. cuz yin is split ( –– vs - - ).

* = this bit's a little less science-y except for keeping with the triad thing bc neutron, electron, and proton

Three, Not Two: Tikki, Plagg, & ...Hexx?

I imagine Null took up the developing concepts and nurtured them sorta. like they were incubating under Null's protection. Tikki emerged out of Null's sphere first; she had the most power from Higgs though all three were pretty closely matched. she was the creative force. 

Plagg came out of Null's sphere last. He was the destructive force. Sorta. It was actually coser to... decay?  Plagg is really more of a kwami of decay than destruction. He doesnt just obliterate things, he accelerates their decomposition. when his powers act on metal, for instance, it rusts. thats not destruction it's just the wear-and-tear expected to happen over time. Destruction as a concept opposite to that of Creation and Order involves more entropy and plagg really isnt as chaotic as would be expected. While he represents destruction in the sense that the thing is ceasing to function as a unit, the chaos would fall more under hexx.

The third force, the one that embodied possibility, was too erratic. they got out of Null's care first but remained in the sphere for a while longer. they didn't get out til after Tikki. I'm thinking maybe  emerged from Null's domain just a few seconds before Plagg (time is still wonky at this point). while Tikki is yang ( –– ), Plagg and #3, henceforth referred to as Hexx, are both yin ( - - ). Plagg is slightly weaker cuz he was "overcooked" and Hexx was "undercooked". Tikki came out just right like a yummy batch of cookies ;)

While Plagg is the biggest cuz he stayed with Null for so long, Hexx is the smallest. Even more so than Tikki but only by a little. I was thinking of him looking like a mix of Tikki and Plagg. More cat-like but with red accents and maybe blue eyes instead of green.

That’s the gist of it with a quick reminder note that time still affects kwamis differently like they mentioned in Sandboy or whatever. so they might be around ten billion years old be the time earth shows up but theyve been very immature. like little kids. and unlike kids that go to school to learn how things work, they were given immense amounts of power and 0 instruction so they have to figure out what they can do, what their identity is, and what purpose they want to have in existence

Tikki has a very do-good attitude and wants to help (even if shes proven sometimes she doesnt give the best advice) and be a Good Kwami. But Plagg isn't a bad kwami. The opposite of love isn't hate after all; it's apathy. Plagg just doesnt really care and will follow Tikki around bc he enjoys her company and his primary concern is himself. Oblivio was a good example of this cuz he's like "no fuck you whats in it for me" but still gets affected by tikki's words and comes back to do as she says eventually.

Hexx would be the "bad apple" though kwamis dont really have moralities cuz those were human constructs and are incredibly subjective. He wouldnt be hatred in the analogy with love, but rather fire-y emotions that are still more negative. quick anger and stuff. usually happy go-lucky. temperamental goes with the nature of being THE force of chaos. while he doesnt wanna help necessarily, he still wants to DO. he's the one that instigates mischief and wants to fuck around for the fun of it.

Making the Miraculous

So from the dinosaur ordeal we know the kwamis DID have effects on earth, but they couldnt consistently intervene - at least not in a controlled fashion. and they couldnt really communicate with humans cuz different field of existence. but their presence became known even if the humans didnt know what they were exactly

the set from the miracle box was made my a mage in china for the purpose of conquests. Hexx’s mischief and meddling probably gave the humans access to the magic/knowledge/whatever they’d need for making the Miraculous. The pitch to get these baby gods to agree was that tikki would have greater control of her powers and could communicate and help! tikki was down. It seemed like a Good Thing and she wanted to do good. Plagg was meh but might as well cuz tikki insisted. hexx wasn't convinced. they werent warned theyd be confined to the miraculous and essentially trapped. plaggs agreement was more out of ignorance of this fact. he figured he could make tikki happy but still fuck off to do what he wanted. never imagined that he'd be subject to another's will. 

tikki was happy regardless bc very young (developmentally) and naive and honestly believing that the human knew best and it's what was best for both the kwamis and humanity. she had so much power her jewel had to be split into two - thus, earrings. all other kwamis inhabit a singular miraculous.

when hexx was being trapped it was against his will, unlike plagg and the others. he fought it. he still got trapped but the miraculous wasnt like the others. the nature was different... it was corrupted. Cue: cursed miraculous(es) ((still not sure of the plural)). If he has to suffer then by Null so do the humans who did this. Thus the name Hexx. Opened the option for kwamis to try to fight it or go for it. Werewolves perhaps stem from a group of cursed canid kwamis? The Miracle Box is basically the kwamis who were aight with the idea but other cursed kwamis exist. 

The nature of a miraculous depends on the "recipe" used to make the jewels and the kwami's receptiveness to being basically enslaved. The Miracle Box miraculous were all made by the same mage mentioned earlier so they had the same recipe so to speak. All the kwamis in the miracle box fall under yin or yang. Including the elements. So the Zodiac and Wu Xing kwamis are all in either tikki or plagg's domains. Except for one. I propose trixx as the exception, even if they dont fit the traits of earth. i was thinking for the other supporting kwami to hexx there could be one that also refused to join the mage... the kwami representing air (wu xing is basically the only philosophy without air as an element in some shape or form). Possible name: Jinxx, a crow. The fox/crow/cat are all typical tricksters in myths. 

The way the kwamis��� powers can be manipulated varies and the cursed kwamis offer the least control to their wielders - and the greatest side effects. I imagine jinxx just fucks off to follow hexx's miraculous, wherever it may be. Hexx is closer to the original curse on pv chat noir... the curse is possibly activated and summoned by the use of tikki or plagg's powers outside their miraculous? And dormant after death of wielder or kiss from LB or something. So that would mean Plagg activated him in style queen and then helping him get a better location/target with the smaller cataclysm in i think catalyst (when he's like "ive been practicing!).

Together, plagg and tikki have that OP wish granting ability but they cant truly summon Null to the this dimension without Hexx, who adamantly refuses. it's not like Hexx's miraculous can be stolen cuz it's cursed onto the subject. As a summary of combined powers... Tikki + Plagg = wish granting? ... Hexx + Tikki = good luck ... Hexx + Plagg = bad luck ... cuz Hexx is about possibility and consequences. So creation-related effects tend to manifest as what humans deem to be good while destruction-related ones are seen as bad.

Hexx Making an Appearance

For the current Mari/Adri plot I thought of Hexx cursing Felix or sth and bringing him onto the hero scene. Comes with the benefit of jealous CN. Maybe a scene where cat-ish Felix tells Chat Noir that he’s not interested in LB, only Mari and they have some sorta agreement to respect that (would work best in the half brother’s thing if Adri found out). All hell would break loose if/when LBs identity came out.

 Also I like the idea of Hexx having been locked in Pandora's jar with other angry ~cursed~ miraculous and the others immediately fucked off and scattered their miraculous but Hexx remained. possibility and consequence does not mean bad things. it's the uncertainty of the future that allows for hope, which is what pandora found. the greek tales also have varying connotations on whether finding hope was a blessing or a curse depending on how you looked at it

[corpuscaiiosum]

Outbreak Delayed Chapter 1 A Telltale’s TWD fanfic

Lee Everett couldn’t still couldn’t quite believe the turn his life had taken.  He’d spent the last seven years of his life locked up in the Meriweather County Correctional Facility, and now, now he wasn’t.  Nearly a decade of appeals, a re-trial, and three different legal teams his sentence of second-degree murder had been commutate to involuntary manslaughter, his time had already been served.  Every penny he’d had was gone, some to his ex-wife, the rest to his legal defense, but he was a free man.

Prospects had been slim from the beginning, not many schools would hire the “Senator Slaughterer” as some publications had called him at the time of his first trail, and not wanting to live with his brother for any longer than he had to he began searching for jobs outside of his home state.  Truth be told with his marriage over, and both of his parents gone there was little to tie him to Georgia anymore, and all the reasons in the world to leave.  Eventually something came through.

Lee was sweeping the floor of the pharmacy his brother now ran when his phone began to ring.  He groaned at the possibility of another solicitor trying to sell him something he didn’t need, or help with student debt he no longer had, but still he answered with a resigned  

“Hello?”  There was no long pause however, nor did the voice on the other end of the line seem pre-recorded.

“Yes I’m looking for Mr. Everett, Lee Everett”  

“That’s me” Lee responded, and motioned to his brother he would be taking his call in the office.  “Can I ask what this is regarding?”  Hope rising in his chest.

“I very much hope so Mr. Everett.  My name is Richard Miller, you applied for a post with us through the “Scared Straight” program and I think you would be a marvelous fit for us.  We just lost one of our teachers, and would like to offer you the position.”  Lee listened intently as Miller listed out the details of the position, and while the salary and benefits weren’t as good as those he had enjoyed as a University Professor, it was a good deal better than his brother could offer.  That is how Lee Everett came to pack the few worldly possessions he owned into his parent’s old station-wagon, and began the long drive north to West Virginia.

For the most part the trip went well, with a few stops at historic civil war battle sites.  Less than a week later he was pulling up to the wide sealed up gate of the School tucked away in some backwoods, fairly far from any sizeable town.  He supposed that was intentional, less to distract the students.  

“Ericson’s Boarding school for Troubled Youths” He said aloud, reading plaque by the little door.  Through the metal bars he could see kids playing in the little courtyard between the gate and admin building.  From where he was sitting, they didn’t look troubled, most were laughing with one another, playing games or flipping through books.  Then like a chill wind was rolling in their smiles faltered, suddenly on edge.  Then he saw why.  A heavy-set man in his early 60’s was making his way down the small stone pathway, a powerful looking pitbull strolling comfortably at his side.  As he got closer Lee understood exactly what was going on.  That saccharinely cheerful smile, that smug shine behind the eyes, it was the same mask the warden wore when he made the rounds with his guards, aloof, above everyone around him and infinitely confident of his own importance.  

Lee felt as if his heart would drop into his stomach, immediately knowing this is the man he’d agreed to come work for, he pushed that feeling down however, it was better than prison.  He studied the high walls and arrogant headmaster again.  Better than prison, if not entirely different he decided.

Mr Everett. . .” The heavyset man began, plastered on smile still splitting his face as he motioned for a guard –his uniform said security, but Lee recognized a guard when he saw one- To open the gate. “. . .It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”  Lee shook his hand when he extended it, trying his best to match the man’s enthusiasm.

“Thank you sir, I’m just happy to have the opportunity.”  The headmaster nodded benevolently and turned motioning for Lee to follow him.  “This is Rosie, she’s a real sweetheart. . .most of the time.”  A nasty little chuckle escaped his lips before whistling to her “Give Mr Wallace here your keys he’ll park your car in the faculty lot.”  He said pointing to the security officer, who didn’t bother with the smile the way Miller did, rather just nodded begrudgingly as he handed the keys over.  

Lee’s smile became more genuine as he passed by the kids who despite their obvious fear of man leading the way peaked out the corners of their eyes at him.  Surreptitiously he waved at them, winking at a particularly shy looking boy with heavy burn scars on one side of his face who in turn smiled weakly back at him.  

“I’ll have you sign some paperwork then one of our students will show you around the grounds.”  The headmaster moved like a king surveying his kingdom, as he pointed out features of the school grounds.  “Over there is are the student dorms, on the other side we have the main classrooms, and the greenhouse around back.  Now since there’s only ever between 45 and 50 students here at Ericson each classroom is usually only comprised of roughly 10 or so students of similar age.  Seeing as you’re more used to college age students you’ll be overseeing our oldest group.  It’s quite the coop for us really, a man with a university professor’s qualifications, and first-hand experience going through the criminal justice system.  I really do think you’ll be a great benefit.”  Lee couldn’t help but find himself agreeing even as the headmaster blustered on, it was nothing short of miraculous that he wouldn’t be spendign the rest of his life behind bars, and if he could help some of these kids keep from making mistakes like his than the pay cut and move would be well worth it.

“So, have you found a place to live yet?” The headmaster asked as they ascended the stairs to his office, Rosie taking her place in a bed beside his desk.  Lee shook his head as he took a seat he was offered.  “There’s a nice little motel in town you could stay at until you get settled properly.”  The portly man slid some papers across the desk.  “Alright so there’s your documents, your legal waiver as you know some of the students can be a bit. . .much.” He said seriously.  “Releases us and the parents from liability if you sustain any injuries in the course of your duties.”  He went through signing after giving each paper a quick skim through.  “Wonderful.”  The larger man depressed a button on the intercom on his desk, his voice projected from speakers throughout the school.  “Ms. Montrose, please report to the headmaster’s office immediately.”  Over the next few minutes Lee asked questions about his responsibilities, the school in general and the local area, until there was a firm knock at the still open door.

Lee turned to find a girl of maybe sixteen, who would come maybe up to his chest if they stood face to face.  She had dark curly hair that went past her neck, pulled into a loose braid that was tugged through the back of a purple baseball cap, a large capital D sewn onto the front.  She had intense hazel eyes that seemed to take in, measure and asses everything in the room at a glance.  She wore a torn paor of jeans, actually torn, well-worn jeans, not purposefully distressed designer things, and a black shirt beneath a burgundy leather jacket.

“Ah, Ms. Montrose so nice of you join us.  This is our new teacher Mr. Everett, he’s from Georgia just like you.”  The strange girl raised an eyebrow at that and asked.

“What part?”

“Macon.” Lee responded still unsure what to make of her.  Then she smiled, and he couldn’t help but return the expression, uncertainty vanishing; he liked this girl.

“You?”  He asked and she crossed her arms, smile tugging itself into a smirk.  “Atlanta.”  Something in her accent, or maybe the way she carried herself told him that wasn’t exactly true, so he crossed his own and waited, not breaking eye contact.  She laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Fine I’m from just outside Atlanta, little suburb you’ve never heard of.” He laughed as well.  

“Ms. Montrose here will show you around, she’s one of our most imporved students, we don’t expect to see her back here next year.”  The headmaster adopted an expression Lee expected he thought would look fatherly, but came across as self-satisfied, as if he’d been the primary factor in her rehabilitation.  Lee stood, waved to the headmaster who was already filing away his paperwork, and stepped out the door, following after the girl.  

“So, do they not believe in first names around here?”  The girl shook her head.

“No Mr. Miller just likes to keep things “very formal.” She said doing a fair impression of the blustery man.  “I’m Clementine.” She stopped and turned to him extending her hand.

“Now who’s being “Very Formal.” Lee teased with his own impression.  They both laughed as they shook hands.  “Lee.” He said finally.

“Lee, I like it.” Clementine said matter-of-factly, then motioned for him to follow.  “So down there is the library.”  She said leading him down one of the halls leading out of the large foyer, the sound of a Piano drifting out from it.  “That’s Louis, he gets special permission to use the piano after classes if he manages to behave himself. . .it is very unusual to find him playing.  They entered the high ceiling room, it’s walls lined with books.  “Sometimes we have dances, or parent’s night in here.”  A lanky looking boy with dreads sat at the piano, fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys, on one of the couches a blonde boy flipped lazily through the pages of an ancient looking book.  The moment the boy at the piano saw the two of them walk in the song changed and a mischievous grin slipped onto his face.

“Oh my Darlin, Oh my Darlin, Oh my Darlin clementine. . .” Clementine rolled her eyes once again.

“You gotta do that everytime I walk in here?” The grin turned to a look of mock sorrow.

“Dreadful sorry, Clementine.”  He laughed, swung his legs around on the piano stool, and stood with a little hop.  “Every single time.”  His eyes swung to meet Lee’s for a moment then back to Clementine.  “New boyfriend?” Clementine sighed but Lee could tell the frustration was feigned, the two of them playing the parts they’d grown comfortable playing with each other.  

“This is our new Teacher, Lee Everett.  Lee, this is Louis, our resident class clown and music lover.  Over there is Marlon.” She motioned towards the boy on the couch, who raised his hand in a lazy wave, not looking up from his book.  

“He’s my muscle.” That raised hand lifted it’s middle finger, the owner apparently not caring that the new comer had been introduced as a teacher.

“Nice to meet you both, guess you’re going to be in my class, the headmaster said I’d be teaching the older students.”  Louis nodded.

“Looks like it, it’s about time they found someone to replace Mr. Andrews, he was really getting up there, had to be almost 90.”  

“93” Marlon corrected, still not looking up from his book.  “I remember stealing a piece of cake from his 83rd birthday party my first year.”  Lee swung his head sharply to look at the still reclined young man.  

“You’ve been coming here for ten years?  Is that normal?” He asked looking between Clementine and Louis, who shook his head.   “Nah not really, only a couple of us have been here that long, I got here the year after Marlon.  Other than us it’s just Violet, Ruby, the twins, and Mitch, we’re the staples that hold this place together.”  Louis said making an expansive gesture at the room around them.

“What he means is we’re the ones whose parents already gave up on them.”  The boy on the couch finally set the book down and stood.  “Nice to meet you teach, see ya in class.” Tucking hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket Marlon walked past them and made his way down the hall to the entrance.  

“Well isn’t a ball of fucking sunshine.” Lee said as Marlon walked out, then realized what he’d said, and was about to tell the others to ignore that when they both burst out laughing.  

“Oh we’re gonna get along just fine Lee.” Louis said patting his shoulder as the laughter died down.

“Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the school.” Clementine said leading him back the way they came, Louis taking his place at the piano once again.  For the next hour or so Clementine lead him through the school, through the hallways with the classrooms, into the dining hall, the nurses office, and then finally to the greenhouse.  When they entered a stout redheaded girl was tending to some of the plants while a thin woman with dark hair around his own age, in a white lab coat was setting tools away in one of the storage closets.  

“What do you want?” The redhead snapped upon seeing Clementine enter, then shrank back a little when Lee followed her in.  

“Ruby, this is Lee Everett he’s taking over for Mr. Andrews, I’m showing him around.  Lee this is Ms. Martin and Ruby, miss martin is our nurse, and sort of a botany teacher as well.”  Ruby relaxed, grinned and nodded emphatically.  

“She knows everything about plants, and herbs and stuff, and she’ll teach anyone who asks.”  Ms. Martin blushed at the compliments but puffed her chest out a little as she walked over to shake Lee’s hand.  

“Nice to meet you.” They both said in unison as they shook hands, then laughed, Lee scratching at the back of his head.  

“Regina Martin.” She said finally, offering her first name as they broke their grasp.  “I know a little about plants, and I don’t mind sharing what I know with some of the kids if they’re interested, like Ruby here, she’s my best student.”  Ruby beamed and Miss Martin flashed her a proud smile.  “If there’s anything you need be sure to let me know, I’m either in here or my office.”  Lee nodded and wiped a bit of sweat from his brow.  

“So all the teachers live in town?” Lee asked as Clementine moved to help a slightly disgruntled looking Ruby lock up the fertilizer and the rest of the gardening supplies as they spoke.

“Near enough, the headmaster has his own room in the admin building, and Wallace has cot in the security office, damn near lives on the grounds.”  Lee nodded

“Must really care about the kids.” Miss Martin giggled a little behind one hand.  

“You’d think that would you? More like he’s worried what they’d do to school without his watchful eye.”  Clementine and Ruby scoffed at that as they came back over.  Lee looked out one of the high windows of the greenhouse roof at the setting sun.  

“I think I should get going, not sure I can find my way back to town in the dark.”  All three of them adopted an incredulous look.

“You don’t have GPS?” Clementine asked and Lee felt his face heat, he’d yet to acclimate to the advances in technology.  

“Uh no, money’s been a little tight lately.” Ruby punched Clementine’s arm.

“See now you went and made him feel bad, always asking the wrong questions.”  Miss Martin placed a hand on each of the girls’ shoulders.

“Girls it’s nearly lights out, how about you get yourselves to bed.”  They each nodded, and said their goodnights to the two teachers.  Lee watched them go.

“It’s funny, the more of these kids I meet, the less “Troubled” they seem.”  Regina moved to stand beside him, watching the two girls walking off.  

“You’ll see their rougher sides if you stay long enough, but it’s nice to have someone who can still see the softer side.”  He felt her hand on his shoulder, and a shiver ran down his spine, and he smiled.  

“Hopefully I can help them out a bit.”  They stepped from the greenhouse, the night feeling more chill than it had before.  “I really do need to get going, it really was nice meeting you Regina.” He turned to her and shook her hand again.  She returned his smile and waved as he took his leave of her.  

After retrieving his keys from the security officer he was back in his car and heading down the long road towards town.  All through the twenty-minute drive he went over what he would say to his class the next day, the headmaster had asked him to talk about his time in prison and afterall that was one of the reasons he had taken the job, but how do you tell kids about something like that.  After a while though his mind turned to more pleasantly mundane things, a lesson plan, interesting topics for lectures, what books to assign, they were nice thoughts from a life he thought was over.  By the time he was pulling into the parking lot of the motel the headmaster had recommended Lee Everett was feeling optimistic for the first time in a long time.

[pamphletstoinspire]

Ed. Note: Today, September 23, 2018 marks the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Passing of St. Padre Pio into Eternal Life. Happy Feast Day everybody!

A Padre Pio Inspirational Story

A Hymn to Padre Pio

In June of 1998 Alex Quinn’s fifteen-year-old son Philip, was sent home from school with a very bad headache. Within hours after coming home, Philip became paralyzed. Alex and his wife Deirdre rushed Philip to the Royal Victoria Hospital in Belfast. They were both terrified that their son was dying. The initial tests that were taken indicated that Philip had a brain tumor. But four days later, after a multitude of tests, Philip was diagnosed with the deadly disease called encephalitis. The virus had attacked the part of Philip’s brain that controlled movement, speech and memory.

Alex and his wife Deirdre were devastated. They tried to hide their fear from their son and made every effort to appear upbeat and positive when they visited him in the hospital. Day after day he lay motionless and speechless in his hospital bed, showing no sign of improvement. It was heartbreaking for Alex and Deirdre to witness. Philip still had a slight bit of movement left in his hands. He communicated with his parents by placing his thumb up to say “yes” and placing his thumb down to say “no.”

Alex learned that there was a man in Belfast named Brendan Rogers who possessed a relic of Padre Pio, a bandage that had covered his wounded side. The relic had been given to Brendan by Father Alessio Parente, Padre Pio’s personal secretary. Alex got in touch with Brendan and he kindly agreed to bring the relic to Philip. In the Royal Victoria Hospital, Philip was blessed with the relic of Padre Pio and all who were present prayed for his healing.

Weeks went by but sadly there was no improvement in Philip’s condition. Finally, in September, there was a change. When Alex arrived at the hospital to visit his son, Deirdre was in tears. But they were not the usual tears of sadness, they were tears of joy. With great emotion, she told Alex that Philip had spoken a word to her that day. He had said, “mom.” Alex cried too, not only because his heart was filled with renewed hope, but also because it happened to be September 23, Padre Pio’s feast day. From that day forward, Philip slowly began to improve. He would eventually make a complete recovery.

September 23 marked a turning point in Alex’s life as well. He had prayed to Padre Pio for his son’s healing and Padre Pio had sent him an unmistakable sign that he had heard his prayers. Alex knew that his life would never be the same. He now felt certain that he had a special calling, a special mission to somehow express his gratitude to Padre Pio. He did not know how he would do so but he was determined to find a way.

In 2002, Alex’s wife Deirdre was diagnosed with cancer. The family prayed to Padre Pio for another miracle but on August 15, 2003, on the feast of the Assumption, Deirdre passed away. She was surrounded by her loving family. Alex prayed that he would be able to accept the passing of his dear wife.

The night before Deirdre’s funeral, Alex had a vision of his wife. She had a beautiful smile on her face and she was being carried to Heaven by an angel. Alex was at peace, knowing that his wife was now free of pain and was happy in Heaven. Alex clung to his faith in God and found the strength to go on.

Alex began to regularly attend a Padre Pio prayer group that was held in Belfast. One evening at the prayer group, Father O’Rawe, the spiritual director of the group, said that he would like one of the members of the group to compose a hymn to Padre Pio. As Father O’Rawe said the words, he looked directly at Alex. For many reasons, Alex seemed to be the perfect choice.

In addition to his job as a teacher at a primary school in West Belfast, Alex was also a professional musician and a song writer. He wrote the famous song Belfast which had become a big hit throughout the United Kingdom. Alex belonged to a musical group called Barnbrack. The group had been on tour through Ireland, Scotland, England, and Canada and had even sung for the president of Ireland. People everywhere loved listening to the Irish folk ballads that Barnbrack sang.

Alex thought that Father O’Rawe had a wonderful idea regarding the hymn to Padre Pio. He decided to do his best to write a hymn in Padre Pio’s honor. He felt that he owed Padre Pio a great debt. Alex was certain that his son’s miraculous recovery was due to Padre Pio’s intercession.

After Alex finished writing the song to Padre Pio, he went to a recording studio to have it professionally mastered. When the song was released, it became very popular in Ireland where devotion to Padre Pio has always been strong. The CD also featured thirteen other hymns including traditional favorites such as Our God Reigns and Be Not Afraid. Soon England and other countries as well were listening to the hymn to Padre Pio and buying the CD.

Alex decided to give all of the royalties from the song Hymn to Padre Pio to the monastery of Our Lady of Grace in San Giovanni Rotondo where Padre Pio had lived for more than fifty years. Alex knew that the Capuchins in residence there depended on the generosity of others to carry on their apostolate. Alex planned to go in person to deliver the check.

When Alex’s royalties for his song to Padre Pio reached more than 10,000 Euros, he made preparations for his trip to San Giovanni Rotondo. He felt very insecure about traveling alone. In the past, he had always had his wife at his side whenever he went on a trip. One of Alex’s friends was an Italian man. Alex asked him to write a note in Italian explaining that he was traveling to San Giovanni Rotondo. That way, if he got lost or turned around or had any difficulties on the trip, at least he would be able to have the note in hand which explained his destination. Alex’s friend was happy to provide him with the note.

When Alex arrived at the airport in Rome, he looked for a taxi to take him to the bus station. It proved to be more difficult than he had imagined. Evidently, Alex’s Irish accent made it almost impossible for the taxi driver to understand him. The taxi driver summoned five other taxi drivers in order to see if they could decipher what Alex was saying. Finally, one seemed to understand and motioned him to get in his taxi.

Once at the bus station, Alex had the same difficulty when trying to communicate with the ticket-taker. When he asked for a round trip ticket to San Giovanni Rotondo, the ticket-taker could not understand his “Irish brogue.” Alex repeated his request a number of times but to no avail. He finally had to settle for a one way ticket.

When the bus driver made a stop at a convenience store, everyone got off the bus to get something to eat. After Alex had a bite to eat, he stood close to the bus, waiting for the driver to return. By now it had grown dark. He was very tired but he had to stay alert. He estimated that he would get to San Giovanni about midnight. He had made no hotel reservations and he had no idea where he would be staying for the night.

As Alex was pondering his immediate situation and trying not to give in to a nagging feeling of anxiety, a stranger approached him. He spoke to Alex in Italian but unfortunately Alex did not understand a single word of what he said. Alex then spoke to the man in English but the man was not able to understand him. Finally, because of the communication problem, the man simply stared at Alex. He was so friendly and engaging that it seemed a shame to Alex that they could not talk to each other. Alex then remembered the note in his wallet. He handed it to the man who read it with interest.

Soon everyone got back on the bus. Alex noticed that the kind man who had just spoken to him also boarded the bus. During the journey, Alex observed that the man was constantly on his cell phone, making one call after another. The bus driver made many stops along the way, letting people out at one small town after another. Every time the bus pulled to the side of the road to let people off, Alex would ask the bus driver if they were in San Giovanni Rotondo. He couldn’t relax because he was afraid of missing his stop.

When the bus arrived in the town of Foggia, the kind man communicated to Alex by way of hand signals that he was to get off the bus with him. Alex was confused. He was not traveling to Foggia but to San Giovanni Rotondo. But for some reason, Alex trusted the man completely. He did as instructed. They were the only two passengers who got off at the Foggia stop.

In Foggia, Alex and his new found friend, boarded another bus. Alex learned that it was the bus that went to San Giovanni Rotondo. Alex couldn’t believe it. He had no idea that he needed to transfer to a second bus in order to reach his destination. If he had not been assisted by the man, who knows where he might have ended up that night.

When the bus arrived in San Giovanni Rotondo, the man motioned to Alex to follow him. They walked for about twenty minutes until they arrived at the man’s house. The man then drove Alex to a beautiful hotel. To Alex’s great surprise, it was right next to the monastery of Our Lady of Grace. Alex learned that the man had been using his cell phone on the bus, making one call after another, in order to make a hotel reservation for him.

The man went into the hotel and spoke to the manager. Alex was then given one of the finest hotel rooms available. After the man bid him farewell, Alex never saw him again. Unfortunately, he never even got his name. He had been a true “guardian angel” to Alex.

At the monastery of Our Lady of Grace, Alex received a warm welcome from the Capuchin community. They were very grateful to accept his generous donation. They were truly happy about the success of his song to Padre Pio. They invited him to eat with them in the monastery refectory, the same refectory where Padre Pio had taken all of his meals.

The Capuchins also took Alex to the private chapel where Padre Pio used to say his Mass during the 1930’s when he was segregated from the public. Alex prayed in thanksgiving for the healing of his son. He also prayed for his wife Deirdre. He knew that she was with God now. He had the great consolation of seeing that she was at peace and that she was happy.

There would be many more occasions in Alex’s life to give thanks to God for blessings received. He was now able to see that much good had come out of the painful experiences of the past. He would continue to see the hand of God working in miraculous ways in his life. __________

The Testimony of Bill Gleason

Bill Gleason was getting ready to have shoulder surgery in the winter of 2008. The night before the surgery, Bill decided to go to the rectory at Our Lady of the Rosary parish and ask one of the priests for a blessing. Father Louis Solcia answered the rectory door that evening. He blessed Bill with the holy oil of St. Pio and gave him a prayer card. It had St. Pio’s picture on one side and the novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus on the other. Bill did not know anything about St. Pio but he was happy to accept the holy card. Father Louis told him to put it in the pocket of his hospital gown and to keep it there during the surgery.

Bill was not too concerned about the surgery. It was going to be a routine operation, a rotator cuff repair. Nevertheless, he was going to have to go under general anesthetic and he was glad that Father Solcia had prayed for him. Bill had been praying quite a lot in recent months. Due to budget cuts in the state of California, he had been laid off from his supervisory position at the County Office of Education. Ever since the lay off, he had prayed to God for guidance. “Lord, show me what you want me to do with my life and lead me in the path you have marked out for me,” he frequently prayed.

Bill had the shoulder surgery and was to be discharged from the hospital that very afternoon. However, during the surgery, Bill’s breathing became erratic. He had to stay overnight in the hospital and receive breathing treatments throughout the night. Late that evening, his wife Mary Ann called his nurse to see how he was doing. She told the nurse that Bill had a Padre Pio prayer card in the pocket of his hospital gown and she wanted to make sure that he still had it with him. The nurse explained to Mary Ann that Bill had put on a new gown and his other gown had already been sent to the hospital laundry room. The nurse was sorry, but it was too late to recover it.

The next morning, Bill was very surprised to see his Padre Pio prayer card in his room. Bill’s nurse told him that she could sense Mary Ann’s disappointment upon learning that the prayer card was gone. The nurse realized that it must have been important. About two o’clock in the morning, she felt a strong urge to go in search of Bill’s holy card. She went to the hospital laundry room and looked through the bins of dirty clothes until she found it.

After Bill was released from the hospital, he told Mary Ann that he thought they should start attending the Padre Pio prayer group at Our Lady of the Rosary parish. Neither of them had ever attended it before. He also wanted to make a commitment to pray the novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus every day. Father Solcia had told him that it was the prayer that Padre Pio had said daily throughout his life. Bill had thought a lot about the fact that his nurse at the hospital had taken it upon herself to search for his Padre Pio prayer card. No one had asked her to do so. Bill was amazed, not only that she went in search of it, but also that she had found it. He felt for certain that the odds were against recovering it. He believed that it was a sign that he should start attending the Padre Pio devotions.

Toward the end of the year, Bill began to feel ill. He had chronic pain which seemed to intensify with each passing day. Finally, he was hospitalized. Tests revealed that he had Crohn’s Disease. His condition continued to deteriorate. Further tests were taken which indicated that Bill did not have Crohn’s disease. His illness remained undiagnosed.

During his hospital stay, Bill contracted pneumonia as well as the potentially deadly bacterial staph infection called MRSA. His condition became critical. He drifted in and out of consciousness. His breathing became erratic, his heartbeat became irregular, and his blood pressure could not be stabilized. As a last resort, his doctor put him into a medically induced coma.

Finally, after Bill had been in a coma for many days, the doctor told Mary Ann that he could offer no hope for her husband. He had done everything that he could for Bill. Bill was dying. The doctor told Mary Ann to take care of any arrangements that she needed to. Mary Ann called Father Solcia and told him the news. He immediately came down to the hospital and gave Bill the Last Rites and the blessing for the dying.

To his family’s great relief, Bill did not pass away. He came back to consciousness after being in a coma for eighteen days. He told Mary Ann that while he was in a comatose state, he had a remarkable experience. He found himself in a place of pitch darkness. There he saw the faces of frightful demons. It was truly a place of pain and suffering. An angel came to Bill and tried to lead him out of the dark ravine. “We have to climb the mountain, Bill. We have to go toward the light,” his good angel would say. No matter how hard Bill tried, he was always pulled back down toward the darkness. More than anything in the world, Bill wanted to get to the place of light.

At one point, Bill saw a saintly man dressed in robes of pure white. Looking closer, he realized that it was St. Benedict. “Save me!” Bill entreated St. Benedict. St. Benedict pointed toward his right, indicating the way that Bill was to go. Bill went in that direction and soon saw a figure close to him. It was Padre Pio. “Stop right there, Bill,” Padre Pio said, in a voice full of authority. “You must go back. Your work is not finished.” “But what work?” Bill asked. Padre Pio made no reply.

Bill knew that the light was up ahead, but he only had a faint glimpse of it. He was never able to reach it. Instead, when he finally opened his eyes, he saw his earthly angel, Mary Ann, at his hospital bedside. How happy his family was to know that Bill had returned to the land of the living!

All together, Bill spent a total of seventy-eight days in the hospital. He weighed 223 lbs. when he was admitted and he weighed 139 lbs. on the day he was sent home. Bill’s recovery took many months. His family took expert care of him. They were just glad that he was alive.

Bill’s experience in the hospital gave him a whole new perspective on life. Before his illness, he had often attended Mass simply to fulfill his Sunday obligation. Not anymore. Today, he looks forward to going to Mass on Sundays. He knows what a privilege it is. His relationship with God has become much deeper and much more real. He has peace of mind and peace of heart. His faith is stronger now than it has ever been in his life.

These days, Bill assists Mary Ann in Our Lady’s Catholic Book and Gift Shop on the grounds of Our Lady of the Rosary parish. He sees his work there as a ministry. He always wears a little pin of St. Pio and a medal of St. Benedict. People often ask him about the pin and the medal. It has become an opportunity for him to share his faith with others. He keeps prayer cards of St. Pio with him and often gives them to the customers at the shop.

At the Padre Pio prayer group one evening, Father Solcia surprised Bill by asking him to step forward and share his testimony with the prayer group. He was happy to do so. Since that time, many people have asked Bill to relate his story of how Padre Pio helped him in the hospital, after his doctors had informed his family that he had no hope of recovery. A number of people have told Bill that his words have strengthened their faith.

Bill feels that he has been given a second chance at life. His family was certain that they were losing him. His own doctor confirmed it. But as our faith teaches us, God always has the final word. Indeed, our lives are in His hands. Bill knows for certain now that he has work left to do. Each new day is a gift from God and an opportunity to share his faith and to serve. Today Bill is alive and well and working in the service the Lord.

[karla-the-elemental-dreamer]

Favourite “18-Volt” Dream?

To get this blog looking nice and alive, I might post some past dreams. Since 18-Volt’s the newest dream guide, might as well share my favourite experience with him so far. The first dream he ever came helped me in was No. 403, favourite so far is No. 437 B (meaning there were 2 dreams in one night and this was the 2nd one in recap order). I have phobias in waking life which I have been trying to slowly work at, especially with my guides, so that’s the main context of the dream. Why it’s my favourite though; that’s actually the first instance that I’ve kissed and been kissed by my dream guide. Also, as you’ll read in the actual recap, 18-Volt felt so real, like he was literally a flesh human right in-front of me! You might be thinking he’s a clumsy klutz in WarioWare but full of this powerful energy and more emotionally intelligent in my dreams... This was only made possible because I like to believe Dreamy WB trained him up behind the scenes in his first couple of weeks. Her guidance towards him was also evident in dreams like 410 B and 415 A and also a collaboration with both of them taking similar roles to each other in 430. Right, now to the actual dream, copied straight from my dream journal, with a bonus pic at the bottom drawn by me:

DREAM 437 B - JUST COME AS YOU ARE (Lucid Dream 27)

The dream started with me at my other grandparents’ house, although I forgot what was specifically going on. When I went into the sitting room, there was mention of some Wii game simulation that I would be a part of. I then entered into the scene of the Wii game simulation, it was some kind of snow slide with a dark frosty sky. 18-Volt could be seen from the back and he was realistically textured. The dream also changed his clothing to be a short-sleeved maroon coloured t-shirt and medium toned denim jeans. His skin was a bit lighter than usual and he had brown frizzy but somewhat spiky hair and it wasn’t tied up either; rather it was was a shorter haircut overall. He also wore glasses with clear lenses that had thick black frames around them. So first, the dream showed 18-Volt from the back but then it went over to my perspective, where I was sitting on his lap as he slid. He had me strapped in with his arms, having them placed around my stomach, as I leaned back, sinking my upper back into his chest. The environment around us was cold but I rather felt very warm and perceived 18-Volt’s temperature to be near hot, almost as if he operated like a heater. As 18-Volt leaned back slightly as he was sliding, I almost felt like falling asleep at some points. I was then on the slide again but this time, I was by myself. There were soon these paper obstacles that I can’t exactly describe but I aimed to jump on each and every one of them. At the end of this slide run, this holographic board was shown and apparently it showed who I went with for each go. I went with 18-Volt for about the first six or seven times and then after that, I rode with some other characters, including Waluigi one time, which I actually felt awkward about when I found out. The dream then changed scenes and I was back in the main dimension with my mum. We were talking about our visit to the other grandparents’ house although I forgot what was specifically said. We were now in our local area, near the primary school and we entered into this stranger’s house. Back in their front yard, just under the carport, my mum and I were discussing about what bows to choose for my other grandma’s present. We came to this large, skinny gift bag that was sitting on a chair and there were all these bows in it. I picked out a bow and told my mum what I thought of it. We ended up picking out a lime green coloured one but it wasn’t chosen after some discussion. The next bow we pulled out was a red colour and it had some spiky points and stars on it along with some gold speckles; we decided that this would be the bow to use for the present as it suited my other grandma’s personality the most. After this, I started walking down the hill alone. I was slowly, aimlessly wandering down the road, I was thinking about the bow picking with my mum and although absolutely no reality check was performed, I somehow became aware that this was all a dream. Straight away, without hesitation, my intention clicked over to call 18-Volt. Amazingly, I now had my wits about me just like I was existing in waking life. So I mentally planned out what I was going to do; I was going to trick the dream into thinking that I had no intentions to use 18-Volt for an elevator scene. As I continued to mosey along down the road, I called out “18-Volt!”, no response, “18-Volt!”. And then I went on to say “Please come! Don’t worry about the elevator scene! Just come as you are and we’ll find something else to do together!”. I continued to talk in a similar fashion and that’s when the most miraculous thing happened. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw 18-Volt start to walk up from the bottom of the hill. It was even more impressive (and somewhat scary) because I had the standard waking-life awareness. I decided to remain quiet for a few seconds just to see what would happen and 18-Volt just continued to slowly march up the hill. His appearance was WarioWare Gold but with semi-realistic textures. Once the reality of the situation had sunk in, I became so excited that this time, I ran up to 18-Volt. When I was close enough, he stopped where he was in the middle of the hill and when I finally got to him, I hugged him. After hugging me back, he picked me up and, because of waking-life awareness, I took an extra step to greet him; I kissed him on the cheek. He got startled but in a good way as he must have been previously zoned out. He then gave me a kiss on the cheek, not only that, he kissed me on the other cheek as well. I then kissed him on his other cheek also. When I thought I had done enough of the formalities, I then asked him to take me for an elevator scene. He smiled at me, in agreement but also as if he knew and was amused that I was trying to trick the dream earlier on. Although a seemingly average guy in video-game portrayals; in the dream world, he’s very smart and he knew the temperament of an uncooperative sub-conscience. He made sure I was comfortable and then continued in the direction that he was originally going in. The dream then faded into another scene. We were now at an unknown shopping centre, 18-Volt carrying me in the same position as we were at the end of the previous scene. I was facing in towards him as he had one hand on my upper back and one hand on my butt, supporting my weight. To make sure I was extra secure, I had my legs wrapped around him. At some points of the dream though, he turned me around so I was facing outwards, with my back leaning into him as he had his arms locked around my stomach area. Although my legs were dangling, it didn’t feel like I was about to drop and rather he still supported my weight very well. In one of the parts of the dream where I was facing outwards, we walked past some lift doors but I didn’t think they were quite right; the door looked too dark and so I thought the inside would be dark as well. As 18-Volt continued walking slowly so I could look around, I said to him, “I just need to look for the right elevator, one that doesn’t look too dark and is rather half decent”. Indeed a lot of areas in the shopping centre weren’t very well lit and so I thought the results would be dodgy. 18-Volt and I decided that we would go to the end of the shopping centre where there would hopefully be a lot of windows, therefore lighting up the area appropriately like a real life surrounding. In the areas where there weren’t any lifts around, 18-Volt turned me back around to face in towards him, in a way, signalling for me to have a rest. In-fact whenever I was facing in towards him, there was always this warm, pleasurable sensation that I would feel, more in some areas and less in some others. It felt like ages but eventually, we came to one end of the shopping centre, on the ground floor, leading to an undercover car park and although it was still dark, I thought we’d try that elevator as it looked better than the others I had seen. At this point, 18-Volt had me facing outwards as he carried me towards the door. He stopped a few metres away so I could observe the door opening from a reasonable distance. When the door to the elevator opened, there was some red and orange paint-like stuff in there. 18-Volt turned me back in so he could talk to me. In an accurate version of his voice from WarioWare Gold, including the American accent, he said to me, “You might wanna take your top off. The red and orange colours in there will raise your blood pressure. You’re gonna get hot”. I’m surprised he actually knew something about colour psychology. He must have also said that considering he knew how much I was going to panic when I was in there. I ended up taking off my top layer which I discovered to be my light mint green Review cardigan. He then said to me, “Do you mind if I go to the bathroom to take my jacket off?”. My mind was envisioning that he would be wearing a deep blue-green short-sleeved t-shirt underneath. My physiological signs though were saying something else; I was shaking and my heart was racing, I could literally feel the frantic pulse! After some hesitation, he said, “Actually, I’m not gonna worry about it”. He felt that I didn’t want to be left alone in front of the elevator and that I thought the dream could make him go missing if he left my sight. I was then turned to face outwards again as 18-Volt brought me right up to the door. He stood there silently for a few seconds, waiting for my breathing and pulse to reduce before he would press the button to open the door. The dream then took a slight turn; a woman walked by and seemed like she was interested in what 18-Volt was doing. She stood a couple of metres from us and made a comment that it was interesting, the method that 18-Volt was using would be constructive to parenting rather than the typical approach of bullying the child. If felt like she was actually re-evaluating the way she treated her own child. The lift doors soon opened and 18-Volt proceeded to calmly and slowly take me in. The woman also ended up coming in and as this was happening, the dream was beginning to play this sub-scene. There was this electronic touch-screen board in the elevator, sponsored by Big W, where you could construct a mean phrase for a parent to say to their child. While still in 18-Volt’s arms, I tried to create a phrase myself but since I was lucid, I realised that none of the phrases made sense and so I didn’t know which ones to join together. After pressing a few buttons, I woke up.

[astralsecrets]

Dream - Trying On My Wardrobe & Just Come As You Are

Date of Dream: SAT 29 SEP - 2018 Dream No. 437 - Separated Sections Dream 437 A - Trying On My Wardrobe I don’t remember much about this dream; it took place at my old house. I was in my bedroom and I was trying on this huge array of clothes that I had in my wardrobe. Some fit and some didn’t, I was trying to see what clothes I needed to give away to charity. At the end of the dream, I remember specifically trying on a purple belt that I really liked the look of and so said I should wear it more often. That’s all I can remember for this dream. Dream 437 B - Just Come As You Are (Lucid Dream 27) The dream started with me at my other grandparents’ house, although I forgot what was specifically going on. When I went into the sitting room, there was mention of some Wii game simulation that I would be a part of. I then entered into the scene of the Wii game simulation, it was some kind of snow slide with a dark frosty sky. 18-Volt could be seen from the back and he was realistically textured. The dream also changed his clothing to be a short-sleeved maroon coloured t-shirt and medium toned denim jeans. His skin was a bit lighter than usual and he had brown frizzy but somewhat spiky hair and it wasn’t tied up either; rather it was was a shorter haircut overall. He also wore glasses with clear lenses that had thick black frames around them. So first, the dream showed 18-Volt from the back but then it went over to my perspective, where I was sitting on his lap as he slid. He had me strapped in with his arms, having them placed around my stomach, as I leaned back, sinking my upper back into his chest. The environment around us was cold but I rather felt very warm and perceived 18-Volt’s temperature to be near hot, almost as if he operated like a heater. As 18-Volt leaned back slightly as he was sliding, I almost felt like falling asleep at some points. I was then on the slide again but this time, I was by myself. There were soon these paper obstacles that I can’t exactly describe but I aimed to jump on each and every one of them. At the end of this slide run, this holographic board was shown and apparently it showed who I went with for each go. I went with 18-Volt for about the first six or seven times and then after that, I rode with some other characters, including Waluigi one time, which I actually felt awkward about when I found out. The dream then changed scenes and I was back in the main dimension with my mum. We were talking about our visit to the other grandparents’ house although I forgot what was specifically said. We were now in our local area, near the primary school and we entered into this stranger’s house. Back in their front yard, just under the carport, my mum and I were discussing about what bows to choose for my other grandma’s present. We came to this large, skinny gift bag that was sitting on a chair and there were all these bows in it. I picked out a bow and told my mum what I thought of it. We ended up picking out a lime green coloured one but it wasn’t chosen after some discussion. The next bow we pulled out was a red colour and it had some spiky points and stars on it along with some gold speckles; we decided that this would be the bow to use for the present as it suited my other grandma’s personality the most. After this, I started walking down the hill alone. I was slowly, aimlessly wandering down the road, I was thinking about the bow picking with my mum and although absolutely no reality check was performed, I somehow became aware that this was all a dream. Straight away, without hesitation, my intention clicked over to call 18-Volt. Amazingly, I now had my wits about me just like I was existing in waking life. So I mentally planned out what I was going to do; I was going to trick the dream into thinking that I had no intentions to use 18-Volt for an elevator scene. As I continued to mosey along down the road, I called out “18-Volt!”, no response, “18-Volt!”. And then I went on to say “Please come! Don’t worry about the elevator scene! Just come as you are and we’ll find something else to do together!”. I continued to talk in a similar fashion and that’s when the most miraculous thing happened. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw 18-Volt start to walk up from the bottom of the hill. It was even more impressive (and somewhat scary) because I had the standard waking-life awareness. I decided to remain quiet for a few seconds just to see what would happen and 18-Volt just continued to slowly march up the hill. His appearance was WarioWare Gold but with semi-realistic textures. Once the reality of the situation had sunk in, I became so excited that this time, I ran up to 18-Volt. When I was close enough, he stopped where he was in the middle of the hill and when I finally got to him, I hugged him. After hugging me back, he picked me up and, because of waking-life awareness, I took an extra step to greet him; I kissed him on the cheek. He got startled but in a good way as he must have been previously zoned out. He then gave me a kiss on the cheek, not only that, he kissed me on the other cheek as well. I then kissed him on his other cheek also. When I thought I had done enough of the formalities, I then asked him to take me for an elevator scene. He smiled at me, in agreement but also as if he knew and was amused that I was trying to trick the dream earlier on. Although a seemingly average guy in video-game portrayals; in the dream world, he’s very smart and he knew the temperament of an uncooperative sub-conscience. He made sure I was comfortable and then continued in the direction that he was originally going in. The dream then faded into another scene. We were now at an unknown shopping centre, 18-Volt carrying me in the same position as we were at the end of the previous scene. I was facing in towards him as he had one hand on my upper back and one hand on my butt, supporting my weight. To make sure I was extra secure, I had my legs wrapped around him. At some points of the dream though, he turned me around so I was facing outwards, with my back leaning into him as he had his arms locked around my stomach area. Although my legs were dangling, it didn’t feel like I was about to drop and rather he still supported my weight very well. In one of the parts of the dream where I was facing outwards, we walked past some lift doors but I didn’t think they were quite right; the door looked too dark and so I thought the inside would be dark as well. As 18-Volt continued walking slowly so I could look around, I said to him, “I just need to look for the right elevator, one that doesn’t look too dark and is rather half decent”. Indeed a lot of areas in the shopping centre weren’t very well lit and so I thought the results would be dodgy. 18-Volt and I decided that we would go to the end of the shopping centre where there would hopefully be a lot of windows, therefore lighting up the area appropriately like a real life surrounding. In the areas where there weren’t any lifts around, 18-Volt turned me back around to face in towards him, in a way, signalling for me to have a rest. In-fact whenever I was facing in towards him, there was always this warm, pleasurable sensation that I would feel, more in some areas and less in some others. It felt like ages but eventually, we came to one end of the shopping centre, on the ground floor, leading to an undercover car park and although it was still dark, I thought we’d try that elevator as it looked better than the others I had seen. At this point, 18-Volt had me facing outwards as he carried me towards the door. He stopped a few metres away so I could observe the door opening from a reasonable distance. When the door to the elevator opened, there was some red and orange paint-like stuff in there. 18-Volt turned me back in so he could talk to me. In an accurate version of his voice from WarioWare Gold, including the American accent, he said to me, “You might wanna take your top off. The red and orange colours in there will raise your blood pressure. You’re gonna get hot”. I’m surprised he actually knew something about colour psychology. He must have also said that considering he knew how much I was going to panic when I was in there. I ended up taking off my top layer which I discovered to be my light mint green Review cardigan. He then said to me, “Do you mind if I go to the bathroom to take my jacket off?”. My mind was envisioning that he would be wearing a deep blue-green short-sleeved t-shirt underneath. My physiological signs though were saying something else; I was shaking and my heart was racing, I could literally feel the frantic pulse! After some hesitation, he said, “Actually, I’m not gonna worry about it”. He felt that I didn’t want to be left alone in front of the elevator and that I thought the dream could make him go missing if he left my sight. I was then turned to face outwards again as 18-Volt brought me right up to the door. He stood there silently for a few seconds, waiting for my breathing and pulse to reduce before he would press the button to open the door. The dream then took a slight turn; a woman walked by and seemed like she was interested in what 18-Volt was doing. She stood a couple of metres from us and made a comment that it was interesting, the method that 18-Volt was using would be constructive to parenting rather than the typical approach of bullying the child. If felt like she was actually re-evaluating the way she treated her own child. The lift doors soon opened and 18-Volt proceeded to calmly and slowly take me in. The woman also ended up coming in and as this was happening, the dream was beginning to play this sub-scene. There was this electronic touch-screen board in the elevator, sponsored by Big W, where you could construct a mean phrase for a parent to say to their child. While still in 18-Volt’s arms, I tried to create a phrase myself but since I was lucid, I realised that none of the phrases made sense and so I didn’t know which ones to join together. After pressing a few buttons, I woke up. Dream Tasks - Have Logan receive harsh penalties from Dreamy WB due to reckless social behaviours (Achieved? Partially) - Have all members on the dream guide team obtain and apply knowledge on how to provide in-dream discipline to unruly parents (Achieved? No) Challenges - Start the dream off with a dream guide already present (Achieved? No) Dream 437: Results (Competition #7) 437 A Competition Night: 28 Lucid or Non-Lucid?: Non-Lucid Dream Guide: None Emergency Team: None Eligible For Competition Points: Yes 437 B Competition Night: 28 Lucid or Non-Lucid?: Lucid Dream Guide: 18-Volt Emergency Team: None Eligible For Competition Points: Yes Points For This Entry: 36.0 Calculation Details: - Non-Lucid Fragment (0.5) - Non-Lucid Fragment: First Section of 437 B (0.5) - First Lucid Of The Night (10.0) - Summon Dream Guide While Lucid: 18-Volt (10.0) - New Personal Goal While Lucid: Successfully have 18-Volt take you for lift fear control (15.0) + Previous Total: 110.0 Total Accumulated Points: 146.0

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8297989 https://www.dreamviews.com/blogs/karlab18/dream-trying-my-wardrobe-just-come-you-85517/

[jessdog1234]

Dr. Curly & The Runaway Catheter Reflections of a Nurse Part 2

Part Two of my nursing story series, instigated by the memories of decent people that I want to memorialize for their extraordinary dedication to helping others.  If you missed Part One, follow this link.

https://karendevaney.wordpress.com/2018/08/31/ode-to-janice-the-first-in-a-series-of-nursing-stories/

Meet Dr. Curly, a tall wide smiled middle-aged man with slightly thinning hair who all of us nurses referred to as Dr. C.  Dr. C had a sense of humor that could make a corpse chuckle. He also had a penchant for storytelling that rivaled Mark Twain, his attention to detail down to accents and wrinkles was pure literature.  Dr. C was one of the Hospitalists (physicians whose primary focus is general medicine for hospitalized patients) at a small community hospital I was working at, somewhere around 2003, and I absolutely adored him, we all did.  He listened to his patients and was honest with them.  If he didn’t know something, he’d call in a specialist, he had no ego, which was refreshing.

It was warm Sunday afternoon, and the medical/surgical floor I was working on was humming along like a sweet summer day, not too crazy or chaotic a perfect pace. Dr. C and I were admitting a patient from a nearby facility for developmentally delayed people. In reality, it was an ancient institution whose walls harbored secrets of families who had long ago abandoned they're less than perfect children. It was a dark, dank place that wreaked of sadness.  For privacy sake, let’s just call this patient, Susan.  Susan had a host of diagnoses, one of which made her prone to fits of violence and spitting.  She was also a biter, so putting in an Intravenous infusion (an IV) was something like trying to talk a hungry lion out of eating a raw piece of meat.  But, Dr. C prided himself on being able to tame the wildest of animals, he was confident that with my help, he could calm Susan down.

Because Susan needed close monitoring, she had to have a catheter, which meant I had to put a tube through her vagina into her bladder.  Another hoot and holler opportunity.  Dr. C went in to see Susan with his charisma and charm, and for the first twenty minutes, I was impressed with his progress.  Susan allowed him to take her blood pressure, temperature, pulse, and to make his usual Hospitalist probes. Most of the docs refused to do this, they left it up to the nurses, but Dr. C was always in the trenches, elbow to elbow with us. He was old school, him and I would see patients together, and he’d make them laugh, put them at ease, then we’d leave the room, and he’d tell me how sick they were. “People need hope though to get better,” he’d say, and I agreed.  Take away hope, and you may as well hand the patient a death certificate.

It came time for us to put the IV and catheter in and Dr. C was there to hold down the arm and the legs.  It turns out we needed reinforcement and protection.  Susan who was all smiles while describing what we were going to do, had suddenly turned rabid when it came down to the doing; Dr. C and I understood that she was afraid.  Regardless, we didn’t want spit flying in our faces, so we geared up, goggles, masks, gloves, and gowns.  It took a team of six to finally get everything in.  Exhausted from resisting, Susan fell asleep, and Dr. C and I thought okay, the worst is over.  He was not the kind of doctor who wanted to sedate a patient just because they were difficult he sincerely believed in the power of human kindness and understanding.  Most of the docs refused to treat people like Susan without first sedating them.

For the first hour, Susan was a gentle lamb.  I checked on her, gave her some juice and spoke in a reassuring voice.  But when she asked me, “when do the tubes come out?”  and I simply said, soon, things began to unravel.  She reached for the IV arm and yanked, blood spurted everywhere, and she started screaming F-bombs.  Dr. C heard the commotion and came running in.  Noticing the fountain of red and the IV tubing flung on the floor, he came over to Susan, while I ran to get some gauze.  Whatever he said to her, it calmed her down again, and we were able to re-install the IV, this time we wrapped it for safe keeping.

Once again, Susan lapsed into listless lamb mode and her anger seemed to have dissolved.  Fifteen minutes later, Dr. C and I were at the nurse's station, feeling smug that we had been able to de-escalate Susan’s rising agitation and we were sure, once she was feeling better, she would be a happy, cooperative patient. Dr. C stood up to leave when we were both startled by a blood-curdling scream, coming from Susan’s room. Before we could take a step, Susan came running down the hallway, naked (her enormous breasts like slow motion jellyfish pulsing up and down), blood spewing from where the second IV had once been, and the catheter, still miraculously attached, bouncing behind her on the linoleum floor.

Dr. C and I looked at one another our mouths gaped open, “well, I guess she showed us who’s boss” he said, and began to laugh.

“We tried,” I replied.  “So now what?”

“We try again,” He said and left chuckling as he headed to for more IV equipment then turned back around. “Maybe she didn’t like the room she’s in, let’s move her across from the nurse's station. I bet you she was just lonely.”

I shook my head and looked at the clock.  Only six more hours to go.

[angst-fairygodmother]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @miss-kittys-magical-library. I didn’t think I’d have anything to do here, but I went ahead and ignored all the things I should be doing to write a little Alfie x Reader. Because I really am a best friend/sidekick loving fool.

Tagging: 🤷‍♀️ everyone? anyone? Not sure whose got projects they’re working on and want to share right now.

“Why do you call him Scarecrow?” Billy asked, planting his elbows on the bar next to you as you watched Alfie saunter off toward a group of giggling girls in the corner.

“Oh god,” you laughed awkwardly. “It’s been a running joke since primary school. Mostly it’s because he walks around like he doesn’t know what bones are. But also…” you cleared your throat, putting on an accent and singing, “If I only had a brain…”

Billy laughed. “That seems mean.”

“Oh come on. You know I’m right. Alfie has one of the biggest hearts I know, but...he’s sweet, and adorable, and stupid. Like a puppy.”

“I guess he’d have to be, to not see that his best friend is in love with him.”

“You are?” you joked, heart racing at how quickly Billy had seen through you, and the shrewd gaze he leveled at you.

“Y/N,” he sighed, fixing you with a firm look. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“Because it always seemed like a bad time, and then he left. And besides...Alfie’s type is tall and leggy and supermodel-y. And I’m...just me,” you shrugged. You had given up a long time ago on that venture, preferring to watch from afar and be there for him when he needed you, usually because another one of his Type had broken his heart.

“I think you’d be surprised, if you give him a chance.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be doling out drinks with your wisdom, Mr. Cliché?” 

Billy shrugged, turning back to the wall of liquor bottles, before returning a moment later to place a glass on the bar-top.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyeing it, and him, suspiciously.

“A drink to go with my wisdom.” He smiled winningly, and even you, with your heart set on someone else, were not immune to his charms for a moment. “Specifically, though it pains me to make, it’s a scotch and soda, with a twist. Orange not lime. Alfie may have mentioned they were your favorite.”

“And you remembered that before we even met?” you raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. 

“A good bartender knows his customers. And he mentioned it more than once.”

You marveled for a moment at the idea that you had come up in conversation between the two young men, especially so frequently that Billy had been able to commit your drink of choice to memory. Actually, it seemed miraculous that Alfie had even known, let alone shared that information. You nibbled nervously on the end of the straw, puzzling over what that meant.