#The Battle For Willesden

[guerrerense]

The Golden Arrow Statesman, (Explore) por Tim Stocker Por Flickr: | Getty Images | 500px | Flickr | Steam Train:- ‘Battle of Britain’ Pacific 34067 ‘Tangmere’ Willesden - Canterbury - Willesden. Taken at Sturry Station. Single RAW photo, processed in Photoshop Elements 10 & Topaz Adjust Canon 5d f4.5 1/500 sec ISO 500 Reached 'Explore' #77 Thanks for all your nice comments.

[1977records]

WILLIAM ENGLISH Venus With Severed Leg A Portrait Of Vivienne Westwood In 1975 2024年11月23日（土）ー 12月28日（土） 13 - 19時（火水休） 注：12月12 & 13日（木金）は都合によりお休みとなります。 Note: PUNKTURE will be closed on 12 & 13 December (Thursday & Friday). 場所 : PUNKTURE 東京都渋谷区神宮前3-26-5 URAHARA CENTRAL APARTMENT 203

PUNKTURE第七番目の企画展はイギリス人女性映像作家、写真家、ウィリアム・イングリッシュがパンク誕生前夜の1975年に撮影したヴィヴィアン・ウエストウッドの作品を中心に展示販売いたします。パンク・ファッションの生みの親であるヴィヴィアン・ウエストウッド。

マルコム・マクラーレンと始めた伝説のショップ”SEX”で撮影された彼女のリアルな姿を通じ、パンクとはなんなのか、パンク・ファッションとはどんなものなのか、そして数々の伝説をファッション業界に残したヴィヴィアン・ウエストウッドとは。

展示会場には写真作品の他、2004年にヴィヴィアン・ウエストウッドが作品にサインしている映像とウィリアム・イングリッシュが1977年に制作した映像作品「1977」を上映いたします。「1977」はロンドンで起こったグランウィック紛争 [1] の最中、1977年8月13日のルーイシャムの戦い：反国家戦線デモ [2] 映像で、サウンドトラックはウィリアムがフ��イバリット・バンドとあげているディス・ヒートによるもの。共に大変貴重な映像作品となります。

会期中、ウィリアム・イングリッシュのヴィヴィアン・ウエストウッド・フォトT、スウェットを11月末より順に限定販売！詳しい販売時期はインスタにてご報告いたします。 [1] グランウィック紛争は、ロンドン郊外ウィレスデンのドリス・ヒル、チャプター・ロードにあるグランウィック・フィルム・プロセシング・ラボラトリーズの労働組合承認をめぐるイギリスの労使紛争で、1976年から1978年にかけて2年にわたるストライキに発展。 [2] 1977年8月13日、極右の国民戦線（NF）のメンバー500人がロンドン南東部のニュークロスからルイシャムまでデモ行進を行おうとしたところ、約4,000人のさまざまな反対デモに遭遇し、両グループと反NFデモ隊と警察の間で激しい衝突が起こった。 5,000人の警官が参加し、56人の警官が負傷、うち11人が入院し、合計214人が逮捕された。 その後、ルイシャムの町の中心部で起きた騒乱では、イギリス本土で初めて警察の機動盾が使用される。

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William English（ウィリアム・イングリッシュ）

1951年生。イギリスの映像作家、写真家、書店経営者として知られている。ロンドン映画学校（1972年卒）で映画制作を学び、数多くの実験的なフィルム作品を手掛ける。また、アートや映画のイベントでも活躍しており、特にロンドンやパリなどの著名な場所での上映歴が多数。

写真活動

ヴィヴィアン・ウェストウッドのショップ、SEX時代の写真（1975年）をウィーンのクンストハレなどで展示。

映画制作

『1977』（1977年）、『Dining Room』（1982–1991年）、『Heated Gloves』（2015年）、 『It’s My Own Invention』（2017年）、『Ex Library』（2009年）。 Vivienne Westwood (ヴィヴィアン・ウェストウッド)

1941年生 - 2022年没。イギリスのファッションデザイナー・実業家で、モダン・パンク、ニューウェーブ・ファッションを主流にした張本人。

彼女はマルコム・マクラーレンとともにキングズ・ロードで経営していたブティック「SEX」で服を作り、世間に知られるようになる。服飾と音楽を融合させた彼らの才能は、マクラーレンのバンド、セックス・ピストルズを中心とする1970年代の英国パンク・シーンを形成し、世界の音楽シーンに多大なる影響を与える。

ロンドンに4つのショップをオープンし、やがてイギリス国内だけでなく世界中に店舗を広げ、ますます多様な商品を販売。その中には、核軍縮キャンペーン、気候変動、公民権団体など、彼女の多くの政治的活動を推進するものもあった。

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WILLIAM ENGLISH Venus With Severed Leg A Portrait Of Vivienne Westwood In 1975 Saturday 23 NOVEMBER - Saturday 28 DECEMBER 2024 Open 13:00 - 19:00 / Closed Tue & Wed Note: PUNKTURE will be closed on 12 & 13 December (Thursday & Friday). at PUNKTURE 3-26-5 URAHARA CENTRAL APARTMENT 203, JINGUMAE, SHIBUYA-KU, TOKYO

PUNKTURE's seventh exhibition will focus on the work of British female filmmaker and photographer William English, who photographed Vivienne Westwood in 1975, on the eve of the birth of punk. Vivienne Westwood is the creator of punk fashion.

Through her real image photographed at the legendary shop ‘SEX’, which she started with Malcolm McLaren, the exhibition will show what punk is, what punk fashion is all about and the many legends it has left behind in the fashion industry. What is Vivienne Westwood?

We hope you will feel something from this exhibition.

In addition to the photographic works, the exhibition will include a video of Vivienne Westwood signing her work in 2004 and William English's 1977 film ‘1977’. 1977' is a film of the Battle of Lewisham: Anti-National Front demonstration [2] on 13 August 1977, during the Grunwick War [1] in London, with a soundtrack by Dis Heat, a band William considers to be his favourite band. Both are very valuable video works.

During the exhibition, William English's Vivienne Westwood photo T and sweatshirt will be on sale in limited quantities in sequence from the end of November! Detailed sales dates will be announced on the installation.

[1] The Grunwick dispute was a British industrial dispute over trade union recognition at Grunwick Film Processing Laboratories, Chapter Road, Doris Hill, Willesden, outside London, which led to a two-year strike between 1976 and 1978.

[2] On 13 August 1977, 500 members of the far-right National Front (NF) attempted to march from New Cross in south-east London to Lewisham when they were met by around 4,000 various counter-demonstrators, leading to violent clashes between the two groups, anti-NF demonstrators and police. 5,000 police officers attended, 56 were injured, 11 of whom were hospitalised, and a total of 214 were arrested. The subsequent disturbances in Lewisham town centre saw the use of police riot shields for the first time in mainland Britain.

William English

Born 1951. British filmmaker, photographer and bookshop owner, best known for his work as a filmmaker, photographer and bookshop owner.

She studied filmmaking at the London Film School (graduated 1972) and has worked on numerous experimental film works.

She is also active in art and film events and has screened many of his films in prominent venues, particularly in London and Paris.

Photographic activities

Vivienne Westwood shop, SEX era (1975), exhibited at the Kunsthalle Vienna, among others.

Film production

1977 (1977), Dining Room (1982-1991), Heated Gloves (2015), It's My Own Invention (2017), Ex Library (2009). Vivienne Westwood

Born 1941 - Died 2022. British fashion designer and entrepreneur, responsible for bringing modern punk and new wave fashion into the mainstream. She became known to the public when she and Malcolm McLaren created clothes for their boutique, SEX, which they ran on the King's Road. Their talent for combining clothing and music shaped the British punk scene of the 1970s, led by McLaren's band, the Sex Pistols, and had a profound impact on the international music scene.

They opened four shops in London and soon expanded their reach across the UK and around the world, selling an increasingly diverse range of products. Some of these promoted her many political causes, such as nuclear disarmament campaigns, climate change and civil rights groups.

[sasa-chans-random-history]

January 05

[1855] King Camp Gillette, American inventor and first manufacturer of a razor with disposable blades, was born.

[1931] Robert Duvall, American award-winning actor and filmmaker, born in San Diego, California.

[1934] Eddy Pieters Graafland OON, Dutch football goalkeeper, born in Amsterdam, Netherlands.

[1938] Piet Kruiver, Dutch footballer, born in Koog aan de Zaan, Netherlands.

[1938] Juan Carlos I, King of Spain (1975-2014), born in Rome, Italy.

[1946] Diane Keaton, American actress, born in Los Angeles, California.

[1951] Steve Arnold, English footballer, born in Willesden, London.

[1960] Glenn Strömberg, Swedish footballer, born in Lundby Gothenburg, Sweden.

[1965] Vinnie Jones, English-born Welsh footballer and actor, born in Watford, United Kingdom.

[1969] Marilyn Manson, American shock-rock singer-songwriter, artist and actor, born in Canton, Ohio.

[1975] Bradley Cooper, American actor, born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

[1976] Diego Tristán, Spanish footballer, born in La Algaba, Spain.

[1978] January Jones, American actress and model, born in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

[1979] Ronnie O'Brien, Irish footballer, born in Bray, County Wicklow.

[1986] Teppei Koike, Japanese actor and singer, born in Osaka Prefecture, Japan.

[1989] Krisztián Németh, Hungarian football striker, born in Győr, Hungary.

[1066] Edward the Confessor, King of England (1042-66) and the last King from the House of Wessex, dies at around 60 to 63.

[1286] Zhenjin, Crown Prince of the Mongol Empire, dies at 43.

[1387] Pedro IV, King of Aragon/conqueror of Sicily, dies at 67.

[1448] Christopher of Bavaria, King of Denmark (1440-48), Norway (1441-48) and Sweden (1442-48), dies suddenly at 31.

[1477] Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy (1467-77), killed in the Battle of Nancy by Swiss mercenaries at 43.

[1589] Catherine de' Medici, Italian born Queen Consort to King Henry II of France and later regent to her sons, dies at 69.

[1762] Elizabeth of Russia, Empress of Russia (1741-62) and daughter of Peter the Great, dies at 52.

[1827] Frederick Augustus, Duke of York and Albany, second son of King George III of Great Britain, died.

[1929] Nicholas Nikolaevich Romanov, Grand Duke of Russia and General in World War I (1914-18), dies at 72.

[2014] Eusébio da Silva Ferreira, Portuguese footballer, dies from heart failure at 71.

[2018] Antonio Valentín Angelillo, Italian-Argentinian footballer dies at 80.

[2019] Dragoslav Šekularac, Serbian footballer dies at 81.

[2020] Hans Tilkowski, German football goalkeeper, dies at 84.

[2021] Colin Bell, English football midfielder, dies at 74.

[angstymarshmallow]

“The Battle for Willesden” (Part 11 Of Fantasy AU, a TRR fanfic)

[A little note: I told myself I wouldn’t go to bed this time without finishing chapter eleven after agonizing over it for a week. It’s still rough, but I am honestly just excited...and tired at 3:00 am to edit over pls forgive me.  I would love to know your thoughts and without further ado, here it is! Thanks for reading :D]

[Summary: Sparrow’s betrayal has left the commnfolk of Willesden terrified. With enemies now within their walls, can Robyn (MC), Drake, Maxwell and the villagers find a way to protect this town from Neville’s cruelty?]

[Word Count: 6062]

Part 1: “The Beginning” Part 2: “The Adventurer” Part 3: “The Knight” Part 4: “The Jester” Part 5: “The Untimely Meeting” Part 6: “The Unlikely Alliance” Part 7: “The Mismatched Trio” Part 8: “The Ambush” Part 9: “The Plan B” Part 10: “The Rebels of Willesden”

The tendrils of flames licked and burned mahogany wood away; brighter than any star in the midnight sky and far brighter than any fire Robyn had ever seen. It spread quickly until there was hardly anything left, except for mountains of ash and the resonating sound of stunned silence from the onlookers that had intended to storm the mayor’s home.

Owen had led the charge, his jaw set tight with determination and his will hell-bent on forcing the man to see reason. However, at the sight of Sparrow and the mercenaries trailing behind the spy, he had ordered everyone into a heart-stopping halt. And like the rest of the villagers – he found himself unable to look away; transfixed and horrified by the fearsome image they made – the of them with Sparrow’s small and lithe figure standing in the middle. Fear kept him rooted.  Anger compelled him to stay.

From where they stood, Robyn’s own lips gaped at the intimidating display they created, but her shock was just as quickly replaced by anger. Anger and resentment for allowing herself to be deluded into thinking Sparrow cared.

The air around Robyn seemed to sizzle with the flare of her temper – a burning, nearly all-too consuming resentment that built the longer she stared. She could feel her hackles rise, could feel magic coursing and pumping through her veins – its familiar lull enticing her to speak. Forcibly, she bit into her lower lip hard enough to draw blood as her fear of spiraling out of control replaced her bitter temper at Sparrow’s betrayal.

She couldn’t allow herself to lose control. Not here. Not now.

Although, she knew Sparrow’s past was complicated and checkered, she thought their…comradery would have been enough to quell the small warnings that had rang inside her head when they first reunited at the tavern. Even worse, the gold pieces to ensure their silence did nothing to deter them.

Staring pensively ahead, Robyn realized trusting them had been a mistake. Since the very beginning, she imagined they were playing with a full deck and Robyn was simply dealt a bad hand.

She fought her way to the front of the crowd, not bothering to mutter excuses to the shoulders she bumped along the way. She was far too agitated and anxious to pay mind to anyone apart from who she was looking for. “Drake, Maxwell.” She hissed every now and then, until she had finally managed to find Owen – who looked tenser than she thought possible.

“Owen.” She called his name hesitantly and watched those eyes snapped to attention before flickering over at her in horror.

Her stomach dropped.

Shit.

He didn’t have a plan.

“Owen,” She tried again, fighting the abrupt panic she felt rising to her throat. “Owen, you need to stay calm.” She took a deep breath; trying to keep calm herself although her brain had already begun scurrying for an alternative way out of this mess.

She did not want to die today. “Are you with me?” She did not want to die at all.

The fear in his eyes held. Her fingers dug into his arm. “Are you with me?” She repeated, emphasizing every word. Slowly, she watched as his eyes changed into resolute steel.

“Aye.” He nodded.

She released a sigh, dropping her hands to her side. “Okay, good.” She couldn’t hide her relief.

She was afraid for a brief second that there had been no way to reach him. She had seen that look before, and fear as strong as that could destroy anyone. But he couldn’t stay there, there would end up with everyone dead and too many people relying on him to end up dead. “Have you seen –?”

“We’re here.” A voice interrupted.

Robyn broke eye contact with Owen to glimpse back at their familiar faces.

Drake and Maxwell met her relieved stare with one of their own. The knight’s eyes lingered a few seconds longer before his lips turned into a withering sneer and every ooze of worry had gone dry. “You told us to trust them.” His voice was accusatory and Robyn flinched.

“I know,” she mumbled weakly. There was nothing she could say in her defense, no admission of how terribly wrong she had been to trust Sparrow. Still, her lips fumbled with finding an apology adequate enough to make the creases in his brow disappear.

Drake ignored her. He had no time for such things. He shifted his gaze to Owen. “We need to get out of here.”  He stated flatly.

Owen blinked at him, as though in a daze before shaking his head vehemently. “No.”

What?

Drake stared at him in disbelief. He had to fight every nerve that was suddenly yelling at him to shove beefier man and twist his arm. Heavens, was he insane?

Drake’s jaw clenched.

“You can’t be serious,” Maxwell’s mouth flew open. He gestured behind them. “Everyone here will die.”

His voice had been loud enough to cause the crowd to stir. A single few of them stepped back while others murmured among themselves. Strangled gasps came from the rest, until Owen’s second in command – the woman with the scars had shushed them into begrudging silence. She waited patiently even with the shroud of doubt hanging in her eyes for Owen to speak on their behalf.

“There are more of us.” Owen said insistently.

“Numbers are not everything.” Drake pointed out. “Nor do they always work as an advantage.”

On that, Robyn could agree. Even with half of them gripping their makeshift weapons; she could tell by the way their hands shook that they were not well-equipped to deal with the mercenaries – people that have already killed and would kill again in cold blood without hesitating. 

“Has any of them ever fought before?” Drake responded hotly, his own temper rising with every word. He couldn’t believe their leader would so easily dismiss the two dozen mercenaries that halted to watch them from the top of the hill. “Has anyone of them even held a sword –” he jerked his chin to one villager in particular; who had been trembling violently as they spoke. “  - or struck at another man with the intent to kill?!”

“Drake –” Out of the corner of her eyes, Robyn realized most of the crowd was staring at them. All conversations of unease had fallen into a standstill to listen and she could feel the change in the air; growing tenser by the second – tense enough to cut even the thickest glass.

Drake ignored the quiet warning inside her voice. He would not dally in that likelihood, he did not want to mince his words. He had to force them to grasp what was on the line – how much danger they were in if they weren’t prepared. They had to fight to kill. They had to accept and live with those consequences, especially if the consequences meant they would not all survive. And it definitely did.

Stepping closer, Drake’s hands started trembling until he tightened them into fists and brought them to point at the larger man’s chest. “Has anyone of them watched someone else die? Someone they loved? Have you?”

“My mother died in Pinevale, the town over.” Owen’s eyes were unreadable. “She was travelling on business – for me. I was low on supplies and I needed someone to quickly slip out of town to procure some for me.” He shook his head as if struck by grief. “She left and never came back. A week passed before I heard the news….the mercenaries they…they paraded her carcass.” He lifted his chin higher. There was no longer a hint of fear inside his eyes - only fierce determination.  “I don’t want what happened to my mother to happen to my son, or my wife. Or anyone else in Willesden because the mayor doesn’t have the galls to do what needs to be done.”

From behind him, the crowd begun whispering amongst themselves; murmurs of agreement with every word their leader spoke. And Robyn felt something strange happen in that moment. In that moment, they were not a simple crowd of disgruntled villagers – they were a single entity, guided by the divine purpose of setting things right again.

And she wanted to help them.

“We may not all have experience like you sir.” Owen continued, unmasking his brunt greatsword. “But we are all prepared to risk our lives– because that is how much this means to us, how much freedom means to us and we won’t allow anyone to take away our freedom.”

The murmurs increased into cheers rose as people begun clapping each other on their backs.

Drake nodded, amazed and shocked by the sheer amount of people that willingly followed Owen. Even he was beginning to feel something inside himself stir at his words, as though this was indeed salvageable – that they could somehow come out of this alive. Truthfully, he admired him – admired every one of these villagers for not turning tail to run.

“So, what is the plan, Sir Drake?” Robyn asked, interrupting his thoughts. “You’re the one with the most experience.”

Drake surveyed the distance between them and the mercenaries – neither of which were moving. He couldn’t see Sparrow’s expression from there; but they appeared to be waiting for them to make the first move – which gave them time. “We do have the numbers,” he muttered with a sigh, “but unfortunately that’s all we have.” He turned back to scrutinize the crowd, “we should divide into two. Hit them on two fronts – with the most experienced people watching flanks.” He pointed to Owen, “you lead the first group, and I’ll lead the second. A smaller group to give yours a better chance.” He unsheathed his sword.

“I’ll come with you.” Robyn said without thinking. She hadn’t realized she had spoken aloud until both Maxwell and Drake stared at her in surprise. She folded her arms, “someone has to make sure you get out of this in one piece.”

Maxwell laughed, “have I ever mentioned how much I like you Lady Robyn?”

Drake ignored the strange flutter from her words and frowned at Maxwell’s teasing. These were things he could dwell upon later, however now was not the time to examine his feelings. He returned his attention to Owen and begun planning.

They split them into two; with Drake’s group acting as the decoy while the bulk of them lobbied behind their leaders.

None of the villagers questioned their new orders, instead they were huddled behind Owen, raising their pitched forks, brunt knives and other weapons that they grabbed in their hurry towards the mayor’s house. Maxwell had strongly implored to join Drake’s smaller and unmatched team, however the knight reassured him he would be fine. Ignoring the nobleman’s pout, he ordered him to remain with Owen in order to keep an eye on him.

Drake didn’t want to admit it but Maxwell was an excellent swordsman. He remembered brief moments of admiring his form and technique when they were younger and told the man with a gruff pat on the back to come back alive.

At least, he thought his don’t get killed transitioned well into that. He also ordered the nobleman to keep an eye on Owen. Then he joined the rest of his companions to watch in silence as Owen delivered to the crowd a final parting speech.

“I am grateful for all your help,” Owen begun with an amiable smile.  “To stand by me when you could have easily abandoned me – to stand for our cause against people that would take everything from us…no words can express how much this means, how thick and deep my gratitude runs. I do not know where the mayor is, but I know that in his place – I will always make it my vow to protect you.” His smile widened as people cheered his name, adding Mayor Owen to their chant before he moved to clap Drake’s back and then Maxwell’s. “Thank you for staying to fight with us.”

Drake unaccustomed to having people thank him, turned a slight shade of pink as he gave him a curt nod. “It’s an honour.”

Maxwell had hugged the larger man on a whim, and when Owen turned his gaze to Robyn; she gave him her own parting smile of goodbye. She hadn’t exactly shared his sentiments, or their success for surviving.

Marching to their group, Drake pretended not to notice Robyn’s uneasy stare. After a few seconds, he sighed and whirled around to face her. Her glance was fleeting as he arched an eyebrow. “Are you alright?”

She shrugged.

Realizing how soft his voice sounded, he forced a hard edge into is voice. “I hope you are planning on staying this time.” He said brusquely, “considering we were damned into this the moment you agreed with Maxwell to help that trading post.”

���I don’t think I should feel angry about having the chance to save people,” she threw over her shoulder; her eyes nearly flashing gold as she glared at him. “Knowing that we could make a difference.”

He clenched his jaw, remaining quiet.

She broke the stare first, shifting on one foot and averting her eyes towards the hill. It was nearly covered in smoke. “But I didn’t think this would happen, I don’t think anyone of us could – not even Maxwell.” Her shoulders dropped a fraction, “I certainly didn’t think I would be convincing myself to stay and fight….against a bunch of killers.” She wanted to laugh. “But I suppose I am still learning things about myself.”

“We will make it.”

He could hear the sudden despair in her voice, hear her resignation as though she didn’t share his faith. While his was wavering, he knew he couldn’t fight a way through this without placing more weight into their future. When she turned to him, her eyes were wide with fear that made his stomach clench. She – the bold adventurer, the woman with magic at her fingertips was terrified at the mere thought of their future. He would have laughed at the irony, if he hadn’t felt any sympathy.

Robyn paused, listening to his voice.

He sounded so damned sure – so damned certain that they could make it– when nearly everything inside of her was screaming otherwise. Her brain was telling her to run and her legs were telling the rest of her to flee and escape before things grew ugly.

And yet, meeting his eyes and seeing the uncanny intensity to his gaze – she knew she had all the reasons to stay. There were people counting on them, counting on her too – and she had never known what that was like.

The fear, the stress – the trepidation of ruining everything. It was overwhelming.

She felt the ghost of his fingers drift towards her hand. It happened quickly, so quickly she thought she had imagined it. But staring at him, hearing the quiet strength in his voice, made her want to believe in them too. “I’m a fool,” she said suddenly, “I’m a fool and yet I want to be anyway.”

His eyes never wavered from hers. “We’re all fools right now Robyn.” He said wryly.

The way he said her name made her warm for an entirely different reason. “I guess we’ll have to be fools together then.” Her hands were shaking, I’m too young to die – she thought to herself. I’m too young to see so much death. She felt alone – trapped in her own thoughts that begun spiralling out of control.

And suddenly, she wasn’t alone. She could feel his hand – finding her shoulder, burning through the fine texture of her blouse as the only barrier separating their skin. As she stared back at up him again, he squeezed her shoulder.

“You’re not alone.” He said quietly, “I’m here. We’re all here and we will make it.”

Drake had never been a man of many words but seeing her panic – something inside of him wanted to comfort her, to placate the fear he knew all too well. Fear that had kept him shackled when he was young, fear that even now – threatened to overwhelm him. Touching her had been a reflex – something he shouldn’t have done, but knew it was the right call once she nodded back at him. “We’ll make it.”

Robyn released a breath she hadn’t comprehended she was holding. She nodded mutely, still gathering her bearings as he stepped away and created distance between them. She slipped her silver dagger out of her pocket and ran her fingers across it, testing its sharpness. “We’ll make it.” She said finally.

He nodded back and they looked ahead.

The decision had been made.

-

Drake took his smaller team first into the fray. He raised his sword high above his head, armed with his battle cry as he led the charge towards the hill. Fifteen men and women followed behind him, screaming along with him as their feet scampered across the ash-covered grass.

They did not have to wait long.

The mercenaries begun moving as soon as Sparrow gave the order, raising their own arm in retaliation before the bandits flocked with them. They moved fluidly, as though they were one unit – and quite faster than the disorganized group still trailing behind Drake.

And yet, Drake did not allow that to deter him.

He was fighting for something again, something he believed in – and it felt good. It felt damned good for him to fight for something worth fighting for. And every swipe of his sword seemed to echo how much this would mean to people that needed it.

His battle cry had taken a few mercenaries off guard and he didn’t hesitate to rush into the first one. He slammed into him, nearly knocking the man off his feet. He wasn’t wearing armor and had to be careful, yet the way he was taught to hold his sword required a more closer and hand’s on approach.

The mercenary’s arms flayed to try and stop himself from falling and Drake took it as an opportunity to shove the shorter man back, spotting and quickly stabbing right through the weakness in his armor – a small plating that was half-broken by his leg. The man cried out as blood funneled in spurts and yet, Drake did not stop his relentless pursuit until he could sever the leg and swept through the air for his neck.

Near-by, Robyn nimbly dodged the tip of a bandit’s sword. She grinned cheekily at him and he scowled at her. He launched himself towards her petite figure, however she was prepared. Sidestepping, her silver dagger caught a flicker of light from the moon – blinding them long enough for her to stab them into their eyes.

The man grunted, falling to his knees before she kneed him hard.

The dagger in her hand shook slightly as she plunged it into his neck. She mentally prepped herself as another mercenary ran towards her.

Robyn knew she had to keep her emotions in check and yet sensing then seeing Sparrow only a few feet away; slicing clean through a villager nearly made that impossible. She was still furious at them for selling them out – especially after their payment agendas had been arranged.

Accustomed to being quick on her feet, Robyn deftly ducked a sword’s oncoming blow seconds before it could find her head. She feinted right and dug her dagger into the side of the mercenary’s face the moment an opportunity had made itself.

He cried out and she yanked her dagger noisily back before placing the weight on her front leg to shove him back. He fell without much resistance and she tore through his flesh, watching as his body fell lifelessly on top another.

Magic sizzled in her skin – seeking, aching for release as she buried her dagger through their skulls. She concentrated on ignoring its lull. It was difficult – focusing on that and on the present. But she gritted her teeth through it, and before long her mind was no longer trying to remember the familiar lingering spells she often used.

Maxwell’s rapier sailed through the air, like an instrument of death it played its deadly song before driving itself through the hearts and appendages of its enemies. It was almost like a dance in itself, a dance that needed no partner apart from the person wielding its sword, effortlessly hacking through a crowd of enemies.

The rapier fell back from the sky into Maxwell’s waiting hand as he slid and caught it between two heavily wounded mercenaries. He ended their lives quickly, jerking his wrist upright enough for the sword to break through their skin.

He a felt brief sense of guilt when he heard their cries of anguish but this was not the first, nor would it be the last of their troubles. And he had to remind himself that every flicker of guilt as he met their horrified expressions – was nothing compared to the people they killed for someone else. They had a lot of deaths on their hands, and it was time for them to answer for their crimes.

Maxwell kept one hand behind his back as another man launched himself at him and sorely missed. “HA!” He cried out in triumph.

He could not celebrate for long as he ducked in the nick of time, Owen’s sword as the larger man lumbered in his surrounding area; knocking down several mercenaries from reaching the villagers. “Yaaaaaargggg!” The larger man yelled; blood sailing through the air from the sides of his weapon.

Heavens. Maxwell thought, shaking his head before returning his attention at felling another mercenary. It was out of his knowledge why Drake had been so concerned with the blacksmith, from where he was standing – he needed to worry about keeping himself safe. With that blasted man swinging his sword around, he wasn’t sure anyone should be worried for him.

Sparrow weaved through people effortlessly and Robyn watched in quiet horror as the numbers on their side dwindled significantly. There were only five of them left – no – four as she watched another figure sag to their knees once Sparrow was done with them.

A pair of desperate screams made Robyn freeze in recognition. Maxwell and Owen were having difficulty too. Although she could not see them directly from the huddled bodies and splatter of blood and limbs; the number of villagers still holding onto their weapons and jerking them at the invaders kept dwindling by the second.

Heavens, Robyn swore.

If they were going to have any chances of winning – Sparrow had to be dealt with. There was no way around getting her removed from their list. Knowing they were the better fighter, though Robyn sidestepped at the mercenary to launch herself at Sparrow’s back.

At the last second, Sparrow’s body froze and they turned to meet Robyn’s attack head on. They lifted their arms and sidestepped her oncoming assailment and Robyn couldn’t stop herself in time. Her feet tittered and her arms flayed out in front of her as she felt a sharp pain in her side.

She dug her heels into the ground in order to stop herself from falling completely on her face, and instead whirled around fast enough to meet Sparrow’s blade with her own.

“Not fast enough little robin.” Sparrow cooed. Their eyes were wide, and their smirk almost a sneer.

“How could you?” Her own voice was lost all its calm, almost on the brink of frigidness. “How could you be apart of this?”

They ignored her.

“I know you are not above backstabbing – but this. Helping Neville to destroy all of this – I did not think you were be capable of such things.”

Sparrow snorted, switching her stance and deftly passing through Robyn’s guard. Their dagger sliced into her forearm and Robyn winced but bit her lip hard to prevent the scream that burned her throat. “Every one looks out for themselves, that is human nature.”  

“What about helping people?” Robyn winced again. She could feel something wet to her side but she didn’t care. Shoving her back, she glared. “That is human nature too.”

Sparrow scoffed. “Oh, the lies you tell yourself little robin.” They tasked. “You’re nothing like that. You’re like me.”

“I am nothing like you!”

“Always vanishing without a trace?” They prompted, edging closer. “Never letting anyone in long enough? Face it, we’re on the same side of any coin. You just won’t admit it to yourself.”

“I –” Robyn fumbled to answer. “That isn’t –”

“You may have these people fooled, but I know the real Robyn – hidden under it all. You’re just as selfish and terrible as I am.”

Maybe Sparrow was right. Maybe she was hanging too long around people that didn’t understand her. Maybe she was deluding herself into thinking this was her – someone who cared for other people. Maybe she –

No.

Suddenly standing in the middle of this field, clutching the dagger close to her chest, Robyn could remember Cynthia’s word striking true to her heart. She wouldn’t be that type of person anymore, she wouldn’t become Sparrow.

Robyn’s expression softened while Sparrow’s had grown harder. “It isn’t too late.”

Sparrow’s face fell and for a few split seconds she could see the person before they became Sparrow. A vulnerability that used to be them before the world taught them there was no black and white – only grey. And then it was gone. The mask was back in place as Sparrow took another threatening step forward. “Then die with the rest of them.”

They moved very quickly, as though they were soaring through the air instead of jumping towards her. They had almost become a blur, and Robyn managed to barely spot them in time for their dagger to sail through the air.

She met their blade with her own again until Sparrow swiped her feet from under her. “Ugh,” she cried out in pain once her back hit the harsh ground. Sparks of pain had traveled to her spine and she almost had lost her head rolling in the opposite direction of them.

“I am almost going to miss you.” Sparrow cocked their head to the side. Ignoring the chaos around them, they stalked towards her. “Almost.”

“You don’t have to do this Sparrow, you could cut ties from Neville.” Robyn implored her, scrambling to get to her feet. “You could start over.”

Their cruel smile grew. “An assassin is only as good as their word.”

Robyn’s stomach dropped. Fear gnawed at her stomach; made it hard for her to breathe past the pain stinging from her ribcage. She clutched her side for a moment as her fear rose with every breath until it had finally overwhelmed her.

She could hear it. Bells inside her ears, buzzing loudly and with such intent to replace her fear. She didn’t think – she simply listened to the whispers, she reacted. Her arms braced themselves in front of her and she tasted magic in the air.

Her fingers sparked to life.

Her knees threatened to buckle as magic coursed through her veins, flooding and pumping through her very being with the resolute power to stop Sparrow. Words that weren’t English had been clear as day inside her mind and she spoke them without hesitance – but they weren’t her. The words that had strung itself together were something otherworldly powerful. It was almost too much to hold onto, and the urge to consume it all had been well within her reach.

Before Sparrow could reach her, they fell to their feet screaming. Their hood was whipped back as though a gust of wind had struck them. But it was Robyn’s magic pouring through that staggered the assassin, and their eyes casted upwards while they collapsed to the ground. Their pale skin appeared feverish, and veins that were usually green had grown into a dark colour – pulsating with every passing second as a horrifying sickening noise escaped their throat.

But Robyn did not care.

Magic kept coming, kept pouring. It was fueled by her desire to make Sparrow pay – and she tapped into her reserves to until she had sunk to her knees. She kept feeding the spell with energy and watched as blood begun trailing out of Sparrow’s nose. She watched as their cries became horrifying screams and their ankles bent out of shape when they tried to stand.

“You do not deserve to live.”

The words came from her – but were they her?

The power she felt was electrifying – better than anything she had done before – better than anything she had felt before. Her own knees finally gave out, and she sunk inside the grass when her vision finally blurred and dimmed. She tasted her own blood, pouring towards her lip before she finally ended he spell; sinking heavily into the grass as Sparrow fell unconscious.

Robyn couldn’t tell if they were still alive, but she had done her part. Sparrow was out of the fight and by the looks of it – they were finally turning the tide in their favor.

-

As Drake cut the last mercenary that came at him by his feet, his eyes had automatically sought her. It was not something he had been aware of at first, and yet over the course of fighting; his mind had not been entirely able to focus. The stubborn mage had been plaguing his mind with worry.

He hated that he was worried. He hated that he hated it. It was confusing for him, but it was not the first time he looked for her – only to shake his head free of such thoughts. It was annoying him more than anything. It was distracting him, had caused two men to slice his shirt at the sides and now there were holes in them.

However, this was the first time he had completely lost sight of her.

And for a moment, panic had flared through his chest. Panic he couldn’t understand for someone he barely knew – but he couldn’t deny its existence. He needed to find her.

The sudden urge had nearly become a need in order to ensure her safety.

He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter as he shoved through the bodies of fallen men and women – hoping that she would not be among them.

Drake knew the smarter decision was to find Maxwell and Owen – they would need his assistance to cut off the rest of the mercenaries from taking Willesden, yet his mind kept foolishly searching for her – for any sign of her dark unruly hair beneath her red cloak.

His feet halted. He spotted her– center field with Sparrow fighting. He hadn’t known a fear like the one he currently had was capable of freezing him at this spot.

Yet it did and he wondered as they danced circles around each other if he should interfere. He had convinced himself to within seconds until apprehension at the sudden expression in Robyn’s eyes made his stomach shudder. She was going to use magic.

He saw the flare of magic – saw how much raw power Robyn possessed and it was nearly too bright to watch. Her hair had picked up, and Sparrow begun screaming – pain and fear mingling altogether. It was a true taste of fear that had almost staggered him to the ground.

He had never seen such raw power before – even the mages that had attacked Cordonia had taken sometime to affect him before kidnapping the Prince. But this…this was unprecedented. This was terrifying.

Her eyes had shone in that blazing amber gold so fiercely, that he swore they were almost too painful to look at. And Sparrow had almost withered away into nothing until Robyn had suddenly collapsed, falling immediately to her knees.

For a moment all Drake could do was stare, stare in shock, in fear – in awe. It was like watching a blazing star reaching supernova – and now that it was all over, he did not know how to feel. He did not know how to react either.

He was going to turn away, when he realized she wasn’t moving from her spot. Trying to compel himself to move, he ensured the area around her was safe enough for him to cross.

-

Robyn hadn’t heard him. Her ears were still ringing dully until she felt a hand helping her to her feet. Her first instinct was to shove the stranger away, but she had felt too weak to even manage that. Instead, she stared helplessly up at familiar face. “..Drake?” She called out weakly.

She had anticipated the flash of fear in his eyes – of hate even, if he had witnessed what she had done she expected him to run his sword right through her. She was – on all accounts, a dangerous mage.

And yet, he did not. Much to her surprise, he kept his good arm around her in order to keep her upright. “I’ve got you,” he mumbled quietly, not quite meeting her gaze. But she had already seen it – the unfamiliar look of softness before he hardened his expression. Was he concerned for me?

She couldn’t wrap her head around that. She was much too exhausted to even examine anything any further. “The fighting….” She mumbled.

“Most of it is done,” Drake’s jaw was tense. “I caught sight of Maxwell and Owen snuffing out the few that were left.”

“I guess our number advantage really worked in our favour, huh?” She had meant that as a joke but the knight hadn’t as much as cracked a smile.

He frowned. “We still lost a good amount of people,” he drifted his eyes towards Sparrow. “Are they –”

“Unconscious.” Robyn murmured, feeling his shoulders grow stiff as soon as he asked. “I think we should probably tie them up though – just in case.”

“Ah.”

She didn’t know if she should be insulted by the sound of relief inside his voice. “I’m not a killer Drake, I never have been.” She snapped defensively.

Something passed through his eyes, something she couldn’t describe before he clenched his jaw again. She winced when she felt his warm hand by her side.

A crease formed at his brow. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ve seen…worse.” She could barely manage a semblance of a sentence. Why was it suddenly so difficult for her to speak? Her words were turning into mush, her knees growing weak again until she was having trouble standing altogether. “What-what’s…”

“You’re all out of adrenaline.” Drake said the words softly, as he scooped her into his arms. He had done so without thinking, but he scarcely convinced himself it would be easier than dragging her back.  “Just fumes now.”

“I-I’m fine, I just need –” But she couldn’t finish her thought; her world was already closing – drowning towards the edge of the abyss. She blinked rapidly. “I just need a good nap.”

“I think you’ve lost too much blood.” And yet, there was a hint of a smile in his voice that had her glancing sleepily to meet his expression.

His eyes were soft again and this time she was able to place what she saw. Tenderness. Concern. With a jolt, she understood that he cared about her – or at least, he cared enough to find her.

Drake’s throat had gone dry. A sudden lump had been where it had not been before. Look away, Walker. Look away. Yet, he could not.

He knew better than to linger too long on Robyn’s face, because despite the cuts and bruises, the dried blood – she was….she was a welcoming sight. And the longer he stared, the less sense his world made. She was shifting it. And he was terrified what would happen when he could no longer recognize it.

Yet he did not look away, did not stop himself from cupping her cheek to prove to himself she was truly here – and not under the bodies of the dead. And when she turned her face automatically to nuzzle into his hand, his throat ached.

The abrupt cheers ringing through out the hilltop had caused him to nearly drop her entirely.

Robyn placed a steady hand on his arm, and together they turned to stare at the remainder of villagers still alive a little down below; clutching one another for support – crying in triumph and laughter despite the loss of their fallen comrades.

“We won.” Drake couldn’t believe the words as he said them himself. “We won.” He repeated, grinning in disbelief. He glanced down excitedly– only to find the woman inside his arms to be fast asleep. Hugging her a little closer to his body, he slowly made his way down the hill.

While battle for Willesden was over, the knight knew this was just the beginning. Their true battle would never be over so long as Neville was alive and his hands of cruelty kept overshadowing them.

-

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at a desk in the Mi-Soul office, fully-dressed, I’m afraid to say, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday!

First of all, I am alive. Yesterday: up at 4.00 a.m. Willesden Junction to Deptford Bridge. Three hours of live radio. Deptford Bridge to Highbury & Islington. Four hours of teaching. Highbury & Islington to Willesden Junction. Home just after 8.15 p.m. And here I am again! Hope you can join me at 7.00am for Mi-Breakfast? It’s ticket Tuesday! Giving away a pair of tickets to the Margate Soul Festival.

France is the most visited country in the world (90m), followed by Spain (83.7m) and The U.S.A. (79.3m) People from countries in the EU have no problem visiting France every year. The U.K. sits in 10th (39.4m).

A Nova Scotia man, Lorne Grabher, fought a court battle to prove his personalised license plate - which had his surname on it - didn’t incite sexual violence. He lost.

Kobalt is pulling its 700,000 songs off Facebook and Instagram.

Before having their chests cut open and their hearts pulled out, Aztec human-sacrifice victims were given a cup of hot chocolate.

Shops in France will be ordered to close doors when using air conditioning and limit neon lighting in a bid to cut energy waste, a minister has said. These rules, already in place in some areas, will be rolled out across France, Minister of Ecological Transition Agnes Pannier-Runacher told the Journal du Dimanche newspaper. Energy costs in Europe have spiralled since the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Shops will be fined up to €750 (£640) for breaking the air-conditioning rule. Leaving doors open when air conditioning is on is "absurd", Ms Pannier-Runacher told local radio station RMC.

Very sadly, actor David Warner died yesterday. He was in great movies: ‘Morgan: A Suitable Case For Treatment’ (1966), ‘Time Bandits’ (1981), ‘Tron’ (1982) and ‘The Man With Two Brains’ (1983).

The person who named the drug ‘ecstasy’ thought that the name ‘empathy’ would have been more appropriate, but decided that not too many people knew what it meant.

In 1719, prisoners in Paris were offered freedom as long as they were willing to marry a prostitute and move to Louisiana.

There are giant tunnels underneath Tokyo protecting it from floods.

Bad Bunny’s 'Un Verano Sin Ti' is the first album – since Adele’s ‘25��� - to sell over 100,000 units in the U.S. in each of its first eleven weeks of release.

A 2013 study determined that Viagra is an extremely effective treatment for painful menstruation. However, the review panel determined that cramps were not a public health priority and refused further funding.

In 2005, one in five people admitted to taking Derbisol, a drug that doesn’t exist.

Nintendo promoted the term "videogame console" so that people would stop calling rival products "Nintendos" and they could protect their trademark.

In 1941, a Russian woman, Mariya Oktyabrskaya, lost her husband when he was killed by the Nazis during WWII. In response, she sold all her possessions and bought herself a tank. After naming it "Fighting Girlfriend" she set out hunting and killing Nazis on the Eastern Front.

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Thanks for reading all the way to the bottom of my status. Many people don’t like reading. It’s too much hard work. So, I thank you for giving me five minutes of your day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

[chiddicksfamilytree]

This is the fifth in my new series of blogs, telling the life stories of my 2 x Great Grand parents and next up is Joseph Keyes, the ninth child of eleven children, born to Joseph Keyes (Senior) and Hannah (Anna) Maria King.

Joseph Keyes was born 12th January 1852 in Prittlewell, Essex and he was baptised on 8th February 1852 at St. Mary the Virgin Parish Church, Prittlewell, in Essex. The families residence at the time is stated as being in Prittlewell and Joseph’s Father, Joseph Senior, is listed as a Labourer.

(St Mary the Virgin Church, Prittlewell)

1861 Census

The first record that we find young Joseph on, after his birth, is the 1861 Census and here we find Joseph, aged 9, listed as a scholar and living at home with both his parents and five of his siblings, George aged 17, Emma aged 14, Anna Maria aged 11, Ellen Betsy aged 7 and Sarah Ann aged 4. The family home is East Street in Prittlewell.

(Images of East Street, Prittlewell kindly supplied by Hilary Scott)

1871 Census

By the time of the 1871 Census, Joseph Keyes has left school and is employed as an Agricultural Labourer, which is noted in the census details for the family. He is still living at home with the family, still in East Street, Prittlewell, at home are both his parents, Jospeh Senior and Ann Keyes, but all of his siblings have moved away from the family home, so to utilise the extra space in the family home, Joseph Senior has taken in three boarders, who are also counted on the 1871 Census.

Between 1871 and 1881, our Joseph meets his bride to be, Elizabeth Bishop and they marry on 17th October 1874 at the Grays Parish Church (actually in the Church that I myself was baptised in!).

(Grays Parish Church)

Joseph is listed as a Bachelor and Labourer and his place of residence is listed as Grays Thurrock.

(Actual Parish Register entries for the Marriage)

On 9th September 1875, Joseph and Elizabeth have their first child, my Great-grandmother, Caroline Rosina Keyes and at the time of her birth, Joseph was employed as a Plate Layer for the Railways, which had just started to reach the outlying County of Essex.

There a couple of links here that give an insight into the role of a Plate Layer and the type of work that this involved.

Platelayer

Platelayers Society

1881 Census

By the time of the 1881 Census, Joseph Keyes and his Wife Elizabeth are living at 18, Chapel Row, Grays in Essex and by this time they have three children, Caroline Rosina (My Great-Grandmother) aged 5, Clara Elizabeth aged 3, and William Henry aged 1. Joseph’s occupation is a Labourer at the Cement Works which was a large Employer at the time, it was one of the major industries in Thurrock. Joseph’s future son-in-law, William Chiddicks was to also be employed in the Cement Industry in Grays.

The following images were kindly donated by Dylan Moore from his wonderful historic site of cement kiln works in the UK.

  Cement Kilns UK Website

The landscape of Thurrock was an ideal ground for the Cement Industry, one of the key ingredients in the mass production of Portland Cement, being Chalk, which was abundantly available in Thurrock. Mass excavations of Chalk Quarries blighted the landscape of Thurrock, as Industry thrived during the period at the turn of the 19th Century.

In the early years of the 20th Century, the banks of The River Thames, between Purfleet and Grays, were lined with wharves, cement works and lime kilns. Beyond the banks was a stark industrial landscape of quarries, tall chimneys, railways tracks and rolling stock. The Wouldham Cement Company alone, had five massive chimneys that were an unmistakable landmark along the River.

Between the two centuries, after the invention of Portland Cement, with the ready availability of chalk, Thurrock became an ideal location for Cement Works and Company after Company set up their businesses in Thurrock and they became one of the biggest employers in the area at that time.

1891 Census

The next record that we find for Joseph Keyes is the 1891 Census and the family have moved to 26, Prospect Row, in Grays and Joseph is living at home with his Wife Elizabeth and five children, Caroline Rosina aged 15, William Henry aged 11, Albert George aged 6, Rose Amelia aged 5 and Alice Maud aged 4. Jospeh’s occupation is listed as a Labourer Cement Works.

1901 Census

Between 1891 and 1901, Joseph and Elizabeth have two more children, Harry Joseph Keyes born in 1891 and Bertie James Keyes born in 1896 and the family are still living at 26, Prospect Place in Grays, with six of their children still living at home. Joseph’s occupation is still  a Labourer in the Cement works.

1911 Census

By 1911 Joseph and his family have moved to 57, Stanley Road in Grays and Joseph’s occupation has changed slightly as he is now listed as a Night Watchman at the Cement works. Jospeh is at home with his Wife Elizabeth and their four Sons, one of whom, Harry Joseph Keyes is following in his Father’s footsteps and working as a Cement Labourer.

The advent of The First World War was just around the corner for Joseph and his family and like millions of other families across the Country the Keyes family felt the full consequences of War. Three of the Keyes boys went off to War, but sadly only two of the boys returned. Albert George Keyes served with the 2/8th Essex Cyclists and survived the War, Bertie James Keyes was in the RAF and survived the War, but sadly Harry Joseph Keyes lost his life at Passchendaele (3rd Battle of Ypres) on 9th October 1917. One can never imagine the impact that the loss of a Son would have on a family and the consequences, but less than one month later, Joseph’s wife Elizabeth was to sadly pass away. So within one Month Joseph was to lose a Son to the ravages of War followed so soon by his own Wife.

Harry Joseph’s War story can be found Here

Six years after the Death of his Wife,  Joseph Keyes sadly passed away himself, on 20th November 1923, at the age of 71.

He died from Senile Decay and Bronchitis and was listed as living at 37, Hartland Road, Willesden, in Kilburn, London. Present at his Death was his Son Bertie James Keyes of 7, Sherfield Road, Grays, Essex. Joseph is buried at Buried at Grays New Cemetery, Grave Number 1056, Section 3.

  The Life and Times of Joseph Keyes This is the fifth in my new series of blogs, telling the life stories of my 2 x Great Grand parents and next up is Joseph Keyes, the ninth child of eleven children, born to Joseph Keyes (Senior) and Hannah (Anna) Maria King.

[megamikethomson]

Hogarth at Pitzhanger: Craftsman Faisal Abdu'Allah on trimming hair at new display about existence in London

An individual standing posturing for the camera © Gave before supper Standard

Ceci n'est pas un hair style. From one perspective, Petter 's Beauty Salons are perhaps the best trim around (likewise, free), and recognizable region: the hair stylist's seat, the spreading out of the cape, the laugh nibble of scissors.

However instead of a dependable mirror to watch out for my hairline's advancement there's a little, good natured yet in any case perceptible crowd; a hurling barbershop has offered approach to Sir John Soane's Evaluation I-recorded Pitzhanger House and Display in Ealing; the standard amassing of high contrast headshots of Hollywood a to z listers is supplanted by William Hogarth's eighteenth century perfect work of art A Rake's Advancement, which, albeit tastefully all the more intriguing, is determinedly sparser on top #inspo

.

The gathering show, Hogarth: London Voices, London Lives, underpins Pitzhanger's get-together with Hogarth's ironical arrangement, which was possessed by Soane and hung at the house during his lifetime and now comes back to the structure without precedent for over 200 years. It portrays the social states of London in 1732, an accomplishment the show embarks to coordinate for 2020. Ruth Ewen's lovely woodblock banners are a brilliant tribute to Hogarth's humorous eye, while document film of Southbank skateboarders talks more to the city's contemporary foam.

Be that as it may, Petter's work is the primary (mane?) occasion — a genuine hair style in a real hairdresser's seat. A partner educator of Craftsmanship and Personnel Executive of UW-Madison's Imaginative Expressions People group, Imperial School of Expressions graduate, and — reassuringly — achieved stylist with over 30 years of experience, Petter, 50, has flown in from Wisconsin, where he instructs, hours before he and I meet.

"Be that as it may, I can do this with my eyes shut," he says, weaving his bell easily through a couple of free ginger strands. Kindly don't do it with your eyes shut, I state. He won't have each Beauty Salons during the display's run, however he will have this one. Is it craftsmanship? Who is the watcher, and who is the subject? "To me, it's simply design, yet live figure," he says, which causes me to feel similar to human topiary. A 'preceding' polaroid is snapped: everybody who partakes will have theirs shown during the display, nearby Petter's' striking tintype photos of his instruments (scissors, razor heads, brushes).

Considerably more so than most hair stylists I've met, petter is a man skilled with incredible magnetism, which is helpful in numerous specific situations, yet particularly this one.

a gathering of individuals remaining before a group modeling for the camera: Evolving times: The Rake's Advancement VI – The Gaming House, William Hogarth © Gave before sun-down Standard Evolving times: The Rake's Advancement VI – The Gaming House, William Hogarth

He says he battled introducing himself one path at the RCA — all conversations of Jacques Derrida and Michel Foucault, as "the main person who appeared as though me in my scholastic year" — and another in the Saturday work he took at a stylist's in Willesden to help himself.  and I'm going to record it, as a list of these occasions, in my work, so it can remain around in ceaselessness." Which, from multiple points of view, is actually what Hogarth was attempting to do.

Petter, whose father was a minister, considers the to be as an "entry", and the go about as a "laying on of hands". There is a religious component to the 45 minutes we spend together: I feel more settled, obsessed about, and on occasion it resembles an admission is being prodded from me. It is additionally an assistance, obviously: previously, I have a scraggly neck facial hair and an unkempt shortcrop — a while later I am very much prepped. "A hair style is social critique,".

Workmanship should continually rework itself, he calls attention to. As a 15-year-old meandering around the National Picture Exhibition, he searched for similarities to himself in the work.Gracious, I'm in chains." Right now, is ace expert, auteur and stone carver. I leave with a fantastic hair style, and a ton to consider. I'm a genuine bit of work.

Pitzhanger Estate and Workmanship Exhibition has incidentally shut, in accordance with counsel from General Wellbeing Britain. Visit pitzhanger.org.uk or follow via web-based networking media @Beauty Salons for refreshes on reviving.

[heroofthelostones-blog]

Chapter 5: Some Messages and entering Willesden Town!

❀Dakota❀

I woke up before the other three boys. Well, I woke up with Kota and Yuu cuddled against my stomach as I was practically curled into a ball. Pushing away from them and stretching look over at Sariel. He’s sleeping on his side facing us his wings were spread out behind him. This is the most relaxed I've seen him since I've met him. I’m glad I could actually get him to relax.

His eyes flutter open and with his eyelids half open he sits up. There’s some drool on the corner of his mouth and he looks around, “Morning,” I greet my voice being Kota’s instead of my own.

“Morning,” He said back and cracked his back and shoulders.

“You still sore? Do you need me to get any knots out?” I ask concerned that he loudly cracked.

“Oh no, I’m still quite loose, it’s just a part of my routine in the morning,” He answered rubbing his face.

“You sure?” then I head a small meow and look down. Yuu is stretching with his little butt in this air and Kota is laying and stretching his legs at the same time.  “Morning you two.”

“Morning,” Yuu squeaked in his higher pitched voice before poofing into his human form.

Kota and I did our routine where I changed him and then he changed me, “Dakota, Dakota,” Yuu sprang up and almost tackled me.

"Yes, Yuu?" I asked curiously.

“How did you make Sariel super relaxed like that?” He asked as Sariel pulled Yuu off me so I could sit up again.

"I just gave him a message and got some knots out of his back," I explained.

“Can you do me? That sounds really good!!” Yuu smiled wiggling his way out of Sariel’s grasp.

“Um…sure,” I look between Kota and Sariel to make sure it’s okay.

“We don’t have any missions to complete so I think we can take a small break for Yuu to get a message if he wants," Kota answered.

“Good, because you’re going first,” Yuu jumped over to Kota and tackled him to the ground. They wrestled and Kota ended up pinned on the ground.

"Wait for what? No, I'm not letting her use creepy whatever she did to Sariel," Kota protests and struggles.

I look up when Sariel sighs and crosses his arms, "It's not creepy. It is strange, yes, but it helps you relax and gets rid of aches and pains.”

“Just let her do it!!” Yuu motioned for me to come over and he got the struggling Kota’s top off and flipped him over. I made my way over and sit on his hips.

“It’s not going to hurt, I promise,” I smile as his tail hits my back.

I started massaging his back and finding knots. Working them out. Working my way around his back and when I think I have all the knots out I place one hand between his shoulder blades than the other just above his tailbone. "I need you to take a deep breath and hold it until I tell you."

“Fine,” He sighs and he does as he’s told. I have him hold his breath for a few seconds.

“Okay, exhale,” He does as I said and I press down on the two points of his back and a loud crack comes from his back and vibrates my arms. His entire body relaxes and all of a sudden poofs under me and he’s back in his fox form sprawled out. I start giggling as he doesn’t move from his spot.

“I don’t know how I feel so relaxed right now,” He sighs happily and stays there a few more minutes before I poof him back into his human form. Once we got him back up to his feet and he stretched, Yuu happily laid down on the ground with his shirt off and he let me get to work.

“I swear it’s some form of magic that you are able to do that,” Kota commented and I glance up at him to see him rolling his shoulder.

"It's not magic. It's just a message. My parents originally wanted me to go to college to be a chiropractor, but that didn't happen," I chuckle as I put my palm on Yuu's shoulder and then placed the heel of my other hand in the same location and worked on the next knot.

“What is a chiropractor?” Sariel asked and I look up at him.

“A chiropractor is someone who treats misalignments in the joints. So, say you have a pain in your hip and one of your legs is slightly shorter than the other when it normally isn’t, then your back needs to be realigned. That’s the kinda stuff a chiropractor does,” I explain to them.

“That’s so strange, then how would you go about realigning the back?”

“I’m not too sure how they do it, but there are a bunch of different techniques and whatnot that you have to learn, but what I do is nowhere near what a professional can do.” I work on the third knot. I keep working around Yuu’s body finding knots, “How often do you actually stretch Yuu? You have so many knots I don’t know how you aren’t stiff as a board.”

"Hmmmm....I really only stretch if I’m in my cat form, other than that I don't do it often,” He answered simply and I sigh a bit.

“No wonder you have so many knots,” I run my hands up his spine and end up placing both hands in the same spots I did with Kota. “Take a breath and hold it.” He did what I told him, “And exhale.” He did what I was told and then I pressed down and there was a loud crack from his back. He relaxed the same way that Kota did, but he sadly didn’t change into his very adorable cat form.

“Oooohhh, yeah,” Yuu sighed in relief.

The three of us chuckled. “I’m glad that you feel better,” I got up off him and after a few moments we helped him back up to his feet and he got his shirt back on.

“Thank you!!! That was amazing,” He bent back a bit more and stretched a bit more before we finished packing up and left.

“Come to think of it…did the queen tell us where we have to go?” I ask the three boys.

They all stop walking so I stop as well, “I don’t think we were told, now that I think about it.”

“Um…Sariel, is there any way you can contact your queen and ask her where we need to go? We don’t even know what kingdom Dakota’s body is in,” Kota sighed.

He stood there and thought about it and then gave a soft “Uuuuuuhhhhh.”

“It’s okay, we’ll just go to the next town and see if we can’t find any rumors on anything,” I offer.

“It would be better than backtracking," Kota points out. “Let’s go to the next town.”

With that, the four of us started towards the next town. We took a break now and then and stopped to make food. It took s two days to make it to the next town. “What’s this town called?” I ask.

"Willesden. It’s one of the more busier towns. It’s where a lot of trading goes on. It’s kinda a border town between the angle domain and the centaur race,” Yuu explained.

“Oh!” I chirp up, “So, is like the town split in half for the culture? Or does it intermingle?”

“It intermingles, but here is a really good way to find some information,” Kota smirks at me and puts an around Yuu’s shoulder.

“We’ll go restock on herbs and other ingredients I need along with trying to figure out some info, would you two be willing to go restock on food, flint, and what else may be needed that you can think of,” Yuu asked us.

“Also, if you two happen to come by any interesting quests that we can do while were around this area don’t be afraid to pick it up,” Kota smirked at us. “Especially if it has a fair bit of Rubies as the reward. Or you know something that we may need for the trip.”

“But we don’t even know where we’re going,” I point out to him again.

"Who knows, even if we don't get any information in this town, maybe your soul will be like a little radar and we'll be able to find your body that way," Kota mentioned and I sigh.

"Where would you like to meet up there after we get our supplies?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

“I’m thinking The Bright Moon Inn, Sariel, do you know where that is?” Yuu questions and I look over at Sariel and see him nod, “Awesome!! Then let’s meet there at dusk. That way we can discuss what we found out and what quests we’ll be doing over dinner and a good night’s rest that doesn’t involve the occasional rock in your back.”

“Sounds good to me,” I smile at him.

“We can do that,” Sariel also agrees and then I look up at him as he looks down at me, “Shall we get going then?”

I nod and smile at him, “Sounds good to me.” I slide over next to him and wave at Kota and Yuu, “We’ll see you two at dusk! Good luck getting your half of the supplies.”

“We’ve got this covered. Good luck on your end,” Yuu laughs and then Kota and Yuu turn around and head in the opposite direction.

Sariel and I start in the other direction from Yuu and Kota and I can't help but look around at all the amazing new sights and see so many different races, "Dakota," I snap to attention when I hear Sariel call me. He got ahead of me.

“Ah! S-Sorry,” I weave through people to get back over to him.

“Give me your hand, I don’t want to lose you in this town,” I saw the slightest blush spread across his cheeks as he held out his hand to me.

I giggle a little and take his hand, “It’s probably for the best.” I take his hand and grab his forearm lightly with my other hand. We then make our way through the crowd together to head to the first store for supplies.

«❀»❀«❀»❀«❀»❀«❀»

»Kota«

Yuu and I walked away from Sariel and Dakota, “Is it a good idea to leave them alone, with what happened yesterday and all?” Yuu mentioned as I look over at him and smile.

“I think that they’ll be just fine. Sariel is probably on high alert because of yesterday and it’s always a good way for him to be able to redeem himself if something does happen,” I mention, “Besides he was training to be a battle angle, he’s more than capable to protect her.”

“True,” Yuu said still sounding a bit worried, “Come on Yuu, let’s go check out the bulletin first and see if there aren’t any quick jobs that we could do before meeting back up with angle boy and body snatcher,” I chuckle.

“We can do that. I don’t have to get too much and we’ll only have to go to one or two shops at most.” Yuu smiled back at me and I grinned.

“Then let’s go!!” I point forward and the two of us weave ourselves through the crowd and make it to the bulletin board that is in the town square. It’s a rather large board that’s covered with a roof for when it rains. There’s a wide range of quests that are on these boards. Almost every town that we’ve been to have had these boards.

“Oh, here’s a quick one,” I look over at Yuu as he pulls a piece of paper down, “I know exactly where we can find this.” I nod and go back to looking at the board.

“Oh, hey, this one is in the same area as that one,” I pull down a piece of paper. This quest was to get one dozen fresh bamboo branches from the Lulon forest.

"Lulon forest, that's about a ten-minute walk from the stream we have to go to for the cattails. Looks like it's by the same person too. Along with three hundred Rubies between the both of them. Not bad, should definitely cover what we need to get on top of a room for the night." I look at Yuu and we both nod taking the papers we go to the local tea shop that the bottom of both papers say to go. The tea shop was somewhat empty, only a few people in enjoying tea. We go up to the counter where a man around our age is standing at the counter.

“Good morning sir, we saw these two quests on the board in the town park, we were wondering if you knew who posted them by any chance,” I ask placing the two sheets of paper on the counter.

“Why yes, I was the one who posted them yesterday evening. I’m pleased to see them picked up so soon,” The man smiled at the two of us.

“We would like to take care of these for you if that’s alright,” Yuu returned his smile.

“Of course! It would be a great help. My wife has been away so I can’t get the time to go and run those two errands myself. Thank you so much for the help.”

“We’ll head out then,” I nod happily.

“When you come back with the bamboo you can bring it to the back of the shop, please and thank you.”

The two of us head out towards the west exit of the city. We passed the stream where the cattails were located and went straight to Lulon forest. This side of the forest is a heavy bamboo thicket. Even though we could just cut right from the beginning of the thicket we weave our way in a little ways in so we can find green bamboo and chop them down. Once we had the dozen of bamboo reeds cut down and successfully moved them out of the thicket we split the load and went back to the river. There we find the cattails, considering we weren't given a specific amount we grab one dozen of those and then we make our way back. We stop every now and again so I can feel my arms before picking up the bamboo again and continuing. We get back into town people move out of our way because of the bamboo. Making our way back to the teashop I go to the back while Yuu splits off and goes to the front to let the man know that we've returned. He's very pleased with what we bring back and hands over the reward money.

Thanking the man, we then head out to do our shopping. Just as we thought it only took two shops to obtain what Yuu needed and a couple of other herbs that we just figured why the heck not. “That was a nice, quick little quest,” I sigh happily as Yuu and I sit down just outside the dumpling shop with a small plate of dumplings and a cup of tea to share.

“Mhm, and we didn’t have to touch anything from our rubies that we brought with us,” Yuu agreed as I pick up a stick of three dumplings.

“Though, I haven’t heard anything of rumors wise yet,” I sigh a bit disappointed.

"Same, but at the same time, it's a good thing because it means that we're not being hunted just yet," My best friend points out as I look over at him with a dumpling in my mouth.

“True…” my voice muffled by the dumpling as I chew it. Swallowing before continuing, “If we have to stick to our animal forms for a few days then that’s what we have to do. Sariel and Dakota shouldn’t be targeted.”

"They will if people tell them they've been traveling with us," Yuu sighs and rubs the back of his head as I hold out the dumpling stick to him. He gingerly takes it from my fingers and holds it on his own.

“Hopefully it won’t come down to that. We both know what kinda trouble we get into, so we have two others to look after, but who knows, maybe having the two of them will help in the long run.” I offer as he takes the second dumpling off the stick and pops it into his mouth.

“Mhm,” Yuu hummed as he chewed.

I looked up at the sky and smiled, “You know, I still owe you for sticking up for me back in the angel’s domain. I know that the queen wasn’t listening, but I did and I really appreciate it. I want to make it up to you. So, whatever you want I’ll do.”

He finished the dumpling and swallowed. Staring at me with his ears back he started blushing and rubbed the back of his head with his spare hand, “Of course, I would! You’re my partner and you’re my best friend and I couldn’t do much of anything really…” He pouted a little.

I place a hand on his back and smiled softly at him, “The point is you tried and I want to give you something as a thank you for trying. Even if you can’t think of anything now just give it a thought and tell me when you want. Whatever you want, I’ll be happy to do.”

He set the dumpling down on the small plate and leaned against me as he pleased his hand on my lap, “Just be more careful next time okay?”

"I'll try my best, but that's not what I was talking about for whatever you want me to do. This is for you and to make you happy. Me trying to be more careful is something that I have to try to do anyway. Considering we now have muscle angel with us, I'm sure he's not going to really allow us to do anything reckless unless it's the last thing that can be done." I lean against him as well as we sit there and watch people go by, paying us no mind. "Just think about it okay? I know that I can't-do too much because I'm using magic to keep this form right now, but when I get my own body back, you better have something in mind by then, okay?" I chuckle.

Yuu turned his head to look away from me and laughed a bit, "You being safe, because of our conditions, will make me happy. And when you get your body back and you've been less cocky about everything maybe then we can do something about a reward for the both of us."

"Yuuuuuu," I whine and lean into him more, "But I wanna make you happy and feel loved before then. We don't know how long this is going to take." I flick my ears and shift myself a bit as I drop my ears back and stand up slightly so I can whisper in his ear. "And this time we won't be drunk, I'll be happy to pleasure you in whatever way you want." I whisper sexually into his ear before sitting back down and picking up the stick that had one dumpling left on it and pulled the dumpling off and ate it like I said nothing, "It's your call, though Yuu. I'll do whatever you want. You are the master." I said through a mouth full of dumpling.

I look at Yuu out of the corner of my eye and his ears were straight up and there was the rare stupid happy cat grin that he gets when something really good happens and then his face flushed a bright red and he quickly covers his face with his hands and falls off the bench that we're sitting on and starts to mumble things that I can't understand into his hands. I chuckle a bit and pick up the tea and take a sip of it. While you have that topic on your mind is there anything else that you would like to do before sundown? We could try to find another quick mission or walk around town and see if there’s anything new. It’s completely up to you.” I smile and set the cup down so I can get Yuu up off the ground.

[keepingupwiththeroyals]

Prince Harry: I sought counselling after death of mother led to two years of 'total chaos' in my twenties - exclusive Telegraph interview

Hannah Furness, royal correspondent 16 APRIL 2017 • 10:37PM Prince Harry has disclosed that he sought counselling after enduring two years of “total chaos�� while still struggling in his late twenties to come to terms with the death of his mother. The Prince says in an interview with The Telegraph that he “shut down all his emotions” for almost two decades after losing his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales, despite his brother, Prince William, trying to persuade him to seek help. Disclosing that he has spoken to a professional about his mental health, he describes how he only began to 
address his grief when he was 28 after feeling “on the verge of punching someone” and facing anxiety during royal engagements. Prince Harry speaks frankly about fighting his demons on the wake of his mother's death and how he finally sought professional help Prince Harry speaks frankly about fighting his demons on the wake of his mother's death and how he finally sought professional help CREDIT: GETTY IMAGES Describing the “quite serious effect” that losing his mother had on his personal and professional life, he tells how living in the public eye left him feeling he could be “very close to a complete breakdown on numerous occasions”. The Prince, now 32, turned to counsellors and even took up boxing. He says he is now in “a good place”. Prince Harry has decided to give an unprecedented insight into his past in the hope it will encourage people to break the stigma surrounding mental health issues. He has spoken to Bryony Gordon for the first episode of her podcast, Mad World, in which she will interview high-profile guests about their mental health experiences. Show more The 30-minute conversation is one of the most candid insights into the innermost thoughts of a modern young member of the Royal family. The Prince, together with his brother and sister-in-law, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, have set up Heads Together, a charity which promotes good mental well-being. Prince Harry, who was 12 when his mother died, says in the podcast that he spent his teenage years and twenties determined not to think about her. “I can safely say that losing my mum at the age of 12, and therefore shutting down all of my emotions for the last 20 years, has had a quite serious effect on not only my personal life but my work as well,” he said. Diana, Princess of Wales with Prince Harry who has said he regrets not opening up sooner about how his mother's death affected him Diana, Princess of Wales with Prince Harry who has said he regrets not opening up sooner about how his mother's death affected him “I have probably been very close to a complete breakdown on numerous occasions when all sorts of grief and sort of lies and misconceptions and everything are coming to you from every angle.” Asked whether he had been to see a 'shrink' to offload his thoughts, he said: “I’ve done that a couple of times, more than a couple of times, but it’s great.” The Prince admitted that at times he had struggled with aggression and turned to boxing as an outlet for his frustration. My way of dealing with it was sticking my head in the sand, refusing to ever think about my mum, because why would that help? “During those years I took up boxing, because everyone was saying boxing is good for you and it’s a really good way of letting out aggression,” he said. “And that really saved me because I was on the verge of punching someone, so being able to punch someone who had pads was certainly easier.” He eventually sought support with the encouragement of his brother and others close to him, who told him: “Look, you really need to deal with this. It is not normal to think that nothing has affected you.” Since learning to talk honestly about his feelings, he said, he now feels able to put “blood, sweat and tears” into making a difference for others. “The experience I have had is that once you start talking about it, you realise that actually you’re part of quite a big club,” he said. Later this year, the Prince and the Duke will commemorate the 20th anniversary of their mother’s death, commissioning a statue and presenting awards in her name to honour “kindness, compassion and service”. Prince Harry with a picture of his mother Princess Diana, with staff and users of The Running Charity, which is the UK's first running-orientated programme for homeless and vulnerable young people, in Willesden in north west London. Prince Harry with a picture of his mother Princess Diana, with staff and users of The Running Charity, which is the UK's first running-orientated programme for homeless and vulnerable young people, in Willesden in north west London. CREDIT: GEOFF PUGH Prince Harry said of his loss: “My way of dealing with it was sticking my head in the sand, refusing to ever think about my mum, because why would that help? “[I thought] it’s only going to make you sad, it’s not going to bring her back. “So from an emotional side, I was like ‘right, don’t ever let your emotions be part of anything’. “So I was a typical 20, 25, 28-year-old running around going ‘life is great’, or ‘life is fine’ and that was exactly it. “And then [I] started to have a few conversations and actually all of a sudden, all of this grief that I have never processed started to come to the 
forefront and I was like, there is actually a lot of stuff here that I need to deal with.” He said he now counts himself very lucky that it was “only two years … of total chaos” before he learnt how to talk about it. “I just couldn’t put my finger on it,” he said. “I just didn’t know what was wrong with me.” Even at royal engagements, he said, he had found himself battling a “flight or fight” reaction without properly 
understanding why. Once he started opening up to friends, he added, he found those same friends felt able to “unravel their own issues”. Dismissing previous speculation he may have suffered mental health issues because of his time in Afghanistan, he said he felt clear that coping with the death of his mother on a very public platform had the greatest impact. “I can safely say it’s not Afghanistan-related. I’m not one of those guys that has had to see my best mate blown up next to me and have to apply a tourniquet to both their legs. Luckily, thank God, I wasn’t one of those people.” Prince Harry said his work with the personnel recovery unit, where he listened to wounded, injured and sick servicemen and women talk about 
 serious mental health issues, had proved a turning point in his understanding. “I know there is huge merit in talking about your issues and the only thing about keeping it quiet is that it’s only ever going to make it worse,” he said. Prince Harry left the British Army in May 2015 after 10 years' service that saw him fight on the front line in Afghanistan twice “Not just for you but everybody else around you as well because you become a problem. I, through a lot of my twenties, was a problem and I didn’t know how to deal with it.” On eventually seeking help, the Prince said: “It’s all about timing. And for me personally, my brother, you know, bless him, he was a huge support to me. He kept saying this is not right, this is not normal, you need to talk to [someone] about stuff, it’s OK. “The timing wasn’t right. You need to feel it in yourself, you need to find the right person to talk to as well.” But he added: “I can’t encourage people enough to just have that conversation because you will be surprised firstly, how much support you get and secondly, how many people literally are longing for you to come out.” Confessing he was “a little nervous, a little tight in the chest” about the interview, the Prince said he was determined to make a difference while the younger members of the Royal family are “still interesting” to the public, doing his bit before Prince George, Princess Charlotte and any of his own future children step into the spotlight. My brother, you know, bless him, he was a huge support to me. He kept saying this is not right, this is not normal Of his current focus on mental health, he said: “What we are trying to do is normalise the conversation to the point where anyone can sit down and have a coffee and just go ‘you know what, I’ve had a really s--- day, can I just tell about it? Because then you walk away and it’s done.” He is now in a “good place”. “Because of the process I have been through over the past two and a half years, I’ve now been able to take my work seriously, been able to take my private life seriously as well, and been able to put blood, sweat and tears into the things that really make a difference and things that I think will make a difference to everybody else.” http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/04/16/prince-harry-sought-counselling-death-mother-led-two-years-total/

[chieffirecheesecake-blog]

stephen hawking’s 

the other day i was watching stephen hawking’s film, starring eddie redmayne, called “the theory of everything”; he was a graduate at cambridge university, married to a girl called “jane”; but later in life, after having a baby boy and girl, developed the disease called “motor neuron disease”; which bascially attacks the immune system, and deliberates one’s entire body functions; hence they end up in the wheel chair, without speech, and other weakening bodily functions; and basically look and act like a spastic !…

they need a helper; but their brain’s are still functioning (of course, otherwise they would be dead !)..durrrrrrrr….! (not the great whizz-kid internet poker player; i’ll come onto that later !)….wts……….guys !……………and gals !

anyway throughout this process and time, his wife jane, with the help of their cambridge institute, had a greater and greater resolve, to keep this talented physicist alive…..money….at no costs..!..doubtless, they knew he had a talent; and during the many science debating societies, he almost always got the better of his fellow peers and professors, when it came onto the matter of the black hole, and it’s relative place in space – the milky-way ……….

anyway, and so stephen wrote about space, the universe, and especially the subject matter of the black hole; he later coined a number of these books out on those matter, and he became an international bestseller; his expertise was sort after all over the world, and he is world famous physicist…..as the film for his biopic shows….

  i think with the black hole, all matter in space is sucked into this hole, and everything becomes non-existant; ie. end of….finished…something becomes nothing, death……; if you think about it, we (the human race) existed, because of the “big bang theory” (no..not the tv programme !)…nothing’s suddenly becomes something’s….and hence, miracleously, the milky-way (universe) developed…..wow….this didn’t happened overnight, neither in a week (as they say in politics..” a week is a long time in politics “….), nor in a month or two, or a year, or even a light-year (the speed that light travels in a year – a very, very, very long distance)……but over a long expense of time to create this creation- the universe…..; of course, in the bible it says that God created the universe in 7 days…..

  trevor and his wife

i once ask this person next to me in church…….. i can still recall his name, erm…nope it’s gone….ermmm….maybe it’s john from esher, definitely esher !…he was dating a phillipno girl called athena (not the poster shop !), whom cancelled her wedding of her first love, trevor (who is married to matinez of european descent, now with 4 or 5 kids, working with his partner “ball”, and sells houses in an estate agency in euston called “banbury and ball”….!)

i think he only got married, because one day, when he was out and about; maybe driving around travalgar square, he say’s…and these are his word’s…” he got punched in the face from an unknown assilant, whilst he was driving by inside his car “…..!…anyway, athena the girl whom he was suppose to get married to (they had planned everything, bought the house and had all the furniture ready, sent out all the invitations, and had the flowers ready….everything was planned to a military precision…), then on the eve of the night of the wedding……………….wait for it……………..the wedding was cancelled !……… ( they later asked her why did they cancelled it, and she said…” it was the toaster….”)……lucky trevor…!…..open quote “never haveth a man got away with something so profound and utterly amazing, even houdini…!..then our man trev…” unquote dickens/shakespear…………..

anyway athena and this esher guy didn’t stayed together too long, cos he lived near where i lived; and when i visited him, he’d gone….athena’s brother is….was in wembley ward, and drives around a 4 by 4, the last time we’d met, which is many moons ago………..

  charles in the willesden take-away…..

when i was working in a chinese take-away in willesden, a customer by the name of charles; he was abit of a christain, drove around a humber..!.. and asked me questions like “what xmas present shall i get my wife?”; i told him eternal life, and he’s raised his eye-brows and thought about it, then said that he’ll go home and consult his bible and God on this matter, to give it some ponder; i give him his usual food (singapore mild rice, half a chicken balls and a pepsi drink), and he was off on his ways…….( a few years down the line, i bumped into him again in my local edgware; he’d got rid of the humber, had no wifey, and was not a christain anymore; we exchanged emails again – i asked him why he hadn’t emailed me; he said that he did…but i had once again changed my email address…..and so i gave him my new email (i said i might be changing it soon!), and said we’ll keep in touch (he still hasn’t).

  the beginning, the middle, and the end…..

so what has all this got to do with death, and all that…..?

well i was you-tubing today on social media on the net, and i came across the death of one “queen of covers”, and singer in the song contest “the voice”, and mentor with one “adam levine of maroon 5”; ms grimme, or christina grimme had been shot by one of her supposely “fan”, and been killed; later ms grimme’s brother up-ended this shooter, and during the struggle, the killer had fled and shot and killed himself….

and lately with the death’s of all the victims caught up in the flooding in houston and elsewhere around the world (and this years 20th anniversay of the death of diana and al fayed’s son dodi, in that fatal car crash in the parisian tunnel (including the driver, the bodyguard, trevor, survived with injuries); my thoughts turned to the matter of death; and since it’s with us all the time (see the tv and the news on the box, and you can get a giff of what i’m talking about……..remembering……..bruce forsythe, david bowie, freddy mercury, michael jackon, george michael, prince, all the stars that one knows from your telly days, etc……….

  senna….

according to God, everything has a beginning and an ending ( the alpha and the omega, as it says in the bible); last night i was repeat watching the documentary (award winning) that is called “senna”; the formula I racing driving – aryton senna, the brazilian hero in his homeland- he gave alot of money to worthy causes, through the money that he’d earned through his driving; later it turned out that aryton’s sister had developed an academy for teaching school kids about car-racing (over 20 years long, and still going strong), after the death of his brother…in that fatal weekend in imola, may 1984 ( i still remember going to my local newsagent in colindale to buy the papers, and was fascinated and reading the article about senna’s death with utnost curiosity…..the title of the article in the newspaper was something like this….” senna’s dead !”…..

senna came from a church upbringing, as was his parents and family; they were very rich, so had no problem with money growing up; but they still had to work damp hard if senna was gonna get into formula I racing; he’d already became the go-cart champion in his teenage days  (and indeed his favourite racing competitor came from the go-carts, by the name of one mr. fullerton of great britain – he said it was because of his exact racing terminology – it wasn’t “prost”, which one would assume, for his many battles with him in the championship title race every year !……

anyway, prost had retired from racing after his victory in 1983; and he left williams; senna raced his last race for maclaren, and duely put pen to paper, and signed for williams ( prost and senna didn’t joined the same team, like they had at maclaren, ‘cos prost had stipulated in his contract that he didn’t want senna to be his team-mate !); there was a few changes to the previous years cars; one being the on-board computer, which could assist the driver during the wheel-balancing shafts through the fast corners of the track. senna was not used to this (ie. no computerised help from the cars), and he found it difficult to control the cars( he’d often spun off, or went off course for that matter)…

anyway, a one young german called schumacher, driving a bennetton won that years first 2 races; obviously with no mechanical or computerised help from the cars; senna couldn’t figure out why schmacher was racing faster than him with basically the same or similar cars; he wanted mr. william’s to challenge the benetton team ‘cos he thought they must be cheating !, but williams declined senna’s request !

anyway, that weekend, a simon donnelly had a very bad accident, during the 1st practise session at imola, when him and his seat was caterpulted away from the car and landed in the middle of the racing track;  his body seemed lifeless, and seemed in be positioned in a weird angle, still strapped in his seatbelt of the seat ( the car was kappulted near the spectators side, badly damaged); it was determined later, that he was okay, and suffered minor damage…i think….

the next day, a mr. ratzenburger, racing for the mtv team, suffered a fatal crash against the barriers of the track at over 200kph; he was pronouced dead in hospital a few hours later; that night a sad and sullen racing community was in a state of disbelief; it was thought that they might have to cancel the imola race…..they rested and slept over it throughout the night; the next morning, everyone was preparing for the race to start, sometime in the afternoon…..senna was in pole position, with schmacher’s benetton next to him on the outside; after a few laps, with michael bearing down on senna, senna mis-timed a very fast corner; senna crashed into the barriers – maybe he was going over 160kph – ( there were no car tyres by the wall !..’cos senna and the rest of the crew thought that it made the cars go up in the air, whenever they crashed into it, as it had happened to senna one or two years ago in a race…); senna was airlifted to hospital, where he was pronounced dead; the whole of the racing community was in shock, and so were the world, together with the brazilian nation, were together in mourning…senna was dead at 34.

  death (by poem)….

it shocks and stuns, the world over;  it has no meaning, ‘cos it just doesn’t make any sense; it saddens and it’s the very opposite of what people are doing right this moment;

it’s the ending of something we all take for granted……life; like a flower, it’s very precious and delicate; like a baby, very soft and vunerable…

but when a brown leave falls from the tree, and dies together with the rest of the other leaves, we just walk through it, waiting for the park ranger to come and sweep it up !

we don’t understand it, cos we have no answers; answers don’t come from large shoutings, but from small whisperings…

when life is hard, we turn and look for answers; maybe God will deliver us from this hellish place, and place us in a state of bliss and eternal harmony;

everything is so noisy and chaotic; we just want peace and health; to share the things that pleasure us, and improves our well-being; we are just small cogs in this big, wide world of His……we pray for more time, cos time is all we have; as we stutter through our weekly dues;

we are reminded of our situation ( there’s even a guy called “the situation”, in the reality show…jersey shore !), so we are all cogs in this mechanial world, adhering to the pushes and pulls of this great monopolise, that is earth…

so how come we don’t understand it when things come to an end; so how come we don’t understand it, when we can just vanish like a puff of smoke; when the idea that we humans can exist forever never materialise; you said say “la vie….viva whatever”….but it doesn’t ring true; where’s the catch in that ? where’s the sense in all that ? where’s the fun in all that ? where’s the bother in all that ?….

hold your horses; the human race is still on-going; there’s  no slowing down; what binds us and heals us, are what bonds us together; just like the stars in the universe, we look at life through the lens of the darkness of the night……

and so on……….

  end of…………!

          death….r.i.p……end of….. stephen hawking's  the other day i was watching stephen hawking's film, starring eddie redmayne, called "the theory of everything"; he was a graduate at cambridge university, married to a girl called "jane"; but later in life, after having a baby boy and girl, developed the disease called "motor neuron disease"; which bascially attacks the immune system, and deliberates one's entire body functions; hence they end up in the wheel chair, without speech, and other weakening bodily functions; and basically look and act like a spastic !...

[angstymarshmallow]

Chapter Fourteen: “The Manor Shrouded in Darkness” (Part 14 Of Fantasy AU, a TRR fanfic)

[A little note: I think if I read this again, I may go insane. Here’s Part 14, of my slaves of Fates series and as usual, thank you so much for those of you who’ve kept up with this monster of a series so far. Hope you enjoy!]

[Word Count: 6869]

Part 1: “The Beginning” Part 2: “The Adventurer” Part 3: “The Knight” Part 4: “The Jester” Part 5: “The Untimely Meeting” Part 6: “The Unlikely Alliance” Part 7: “The Mismatched Trio” Part 8: “The Ambush” Part 9: “The Plan B” Part 10: “The Rebels of Willesden” Part 11: “The Battle for Willesden” Part 12: “The Plan to End All Tyranny” Part 13: “The Mage’s Rune” 

Bile rose in Drake’s throat. He swallowed thickly, shaking his head as he turned away from the grisly sight. “I don’t understand…are you telling me it’s the same….thing from whatever we saw before?”

  “Is that even possible? Are you certain it is the same rune?” Maxwell added, finding the idea too incredulous. To be the same rune to have caused the explosion meant they were in far graver danger than any of them realized. It was difficult to look for long, but he kept his jaw clenched tight. He squinted at the body, trying to find similarities in the design on its chest.

Robyn gave them a curt nod.

She couldn’t forget even if she tried – the memory had burned a hole inside her head and just the sight of this made her skin crawl. She rubbed the abrupt goosebumps on her arms and searched for the right words to adequately explain how bizarre this all was. “It shouldn’t be possible…and yet yes I am quite sure it.” She shook her head. “It does not make any sense; no mage should have that amount of magic at their fingertips.”

“What do you mean?” Drake’s lips curled a little. “Aren’t all mages powerful?”

“In theory yes,” Robyn uttered a frustrated sigh. “You have seen how different Maxwell and I are. And as a mage - well, we all have different affinities and abilities depending on our bloodline.” She further explained. “I suppose Neville’s bloodline must be exceptionally strong…” She trailed off for a moment, steadying breath. “Still, he shouldn’t be capable of making so many runes in such little time. That requires tremendous amounts of power.” Without realizing it, her eyes drifted to the rune she had placed on Drake shy of a week ago – the spot that was still remarkably hidden and invisible to the naked eye. 

She winced.

He followed her gaze before she could look away. His eyes narrowed into slits. “There is something you are not telling us.”

She tried to keep her expression neutral, but inwardly her heart skipped a beat. “Nonsense.”

“But the rune made one of the bandits explode the last time, did it not?” Maxwell reminded her. “How could they be one in the same?”

Mercifully, Drake had averted his stare and for the moment, Robyn could breathe a little easier again. “I know how strange this all sounds,” she turned to Maxwell. “But I recognize those as the very same inscriptions.” Her brows knitted in concentration. “They are the same even though they didn’t explode.” A sudden horrible thought struck her, “it could be possible that the amount of magic they all required could have negatively affected them…” Realizing she had spoken aloud, she snapped her mouth shut.

She didn’t want to finish the thought.

“What is it?” She flinched slightly at the sudden harshness laced inside Drake’s tone. He took a threatening closer to her, his eyes flashing with anger – whether it was towards her or Neville, Robyn wasn’t sure but she stumbled back all the same. “You have a duty to tell us exactly what you’re thinking – whatever it may be. You cannot withhold information that could help us.”

“A duty?” She bristled. “I have no such thing.” Had he forgotten it was him and his friend who came to her for aid – and not the other way around? “You’re a long way from home and I owe you nothing.” She felt a prickle of guilt at her own words and ignored it. She could not think of it now – nor the scratch she had made on his soul. Right now, all that mattered was the threat that Neville possessed.

“Drake –” Maxwell interrupted, wedging himself between them. Now wasn’t the time for either one of them to lose their tempers. But he could feel the change in the air, shifting and tensing around them. If they did not enter Neville’s manor as a cohesive unit – Maxwell doubted their odds of survivals even more by the second.

He could decipher Caspen’s familiar lanky figure from the corner of his eyes, followed by the rest of their companions bunching the steps of the manor. He watched bewilderment touch their expressions and what he felt earlier dawned on their faces; twisting their expressions into downright horror.

“Heavens, we’re too late.” Caspen swore, running his fingers in frustration through his dark hair.

Every single one of them turned to gape at him and seemingly oblivious to their stare, Caspen bent and inspected the dead more closely. “It is just as I feared.”

Robyn considered asking surely what she thought everyone else had been thinking. “You knew about this? That they were…” She trailed off for a moment, trying to think of a word for it. “Runed?”

“I heard rumors from Gretchen.” Caspen answered carefully. His eyes were unreadable until they shifted to the body again. “But I didn’t want to believe they were true.” Those crystals of his were suddenly clouded with something she could describe as pity and sympathy before he got to his feet, after uttering a short prayer in aiding their passage in the afterlife. Clearing his throat, the Pinevale mayor frowned. “Gretchen didn’t have the time to tell me what they were capable of but by the looks of it – it’s not good.”

“Is there anyone else that wants to return back to Willesden right about now?” Maxwell said, gazing uneasily around him. “No? Just me?” He paused. “Well then.”

The rest seemed to have ignored his words. Most of them were still staring at the dead with fresh fear reflecting in their eyes until it felt as though it was even lingering in the air around them.

Drake had been the only one to recover quickly. He was no longer as stunned as the rest. He knew what mages were capable of and this only fueled his desire in believe that nothing good could from them. Mages, simply could not be trusted and were still as much of a danger as he always believed. And despite his earlier blunder when it came to Robyn, despite feeling her lips for the first time and wanting to devour her the moment she whispered his name, the woman in front of him – as much as she took his breath away, was a damned mage too. He glared at her, jaw locked tight with contempt. “And we won’t know the full extent until Robyn tells us whatever it is that she’s hiding.”

At the sound of her name, Robyn jolted – drawing attention from the rest of her companions onto her from Drake’s words. A mixture of curiosity, surprise, bewilderment and suspicion – flitted across their features, and no matter where she looked, she could not get away from their stares. They felt as though they were trying to pierce through her soul, rather than plead with her for more information.

She swallowed thickly.

“Oh, boy.” Maxwell mumbled. He did not like where this was headed at all.

“I’ve already told you all I know about runes.” Robyn folded her arms, chin jutting out to meet Drake’s glare with one of her own.  Liar, liar. A voice inwardly whispered to her but she shrugged it off.

For all she knew, they were going to somehow use that knowledge against.

“Robyn,” She hated the way he said her name – like it was poison, as if they hadn’t shared…something in the last twenty-four hours. She was wrong to think things were changing between them, because from where she was standing – all she could see was the same disregard for her life when he had discovered she was a mage.

“Time is running out – and we need to know what Neville is capable of.” Drake continued curtly, lips bared into a sneer.

She stiffened.

Maxwell stepped between them, raising his hands held high. “Okay, this is getting a little too tense for me.” He tried to placate them both with a smile. A smile he did not feel, as his gut suddenly prickled. “I don’t agree with Drake very often, but he does have a point my lady. If we are to storm in there and fight him – we need to know,” before she could protest, he quickly continued. “If it pertains to this that is.” He spared Drake a look. “And nothing more.”

Drake grumbled something under his breath, and the rest of their companions were anxiously waiting her answer.

Robyn sighed. “I suppose I do know something.” She said vaguely. She decided to choose her next words carefully; knowing that it Maxwell was right – didn’t mean she wanted to place herself under scrutiny. “I have mentioned how runes work,” she began. “Usually mages attach them to items – to imbue them with magical power or to store them somewhere for later…But…” She trailed off for a moment.

“Spit it out.” Drake snapped.

Maxwell elbowed him.

“Anything you have to say Robyn, we are all ears.” Caspen muttered. His eyes, glancing at her with that strange sympathy – as if he knew more than he was letting on.

Blinking, Robyn bit her lower lip. “Neville isn’t the first person I’ve come across that have used runes in this manner. Although, his are the only…positive results I’ve seen in quite some time.”

“This is positive results?” Drake uttered in disbelief. “The dead lying around us?”

She ignored his outburst. “When he placed the runes on his army, they didn’t die right away – that in itself is more than enough for what I anticipated. You see – although I don’t know all the rules around magic, trying to perverse it this way can never end well.” She thought briefly of her own parents – a stray thought that was somewhat murky; and the journal they had left behind – buried in the bottom of her burlap sack. “There’s been some…studies,” she didn’t know how else to explain, “and usually the subject has died.”

“So Neville’s using some major mumbo jumbo on his army.” Maxwell finished for her.

“Yes.” Robyn smiled slightly at him. “I remember from our last fight – the rune had allowed him control over the bandit, and I’m assuming there are other benefits as well.”

“But that doesn’t explain why he’s lying on the ground, dead.” Drake spoke up, impatiently.

“I was getting to that.” She gave a tired sigh. “Because runes are usually used on objects – they make artifacts. What Neville is trying to do is make people living weapons and, like I said the results of using it on people goes often unprecedented. I think because he’s using it on living beings – and a rune needs magic to work…it’s somehow taking the life force of the person to fuel itself.”

They all stared at her, stunned into silence by the implications of her words. She couldn’t blame them, she was still wrapping her head around it herself.

“You mean to tell me…” Maxwell shook his head in disbelief.

“Yes. That Neville’s using his magic to…an unstoppable army.” She sighed, “his mind is so simple, singular. My guess is he wants to take over not just small bits of it, but all of the North by the rate he’s going.” It was all starting to make sense to her now – his ego had indeed been that big.

“That’s madness.” Gavin whispered, his voice tinged with fear.

“But it is the truth.” She insisted. “I never understood why he needed the materials I had procured for him when we first met. But then I noticed all his diagrams and notes on his desk…now I understand. If he can perfect the rune on humans capabilities…”

“Then he really will be unstoppable.” Drake finished for her, sounding as horrified as she felt.

“Exactly.”

“No, he won’t.”

Robyn was surprised by the vehemence in Caspen’s voice as he stepped in front of them, unsheathing his sword as he pointed towards the door. Out of everyone all the other village leaders, she hadn’t expected the sudden grim determination to be in his eyes or for him to lead the charge into the manor.

“Follow me, we end Neville’s tyranny tonight.”

-

Ending it was easier said than done.

Once they entered the manor, the entire home seemed to be engulfed in darkness. They were surprised to find it pitch black and seemingly empty. The air was extremely chilly, Robyn had to rub her arms furiously in an effort to keep herself warm as she peered into the darkness of the room. It made no difference, she couldn’t see anything.

Caspen had ordered everyone to use their lanterns as he lit his own. He kept one hand on his weapon and the other clenched tightly around the oil-lamp once they had a chance to stare at their new surroundings.

But nothing could prepare them for this.

Everywhere they looked there was a strange and downright uneasy sight. Blood that seemed to have been present for at least several weeks was dried against the hardwood floors. The air seemed heavy with death although they could find no trace of bodies – only continuous signs of blood and the uneasy feeling that someone was watching them.

Robyn shivered.

Drake’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

Maxwell’s gaze skirted wildly as the terrible feeling in his stomach returned a tenfold.

Something very bad had happened here, and something was also telling Maxwell that it was a mistake coming through that door. Trying to swallow back his fear, he followed along with his companions – each foot taken was measured and careful steps were their forefront as they spotted the hall.

This was not the same place Robyn had been invited to several weeks ago. The air reeked of death. There were broken pieces of glass belonging to vases, windows – and intricate designs from Neville’s personal itinerary. Her eyes widened at the sight of the state of the walls. It was peeling in several paces. Portraits of the most recent Bloomingdale old mayor’s family were torn, left in tatters. The more they walked, the more she felt as though they were being watched.

She shuddered enough to draw a worried glance from Maxwell and Drake. She ignored Drake and gave Maxwell a timid smile of reassurance. It was the only thing she could muster without fear gripping her.

Their half-thought of plan to surprise Neville with an ambush seemed unlikely with the manor’s state and Robyn wondered when the last time the man had any visitors. Still, she couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling that had stricken her the moment they begun heading down the hall.

They kept a formation while they walked. Caspen, Hannon and Belfay were at the front. Robyn was comfortable in the middle while Maxwell, Drake and Gavin were stationed near their rear – all the while keeping a watchful gaze ahead, in case anything jumped out at them.

But nothing did.

Their feet were the only noise that carried; a soft thud against the carpet that was also stained with blood.

Heavens what happened here, Drake thought to himself. He frowned at the sight of more blood and wondered if there was no end to it.

“We need to find Gretchen.” Caspen whispered, breaking the silence first.

They had all been on edge that the sound of his voice made most of them jump; except for Drake who scowled at the suggestion. “She isn’t our priority.” He hissed.

“I don’t care. She is mine.” Caspen hissed back.

“Guys, we’re supposed to be keeping quiet.” Maxwell reminded them, with a whisper of his own.

“What exactly are we keeping quiet for?” Hannon grumbled, speaking louder than the rest. “There’s no one left alive.”

Caspen stiffened and Robyn shook her head. Something in her was telling her differently. “There’s evil here.” She murmured. She could feel it; reaching out to her, trying dig its claws onto her soul – and she wanted to recoil in fear. Swallowing thinly, she picked up her speed until she was only a few inches away from Caspen and Balfey. “I think we’re heading in the right direction.”

Near the end of the hall, there were several splitting from one another. A grand staircase whittled with age that led to the upstairs part of the manor. There was also a secondary staircase, although there was dried blood leading towards the lower level of the building and Robyn had a feeling whatever evil had tried to reach out, it had to be there.

“We do not split up.” Maxwell said stubbornly before anyone else had the chance to suggest it. “Splitting up is always a bad idea.”

Drake quirked an eyebrow at him – not that he disagreed, but there were also benefits in divide and conquer strategies.

“Does this have to do with that vi-” Robyn paused for a moment; remembering their company. “Ah,” coughing, she cleared her throat. “Does that have to do with that thing you talked about earlier?”

He stared at her for a moment then slowly realization dawned on him. “Yes, um at least, I think it does.” He frowned faintly. “I can’t really tell unless,” he bit his lower lip before he could finish his sentence. “But this all looks familiar.”

“I see, well that puts us back to square one.” Robyn sighed.

The rest of their companions except Drake had confusion flitting across their features by their whole exchange. “Just what in the bloody hell was that –” Caspen’s brows arched while Hannon’s eyes had narrowed in suspicion.

The rest of his sentence was rudely interrupted by a sudden noise. It was an ear-splitting scream; loud enough to make their eardrums ache as they moved to cover their ears.

“What in heavens name is going on?!” Hannon growled.

Robyn would like to know. All she could was press her eyes close and wait for the noise to subside. When it did seconds later and she could finally hear again, she glanced at her companions in dismay. “I don’t know what that it is, but whatever it is –couldn’t have been good.”

Another loud scream pierced their eyes, bringing nearly all of them to their knees.

Robyn had to think on her feet. Keeping one hand in the air, she forced herself to push past the ghoulish sound and focused. She concentrated on letting go – just enough to feel the familiar flood of magic in her veins. It came quickly as though it had been waiting an eternity for her.

She gritted her teeth and forced it to heel; taking what she needed to feed a quick spell. Her senses became duller and to her ears the high-pitched scream became nothing more than dull background voice. The incantation was brief but she knew it was successful as the people around her suddenly dropped their hands.

They shared glances of confusion, which Robyn avoided by staring straight ahead. She couldn’t exactly explain why they suddenly had no difficulty withstanding the screaming – not without revealing her magic.

Then the screaming returned, loud enough to nearly break Robyn’s spell – and this time it was accompanied by something furry – and vaguely familiar squeezing itself into the hall.

Emerging from the basement was a furry looking beast. It’s head had nearly reached the ceiling and its paws were rather razor sharp along with the long canine teeth that seemed to have grown into fangs the moment it growled at them. If it had two feet high instead of wide and taking up one fourth’s of the room, Robyn might have laughed.

However, their circumstances were quite unlaughable as Robyn noticed the glint of a rune; the same inscription that had troubled them all night.

Shit.

The furry creature wasn’t just any furry creature. She remembered it being a cat once – barely a foot tall.  It still had its sleek and nearly all white coat but it wasn’t the adorable little critter that occasionally hissed at her the last time she was here. She stared at it while everyone else had begun backing away with increased frenzy.  “Is that Snowball?” Sure enough the large animal’s whiskers and ears seemed to twitch in recognition before it begun circling them; its red eyes glinting as though they were its prey.

They probably were.

“Robyn,” Maxwell somehow managed to keep his voice calm – despite the real possibility of death becoming very apparent. He wanted to scream. “How do you know this Snowball? More importantly why is she looking at us like we’re breakfast?”

“That’s because we probably are.” Robyn muttered back. Louder, she yelled. “Here kitty, kitty.” She stretched her arms in the air, “don’t you remember me?” She cooed, biting back the fear she had felt rising to her chest.

It hissed – sending another shrill scream through out the air.

She quickly hugged herself. “Yup, I’m definitely getting the impression that we’re on the menu.”

“What do we do?” Hannon whispered urgently. “I do not fancy being cat food.”

“I say we split up.” Caspen grunted, spinning his sword fluidly in his hand.

Maxwell was the first to protest. “I thought we agreed splitting up was a very bad idea.”

“Well if you haven’t noticed outsider, we’re pretty much shite out of luck. So, unless you’ve got something better –”

The furry beast, “Snowball” roared. It bared its teeth before pouncing forward.

“I see your point!” Maxwell yelled back and as the giant creature darted across the room, the companions dispersed into several directions.

Both Maxwell and Gavin skirted towards the right before making a mad dash for upstairs. Caspen and Robyn had darted to the left, using the basement stairs as coverage. Drake and Hannon narrowly missed its sharp claws and Drake winced at the sudden stab of pain he felt in his side.

“Drake!” Robyn yelled. She couldn’t dampen her reaction. Her stomach lurched and she was afraid for his safety. She took a small step in his direction.

He gave a brief nod in an indication that he was alright. “You go on ahead, we’ll take care of this beast while Maxwell and Gavin are upstairs.”

“But – ” She hesitated. She felt uncertainty and dread nearly overwhelm her all at once, until Caspen was almost yanking her away.

“Don’t be stupid. This is our only shot. We’ve got this.”

“No, we don’t!” Hannon grunted, ducking as the large animal swiped at him with her paws. He loaded his crossbow and fired three into its side.

Snowball hissed. Its large tail manage to swipe Hannon off his feet. Though at the sight of the other three talking, it skirted around Drake and made a dash for Robyn and Caspen with its fangs bared. Before it could reach them however, Drake used the brunt of his shoulder to dive into his side; shoving and screaming until Snowball tittered forward on unsteady legs. The large animal slammed into the wall – inches away from Robyn and Caspen.

“Go you idiots!” Drake snarled, his eyes bright with determination. “That’s an order!”

Robyn wanted to argue that she wasn’t a soldier and therefore didn’t take orders from him, but by the look inside his eyes, she knew this was not up for debate. Ignoring her fear for his safety, she allowed herself to pulled towards the stairs. “Alright, alright. But don’t you dare die. We’ve still got a prince to go rescue.”

She thought she was seeing things, but the corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

-

It was colder in the lower area of the manor. The minute they locked the door behind them, Robyn couldn’t stop shaking. Coldness bit into her cheeks and she rubbed her hands together to stop them from going numb. Her breaths came out in the air as hurried smoke and she tried to get her breathing under control.

“Here, take this.” The Pinevale mayor from beside her handed her his cloak.

She wanted to ignore his outstretched hand, however the temptation was too great. The rest of agreed her seemed to agree his gesture as she gratefully slipped it around her. Instead of using it all for herself, she placed her arm loosely around him and tugged him close enough to share. “You can’t fool me for even a second. You’re cold too.”

Caspen laughed until his teeth started to chatter. “I am, but I thought it was the chivalrous thing to offer the fair maiden in my present company, my cloak.”

She snorted. “Caspen, you will soon realize I am unlike any fair maiden you have ever met.”

“Aye, I am already starting to realize that.” He glanced at her then. “Considering you are a mage.”

“I – what?” She stumbled, nearly falling into him.

His arm came out to steady her.

Robyn wanted to deny it of course, it was the only logical thing to do. She did not know him and despite how charming his subtle and not-so-subtle flirtation was, she had to protect herself. “Magic?” She snorted. “Are you daft? Why in heavens sake would you think that.”

His eyes unnerved her. They trapped her under their stare. She didn’t see fear reflecting back at her, she saw gratitude and something else. “When that blasted beast was screaming at us – you saved us.”

“No, I didn’t,” she quickly tried to protest but he interceded.

“You did. It’s the only explanation as to why it didn’t destroy our eardrums.” Caspen searched her eyes. “You saved us and you have my gratitude.”

For a moment, Robyn couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak either.

“If you’re worried about me telling anyone, I won’t. I have my own secrets and I believe people more than deserve to have their own.” He smiled. It was a soft smile that Robyn couldn’t look away from. “I don’t think the others have noticed as much; they fear magic as much as the next person and would rather believe it was the work of the gods.”

Instead, she nodded slowly; releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “Yes, I am a mage.” It had been awhile since she had uttered such words and aloud; and saying them now filled her with a sense of purpose and identity. “But why aren’t you afraid?” She looked at him; really looked at him – there wasn’t an ounce of fear in his open gaze.

“Because you’ve done nothing for me to fear you.” He seemed to be...admiring her. It was something she wasn’t used to. “I see things a little differently than the rest of the village leaders. Unlike them I’ve explored a little, seen bits of the world – things that could not explained until father called me home.” A shadow passed through his features before he continued. “But magic in itself is nothing to be feared, it is a tool that shapes and bends to the person’s will. It is always people that have been scary – no matter how many wars, rivalries or time that has passed; it seems that will always stand true.”

Robyn nodded thoughtfully at his words. She couldn’t agree with him completely; she was living and breathing proof of magic and yet she did not consider it a tool – she was beginning to think it was simply apart of who she was. “I do like the way you talk,” she hadn’t realized she had said the words out-loud until the Pinevale mayor chucked; guiding her closer to him as they walked.

“It isn’t the first time someone’s said this to me,” he said coolly, “but it is the first time I’ve been interested to care what someone else thinks.” His gaze held and his hand slid to hers where her pulse jumped.

She swore she could see deepest hues of blue in his eyes before she pulled away. “I bet you say that to all the woman you meet.” She murmured.

He made a noise of agreement. “Only the pretty ones,” Winking, he turned his sight back into the impending darkness in front of them. It seemed to stretch eons as he held his lantern higher.

Robyn’s gaze drifted towards the ceiling for a moment before they began walking again. “What is this place?

“Neville’s creepy dungeon.” Caspen offered.

She knew he meant it as a jest, but she found herself more than inclined to agree. “I wish laughing wouldn’t hurt.”

“Save it for something truly funny,” he waited a beat. “Such as Neville’s face when he realizes we’ve come to put an end to his foolish reign over Bloomingdale.”

“You really think we can beat him?” She peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. She liked admiring people when she could, yet the usual confidence Caspen seemed to radiate seemed to be missing now.

He looked shaken but not defeated. “I don’t know.” He answered carefully. “I haven’t seen anyone alive. Gretchen is probably dead. There’s a giant cat upstairs ready to maul and eat everyone. And whatever hell is waiting for us down here is likely to get us killed.”

“So, all in all…you’re saying it’s likely that we’ll win.”

He laughed and Robyn found it was a pleasant sound compared to the silence she had become accustomed to whenever she was with Drake. Although, she had no idea why she was suddenly thinking of him – and why comparing the two was her first thought. Her first and foremost thought should be getting out here alive, preferably all intact.

“Your sense of humour may be what we need to turn the tide.” He teased.

“You wouldn’t be the first to admire it.” Actually, he would be – but Robyn didn’t want to mention that. She didn’t want to break their easy banter as they came closer and closer to certain doom. Her expression softened, “besides you don’t know that she’s dead.”

He gave her a droll stare. “We haven’t seen anyone alive, everyone else has either been eaten by that…monster upstairs or worse.”

“She’s important to you, isn’t she?” She peeked at him from the corner of her eyes.

“What?” An easy smile slid in place. “Feeling jealous?”

“Hardly.” She snorted. “It’s just…you don’t seem like the type.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “She’s a close family friend, since you’ve asked.” He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, “I disagreed with her leaving for Bloomingdale but she didn’t listen.” Sadness flashed in his eyes before just as quickly fading. “And for the record, you’re wrong I am the type.” His unnerving blue eyes settled on her. “But only for the right person.” Then he had the galls to wink at her.

She laughed and playfully slapped his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous!”

“Maybe, but I did get you to laugh – didn’t I?”

“Maybe.” Her lips twitched.

“And to smile despite our grim circumstances.” He smirked. “I am truly a worker of miracles.

Shaking her head, she was about to retort before a sudden chill seeped into her bones. She shivered.

“What is it?”

She could sense it again. A great evil that was growing stronger the further they headed into whatever awaited them in the dark. She could hear its subtle whispers and cocked her head to listen. It was almost nauseating. “You remember the evil I mentioned earlier?”

“I don’t think I’ll like where this is heading, but yes.”

“Then you’re really going to hate what I have to say next. It’s somewhere down here.”

“Fantastic.”

-

Upstairs Maxwell and Gavin had begun searching every room in sight. They split up; Maxwell had gone for the bedroom first while the older gentleman ran to the guestroom a couple feet away. Both could hear the scurry of feet moving downstairs, the crash that followed when the wailing cat had crashed into something. And no mattered how terrifying it sounded, neither one of them offered to rush back and help.

Maxwell enjoyed being alive too much, and right now he knew he could do more good by finding whatever plans Neville had for all six towns before it was too late. He understood the basic concept of wanting to create better versions of one selves, however the rune part was still very beyond his knowledge of magic. Unlike Robyn he wasn’t well-versed in magic and not knowing made it easier for him to part with the others in good conscience.

He gave a little squeal of triumph when his fingers had finally found something heavy and black. He made room for it on the dresser as his curiosity overtaken the better of him. Laden with pages wrapped in leather, he hovered over the parchment only for his fingers to suddenly burn the second they made contact.

“By the heavens!” Maxwell swore foully. He blew on his fingertips.

“Did you find somethin’?”

Maxwell hadn’t heard the older gentleman come in. He pointed at the book, “sort of. It won’t budge. But my guess is there’s magic binding this together.” When he tried to touch it again, all he could manage was a yelp. “Yup definitely magic.”

“It’s foul! We should leave it here.”

Maxwell shook his head. He knew the benefits of something important when he saw it. Glancing around warily, he carefully used his rapier to slice half of the bedsheet and wrapped it inside the magical item before strapping it to his back. “I say it’ll be useful for later.”

He heard the older man grumble before disappearing again and when he was gone, Maxwell scourged the rest of room. He found nothing – nothing else of his importance anyway. For a man that had always seemed arrogant the lack of any personal items here he found was startling. His eyes located a picture though, although the frame seemed broken he brushed of pieces askew before raising it closer to his lantern.

It was a picture of Neville several years younger with his parents. As a little boy, he looked like the Neville he remembered – a person that laughed for the fun of it and not for other people’s expense and enjoyed games that only children could. But they were no longer children and whatever ties Maxwell felt to the man couldn’t stand in the way of all the horrid atrocities he committed.

Heaving a sigh, he folded the photo and tucked it into his breast pocket before seeking another room.

-

Downstairs Drake was trying his best not to be killed. Despite his earlier reassurances to Robyn, it was proving to be far more difficult to keep his promise each time he dodged another one of the creature’s attacks.

His muscles were starting to grow weary and tears were starting to form into his clothes, while Snowball seemed to have an abundance of energy. He didn’t doubt that it had more to do with the rune on his neck than its actual physique as the beast’s unnerving bright-crimsons watched his every move.

Drake couldn’t fathom how he was getting out of this one – at least not alive, especially with his comrade swearing and yelling as he tried to stay out the way. “Can your aim be a little better Hannon?” He growled at the heavy-set man, as he nimbly missed another swipe of Snowball’s dastardly terrifying claws.

“I am trying.” Hannon wheezed through a cough, as he unloaded another barrage of bolts –only two hitting true to it’s arm. They stuck the beast’s left side. And yet it seemed more a nick though than doing any good in slowing it down because the furry creature didn’t as much as winced despite its side starting to bleed rather profusely.

Drake couldn’t understand it. Did the animal feel no pain?

It must be the rune. His inner thoughts nagged insistently as the cat begun circling him. But how do I stop that? How did he have any hope of stopping such a thing when he didn’t know its weakness?

The rune itself seemed to be pulsating from its exposed neck. The familiar looking inscriptions etched into its coat and the veins around it were a stark contrast to its white fur. It was pulsating a dark shade of violet.

Drake’s brows furrowed at the sight, his brain trying to think of a way to gain the upper hand. The beast pounced for another attack and his blade met claws head-on before he rolled and feinted left, swiping his weapon to chip off one of it’s jagged edges.

The creature didn’t as much as blink at the lost claw, confirming Drake’s suspicions that it seemed incapable of feeling pain. “Great.” He muttered grimly, “an enemy without pain is going to be hard to cut down.” The thought alone would have terrified if it not had been for the adrenaline him rousing the knight to his feet.

“I have an idea.” Drake yelled to Hannon as he skirted around the hall with Snowball nearly snapping at his heels. “But you’re not going to like it, hell I don’t even like it.”

Hannon was across the room; his beady eyes widening as the two figures drew closer. “What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be the distraction!”

“I am the distraction!” Drake shouted back. “See that rune on his neck? The one Robyn was talking about?” He didn’t wait for him to answer as he ducked against another swipe of the creature’s claws. “Just aim your next attack at his neck – and please for the love of god – do not miss.”

Hannon’s mouth moved to protest but at the increasing alarm in which they grew closer, he seemed to think better of it. Raising his hands high, he kept his eyes locked on the animal – watching its jerky movements. There was a pattern to it and Hannon smiled as he adjusted his weight on his weapon. He closed one eye and held his breath. He released the same moment the bolts did – one missing its mark but the other two dug itself right in the middle.

Snowball dug its feet into the ground, yowling loud enough for Drake to cup his ears as he tried to skirt out of its way. Its claws were desperately trying to reach him as it started sliding against the floor.

“Heads up,” Drake began running past Hannon and at the last second; he thought better of it and scooped the shorter man into his arms. His feet began an all-out sprint.

Hannon screamed, clutching the taller gentleman as the beast begun tumbling down. Its eyes seemed to widen in horror when Drake glanced back and for a moment, he felt a wave of pity for the animal as it landed in a heap – its head slamming against the hallway’s wall with such force that it made a hole giant enough for its head to fall quickly through.

Drake uttered a sigh of relief, shoulders sagging until Hannon started hitting him with his fists. “Put me down – you giant oaf!’

The knight grunted, narrowly missing another fist to his shoulder as he helped the village leader to his feet. “You’re welcome.” He said dryly.

The shorter man harrumphed and muttered something under his breath; too low for Drake to hear. He patted his protruding stomach before hooking his crossbow to the straps across his back. “We’re wasting time.”

Drake agreed. “We need to find the others. Hopefully they’ve had much better luck than the rest of us – ”

“Drake!” Maxwell’s voice interrupted. It boomed from upstairs and the knight had to crane his neck to see the nobleman’s frantic wave. “Are you alright?”

“We’re fine.” He couldn’t lie to himself. He was happy to see the other man alive.

“Speak for yourself.” Hannon grumbled.

Drake ignored him. “And you?”

“Fine.” Maxwell beamed. “Even better now that we’ve found something. I think – I think it may help, but we’ll have to show Robyn.”

At the sound of her name Drake stood a little straighter and cursed. He had forgotten. He left the woman with that village leader because he hadn’t any other choice. Now he wondered what kind of ill-fate awaited them since making it to the lower level. They needed to hurry.

“Aye, I’m here as well!” Seconds later, Gavin’s grey hair poked through before his face met Hannon’s relieved smile. “He says that blasted thing is useful but it isn’t since we can’t actually put it to use right now, can we boy?” He glared at Maxwell.

“Not every little thing will reveal itself all at once.” Maxwell argued, glaring back. “One has to simply wait for the meanings to make themselves known. I am sure of it.”

Gavin stared at him. “What kind of foolish, dimwitted thinking –”

“Explain on the way,” Drake cupped his mouth to shout and interrupted their bickering. His impatience and worry were at odds with each other, warring as he thought of Robyn and the imposing threat that awaited them at the other staircase.

The knight was not a betting man, or a superstitious man but he was a man that believed in fear. Fear was real and tangible in a way that he could not stop the shudder of trepidation from reaching him. Whatever the lower level held – it most certainly would descend them into more danger. “We need to find Robyn and Caspen before Neville does.”

-

Tags:  @mariamatsuo @mrswalkerwrites, @nerdpossible, @asprankle, @speedyoperarascalparty @hellomynameisdeviblaire @craftytacotrashdream , @mysteli, @simplyaiden-blog, @innerpostmentality, @snyggflicka, @speedyoperarascalparty 

[angstymarshmallow]

“The Plan to End All Tyranny” (Part 12 Of Fantasy AU, a TRR fanfic)

[A little note: I pretty much worked on this the whole day...and I’m actually posting on my supposed update day for my trr au series. This is a little bit of a down time for our young heroes but necessary I think, plot-wise. Without further ado here is chapter twelve! I would love to your thoughts, you all keep me so motivated! Thanks for reading!]

[Word Count: 6470]

[Summary:  Two days have passed since the battle of Willesden. In its aftermath, Robyn (MC), Drake and Maxwell are caught in the middle of thwarting Neville’s plan with one of their own. Can all the townships leaders work together to put an end to all his tyranny?]

Part 1: “The Beginning” Part 2: “The Adventurer” Part 3: “The Knight” Part 4: “The Jester” Part 5: “The Untimely Meeting” Part 6: “The Unlikely Alliance” Part 7: “The Mismatched Trio” Part 8: “The Ambush” Part 9: “The Plan B” Part 10: “The Rebels of Willesden” Part 11: “The Battle for Willesden”

Time seemed to pass differently when one was unconscious to the waking world. Hours blurred together, and days were just as quickly forgotten. It took a few minutes for the events that had led Robyn sleeping where she was, to come rushing back to her in all its painful detail. She sat upright, almost crying out in anguish at the stinging ache residing in her ribs. She yanked the sheet hastily aside and ignored another stab of pain before running fingers past her chest until they halted by her stomach.

There was a gauze there, wrapped five times over. She pressed her fingers lightly against the spot that stung the most and flinched. Despite how much pain she felt, she knew she was still lucky to be alive.

She skimmed the room, noting the old fixtures and half-cracked window; she was back in at the Willesden inn. She wondered how she had managed to get here on her own until the stark memory of being in Drake’s arms gripped her mind.

Her cheeks heated at the thought.

He must have carried her.

Twice now it seemed he had saved her life.

Uttering a small sigh, Robyn gripped the side of the wooden bed. She took a moment to gather her enough strength to stand, before shifting her legs to follow the movement of her eyes. Wincing, she suffered through the ache in her side and took one step at a time towards the open hallway.

Her hands were shaking but she wouldn’t let that deter her. She held feebly onto the wall and forced herself forward. The floorboards creaked.

She needed to find everyone. She needed to know who was still alive – if he – if everyone had made it alive.

The sound of voices filled her ears as she glided across the hall. They sounded as though they were in a hurry, voices rushing to beat each other– raising in volume the more she walked until she was almost at the front of the tavern.

It was not open.

She could tell by the lack of patrons. She had anticipated laughing and dancing – filled to the brim as it had been on every other night close to midnight. The only people that carried the weight of the evening were not dancing nor had they been laughing with merry content.

Half of them were recognizable to her. The sight of Owen’s grand mustache and beefy arms, Balfey’s patronizing glare at the younger gentleman beside him – Maxwell who was grinning impishly back and Drake with his dark eyes rooted at the floor were all present. And the rest were people she didn’t know and they were too important-looking to be mere foreigners. Swept inside robes of finer fabrics and frown lines creasing their brows, they had all been chatting animatedly until she poked her head inside.

The room became silent.

Maxwell was the first to react. “Lady Robyn!” He beamed at her, sweeping past the rest of gentlemen to cross the room.

“Maxwell,” she greeted warmly. “I - oof –” his sudden hug caught her off-guard. She hadn’t anticipated his embrace and as warm as it was – her body protested in throbbing pain. “It’s good to see you too.”

“My apologies,” he straightened himself to grin ruefully down at her. “I’m just…relieved to see you’re alright that’s all.” His arms lingered a moment longer before dropping to his side.

“I’m relieved to see you as well,” she squeezed his shoulder and glanced past him. “But what in heavens is going on?” Her eyes skimmed past the unlikely group of people, half-paying them attention.

“You need your rest,” Maxwell said gently. He obscured her vision by stepping in front of her.

“I don’t need anymore rest.” She objected thinly, trying and failing to push past him.

“Robyn –”

“You would do well to listen to the man,” one of the unfamiliar men snorted. He was loud enough for her to hear the dismissal in his voice. “Ladies should not involve themselves in such matters.”

Robyn bristled. “Luckily for all of you, I am no lady.” She could feel heat rising to her cheeks, but she stood her ground.

Shoving past the nobleman, she gave them a practiced smile. None of the men she knew came to her defense, but Maxwell was the only one that had seemed uncomfortable at the turn of their conversation. “I will have you know that I am more than capable of taking care of myself.” Very cautiously she folded her arms, despite how much her ribs ached.

“She’s proven herself as capable as any man I have ever met,” Drake said curtly, not quite meeting her eyes. He directed his stare back to the others’ – half of them wearing dubious expressions as he continued speaking. “I could not imagine us winning last night without her efforts to turn the tide. It isn’t –”

“I can speak on my own behalf Sir Drake.” Robyn snapped. She jutted her chin. She was annoyed that he refused to meet her eyes – even more annoyed that there had been nothing in his stare to give her any insight as to what he was thinking. Nothing to confirm that he really did carry her back here.

Trying to force thoughts of him out of her head, she allowed her eyes to drift at the rest of the men she recognized. Owen, Balfey, Maxwell – and then the rest of them.

““Yes, I am a woman.” There was nothing in the term for her to deny. She enjoyed being a woman. “But that is not all I am.” She dropped a hand to her hip. “I handled myself with a sword better than most of the men last night,” she sneered the word at them, “and first and foremost I’m an adventurer. One of the best.” There were murmurs among them until she prattled on. “That alone comes with risks and danger in the likes of which most of you cannot possibly even imagine.” She stumbled a little when she stepped forward and waved off Maxwell’s outstretched to stand upright.

She could do that herself.

The room was quiet.

Robyn ignored Balfey’s apologetic stare as she closed the final few feet in reaching the large table stretching between them all.  Owen had remained decisively silent as well but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. And Drake – the knight still refused to look at her; the only indication of him hearing was the sudden clenching of his jaw. “Now, what is the plan?”

The room erupted all at once.

Voices tried to talk higher than one another. Sarcastic laughter filled her ears. Robyn could even hear the exchange of foul language, harsh enough to scald her cheeks. She understood now why they hadn’t heard her in the hall. They were too busy trying to talk over each other.

Maxwell glanced helplessly at her, “this is what we’ve been dealing it with for the past two days.” He grumbled.

“The past two days?!” She gaped at him. “I have been unconscious for the past two days?!” She exclaimed, stepping closer to him. Heavens.

He nodded grimly. “I did not see you on the battlefield until Drake had carried you back…you were…you needed medical attention. The battle…it could have killed you.” His eyes slid down to where she had been without thinking – hugging her stomach.  He didn’t want to linger on such things – her wound nearly had killed her. “How is it? How you feel?” He paused as a tiny smile flitted across his face. “I patched you up myself.” He said proudly.

“Oh! Why thank you,” she managed a meek smile. “It seems you are as kind as you are handsome Maxwell.”

“It is an honour my lady.” A small blush travelled to his neck and he coughed. “Unfortunately, I cannot take all the credit –  it was Drake that brought you in. I almost had to struggle with him to let you go.” Concern flickered in his eyes, and Robyn tensed. “He hadn’t explained what happened, but we could all tell you were in bad shape.”

At hearing his name, Drake’s eyes skimmed across to them and Robyn’s pulse jumped. She tried to catch the other man’s eyes, but the knight quickly looked away and seemed too invested in arguing with someone else to pay her any attention. “Funny, he doesn’t strike me as a man that cares.” She sniffed. “He has a funny way of showing it.” She murmured to herself.

“Hmmm?”

“Oh, nothing.” She glanced back at Maxwell, lowering her voice. “But…” she lowered her voice, “….I don’t understand, where is Sparrow?”

“They’re safe. Locked up in the dungeons while Owen decides their fate. They needed some…special medical attention before though,” Maxwell frowned thoughtfully, “they suffered from several burns but didn’t want to tell us what happened.” His eyes slid back to Robyn, “I didn’t want to presume….anything between you two.” He gave her a smiled filled with sympathy. “But I imagine whatever it was, it couldn’t have been easy.”

Robyn looked away.

Maxwell knew she was a mage – but he did not know the extent of her powers. She didn’t even know herself and she was uncomfortable with the idea of opening herself up for such a discussion. “Nothing happened,” she answered finally. “One of our men’s torches- it must have burned them.”

He frowned faintly, “but they were…”

“I wouldn’t spend too much time dwelling upon it,” she hurried quickly. “Sparrow has been dealt with and that is all that mattered.” She hoped it would be enough to deter his prodding for now – she did not want to think about it. She couldn’t anyway, without guilt accompanying her.

She turned her attention back to the flow of conversation. The unfamiliar men had strange symbols – something that had gone unnoticed by her until now. Until she in front of them and had a better chance of analyzing every pattern.

Robyn understood now that it was their house sigils – a sign that they were of some nobility and not by any means, random.

“You must realize how dangerous being here tonight is for us.” One of the men broke through her fascination. He was taller than the rest of them, handsome too – with his rugged features that belonged to someone who spent some time in the forest instead of a village. His thick midnight hair was pulled back from his face and he held a certain charm to him that Robyn could not explain.

He had been the one to dismiss her and despite his distracting features, Robyn immediately had trouble fighting the very urge to ignore him. She needed to understand what was going on.

“One word from one of Neville’s spies could travel back to him. That would absolutely end us.” The man continued, folding his arms.

“We knew the risk of meeting tonight Caspen.” Another leader grumbled; twice the age of younger man. He was shorter than him as well, stocky with a slight protruding stomach over his slacks. He ran his thick fingers running absently through his grey-streaked chestnut hair. He frowned at Owen. “But it is a risk we all take, and why should we take it without there being something in it for us?”

The third stranger slammed a hand on the table, forcing the others to glance at him in dismay. His thick eyebrows were his only distinguishing feature from his pale complexion. He was lanky, almost frail-looking as though he was on the cusp of death. His body slightly trembled as he spoke. “What Caspen and Hannon refused to realize is that this affects us all!” He glared at them. “Willesden, Pinevale, Gemlock and Morrinson. Spies or not.”

“We have already ferreted and dealt with most of Neville’s spies,” Owen reassured them. “The last of them has been imprisoned.”

“How can you know that?” Hannon demanded. “How can you know that with absolute certainty?” His gray eyes were like looking into the eye of a storm, the way they radiated with anger made Robyn want to sink into the floor.

“Because,” Owen emphasized, “the head of them is in our dungeons.” His eyes looked to Robyn and the rest of her companions. “I believe you call her Sparrow?”

“Them.” Robyn corrected immediately. “And yes,” as all eyes suddenly on her, she shrugged. “I knew Sparrow long before they had a foothold in Willesden, but even I was unaware they were making deals with Neville.” She sighed, “Sparrow had never been the sort to stay too long in one place, we were always similar in that way.” She shook her head as a distant memory of them plagued her thoughts. It made her angry; and guilt clawed at her – eating away the idea of them being as close as they could have been without considering each other friends. “I wondered why they were still in the northern lands. And now with everything that’s happened…well, now I know why.”

They stared at her. Owen was the only person that seemed satisfied enough of her answer. “We interrogated Sparrow after the battle, she – they with much reluctance had told us what we think we needed to know.” He trailed his fingers across the last town – the only town that did not answer their call for an alliance.

Bloomingdale.

It confirmed his suspicions. This was the heart of it all, where it all began and where it would all end. He believed this was where Neville operated - where. “This is where Sparrow believes Neville has relocated to.” He traced his fingers across the town. He hadn’t been there for months because of the raids, and now he imagined it to be different under Neville’s influence. “It makes sense – how did we not see it before?”

“We weren’t looking for it. We were too busy trying to keep our heads down.” Morrison’s leader, Gavin muttered.

Hannon stroke his beard. “You forget, none of us have ever been inside enemy territory.”

Robyn shifted uncomfortably. This was her chance to say something. She had indeed been inside Neville’s manor, something she was certain very few had ever done – and survived.  

Hannon grunted impatiently. “And what would you have us do? Send our men inside to kill him against his army? That would be suicide.”

“It wouldn’t be.” Owen shook his head. “This is too important to send only our men. We would have to go with them.” He looked to Gavin for confirmation.

Slowly, Gavin nodded, earning a scowl from his other companions. “We would be found even before we could take one step into Bloomingdale.” Hannon accused.

Caspen murmured in agreement. Even Balfey seemed to hesitate in taking Owen’s side.

A tic in Owen’s jaw worked. “I will not have all the sacrifices our people have made be in vein. I won’t allow it to mean nothing.” He said stubbornly. “We go to Bloomingdale and we storm the manor.”

The room erupted all at once again.

Caspen and Hannon were yelling that Owen’s rise to power had made him mad, Gavin looked torn between the other leaders – Balfey had remained at Owen’s side – yet no one was the voice of reason for it all. They were all too busy; yelling at each other to see another option.

“This is stupid!”

“You cannot hope that your foolish plan for the old mayor would work here!”

“Luck was on your side the last time. This is suicide.”

Maxwell had decided to stay out of it from nearly the moment they had joined into their meeting. He wondered if Bertrand would have done the same – or perhaps would he have done more? Would he have seen this as an opportunity? He frowned.

His eyes flitted back and forth between all four leaders, wondering if this was how the towns had always operated. And if it were, it was no wonder someone from the outside had swooped in and turned them against each other. This…..this would get them all killed.

The nobleman did not need another vision to tell him that.

From beside him, Maxwell could visibly see his friend growing more irritable by the second.

Drake’s jaw was set tighter than he had ever seen. And the knight was tapping his arms insistently when the chaos had broken out.

“Alright, that is enough.” Drake hadn’t meant to interrupt them but his voice had gone sharp and cut through the thick of it. He froze for a moment, taking a deep breath as all eyes settled on him. “We cannot hope to defeat one man, if we can so easily fight against one another.” He growled.

“And what would you know of our disputes?” Caspen asked, shooting the knight a glare. “You are an outsider.” He spat the words at him.

“And even an outsider can tell that this will all lead to ruin.” Maxwell joined in. “When Owen stormed the mayor’s house, he had begun to set in motion a series of events that will unfold with or without your compliance.” He glanced at each and every one of them, emphasized each and every word the more he spoke. “You cannot go back into a life of pretend. You cannot change time, the same way that I cannot stop it from coming true.” He realized the own truth in his words, even before he said it. He often saw his talent as curse. An ill-begotten thing to destroy House Beaumont forever. But now, here was his chance to put it to good use.

He wanted to help.

By the time he glanced at the townsleaders in front of him; most of them had seemed taken aback by the sincerity behind his words.

But Drake understood.

The knight had nodded encouragingly at Maxwell to continue and even Robyn was smiling hesitantly at him. “Whether or not you want to, Neville will eventually hear of what transpired at Willesden.” Maxwell took the sign of their encouragement as a token of good faith. “He will send more men to all your towns to ensure your complacency. And I assure you, the Neville I knew will not be kind. His wishes will not be something you want to do. He will want to snuff out any resistance left in Willesden even if that means destroying the entire rest of the town.” Maxwell traced his own fingers over the entirety of the northern land they shared. Dozens and dozens of acres – all under Neville’s control.

The thought alone was terrifying.

The leaders gaped at him.

Maxwell understood how politics worked. Even outside of Cordonia, he imagined it was not very different. The nuances of fighting the enemy after spending extensive years studying tactics – he understood it very well. “He will keep taking until there is nothing left to take.”

The room grew quiet again.

No one seemed to have an easy answer to Maxwell’s challenge.

Caspen was staring off into a corner of the room, Gavin and Hannon had shared uneasy glances and even Owen seemed lost in his own thoughts once more; as though trying to find a fault in Maxwell’s words. No one had an easy answer.

“I know a way in.” Robyn interrupted the silence.

All eyes turned to her.

She gulped and forced the abrupt lump she felt growing inside her throat back. “I have been inside his manor. I know exactly what it looks like on the inside, how many guards he’ll have stationed from the last time I was there.” She could already see it plainly inside her head as if it had been waiting for her all along. “If you need a guide, I’m your woman.”

For the first time in the towns history, they were left to entrust their lives with strangers. People who had always been different and had difficulty getting along had to find the strength and complacency to listen to outsiders. And no one had risen to protest the outsiders’ words.

Instead, Caspen’s eyes had lingered on her. Interest flickered there before he curtly nodded. “I agree.”

You do? Robyn’s shoulders sagged slightly with relief.

“You do?!” Hannon had spoken the words out-loud.

“I do,” Caspen inclined his head. “An adventurer has knowledge the rest of us do not possess, I am sure she would have found a way inside there without getting caught.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “and I know a way inside Bloomingdale without risking attention to ourselves.”

They all blinked up at him - even Hannon seemed to look completely shocked.

“What?” A slight dimple appeared as he smiled. “We do not share everything.” He drew everyone’s attention towards the map, his fair-skin moving swiftly to trace patterns. “I suppose this is a good time to admit I also have spies. Spies that Neville had dealt with, but they did pass information down to me before their untimely deaths.”

“You bastard!” Hannon glared at him.

“There are tunnels that under all our towns,” his fingers traced alongside the river they all shared until stopping by the lake. “They all meet together at some point and end up here.”

“We already knew that.” Gavin grunted.

“But what you do not know is that I have a map of when and where they meet, as well as where all the tunnels go.”

Hannon and Gavin frozen. Owen looked impressed. “Why did you think to keep such information to yourself?” Hannon snapped. He brushed off Gavin’s attempt to touch his shoulder in comfort. “Is this not something you should share with the rest of us?”

Caspen shrugged. “I did not see a reason to before. Our paths did not cross and I must ensure my people’s safety first.”

“You forget your place!” Hannon snapped, pointing a finger at the younger man. “If your father was still alive, he would never –”

The colour of the lake, his eyes were nearly piercing as they met the older man’s stare. “You forget that I am not my father.” He said tightly, “and I do not uphold the same traditions he did.” He glanced back at the rest of the room whom for all intense-purposes still seemed to be recovering from his revelation. “If we do take the tunnels, we should bring a small army with us. Too big and it will catch too much attention, but too small –”

“ – will likely end up with all of us dead.” Drake finished for him.

“Oh, precisely.” Caspen glanced up at him and grinned. “I like you. You’re smarter than the rest of this lout.”

The other leaders stiffened and Drake raised one sardonic brow at him.

“Yes,” Caspen shifted his gaze back to the map. “We would need a small group to successfully make it through the tunnels and back above ground.”

“And where exactly do these tunnel lead?” Robyn tried to push her way closer, eyeing the map balefully. “Where on the surface will we end up?”

“Unfortunately, not close enough.  Somewhere within the village square.” Caspen sighed, pursing his lips. “Which is why we require a small force to begin with.”

“And disguises.” Maxwell added.

Capsen raised an eyebrow at him.

“We can’t just walk in ourselves,” Robyn interjected, rolling her eyes. “I would think the leader of an entire town would realize that. Neville is a paranoid man, he probably has at least a couple mercenaries constantly patrolling. We need to be dressed as someone else, in case we do get caught we have a cover as what brings us to Bloomingdale.”

“Ah,” He scrutinized her for a moment before grinning.

“This is all fine and good,” Hannon interrupted impatiently. “But are you truly suggesting we disguise ourselves?”  

They all fell into silence, each seeking an answer but not quite finding one that could work. Soldiers were out of the question, it would raise too many questions and Robyn imagined that if they had posed as mercenaries, they would need Sparrow. They could pose as travelling merchants. It would risk Neville’s interest, but it didn’t seem as though it would have made them a direct threat. “Travelling merchants.” Robyn said, glancing up at them. The answer had been right in front of them this entire time. “We should disguise ourselves as travelling merchants.”

Caspen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Owen kept quiet but his eyes flickered over her with mild interest as though he approved of her plans. Both Balfey and Gavin seemed more likely to agree as well but it seemed Hannon needed the most convincing.

“This will never work.” Hannon huffed. Folding his arms, he shook his head vehemently. “He would spot us.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Caspen interrupted. “Neville’s greed for coin often overrides his judgment. Our latest tariffs more than proves that. And who else would go unnoticed in Bloomingdale other than merchants? This will work.”

“At least until Neville wants to speak to us himself.” Hannon snorted. “Who is to say he will allow us even under our rouse to walk thoroughly through time.”

“This is why the tunnel will come in handy,” Drake tapped a finger against the entry of Bloomingdale. He had been quiet this entire time, mulling with his thoughts up until now. He was very familiar with reconnaissance and spying on the enemy. Although he would have preferred a direct approach, he understood the secrecy worked to their advantage. “The tunnel will allow us to move freely enough,” his fingers followed the path into Bloomingdale. “Are most of the mercenaries stationed near the entrance of the village?”

Robyn nodded. “Yes, from what I can remember. He seems to put a majority of his soldiers at the gates and less than a dozen anywhere else.” She pinched her brow, “I think the square may have a few as well.

“Good.” Drake released a sigh.” This tunnel seems to cut right through the main force then. We will mostly be under their noses.”

“Mostly?! Mostly?!” Hannon scowled. “That is no guarantee.”

“There are no guarantees in any of our circumstances Hannon.” Gavin said gravely, “the most we can do is try to survive and do the best for our people.”

Hannon fell into silence. Seconds ticked by as the others exchanged cautious glances. Then they were all agreeing at once each recognizing this as a rare opportunity to change their current predicament – each understanding they were risking their lives for something that could end up destroying them. Murmurs and nods were their reply to an unspoken question. It gave Drake newfound hope. Perhaps there was a way to save these people yet.

“Then it’s settled then.” Caspen clapped his hands together. “We move tomorrow, near midnight.”

-

They had an entire day to prepare. An entire day of prepping for the worst. An entire day of finding the appropriate clothing and developing cover stories in case they became separated. It was gruesome task to undertake and by nearly the end of it, they had felt time burdening them.

The clock would strike soon for there time to start and keeping the mission as covert as possible was the only way they could ensure their own future, their success.

Robyn was squinting at the unfamiliar clothes. She had warn clothes loose fitting enough to hide her figure and she tugged a dark brown cloak over her head to obscure most of her face. She couldn’t imagine anyone being able to recognize her with a quick glance.

She only hoped it would be enough.

She caught Drake on their way to meet with everyone else.

He hadn’t greeted her, rather he looked away all too quickly before she had the chance to greet him.

Feeling a little unnerved by her behaviour, she had reached a hand out to stop him before they were almost out of the hall. “Okay,” she took a deep breath. “I think I’ve waited long enough. What did I do?”

Drake’s face remained impassive as he reluctantly met her half-curious and half-desperate stare.

Usually, he didn’t hesitate to curl his lip at her or berate her about magic in a way that made her feel small. However, ever since that night – he had been avoiding her like a plague. She knew it. He knew it. There was no denying the unwavering truth when it was staring right in front of them.

“I…” he averted his eyes, jaw clenching. “We need to find the others.”

“And we will,” she stepped in his direction, cutting off his nearest exit.

He went ramrod stiff.

“Just as soon as you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” She said, jutting her chin out at him. “I’m starting to even miss your usual magey insults.”

“I am not ignoring you.”

“Yes, you are.” She insisted.

A tic worked his jaw. “I don’t know what you mean. Now if you’ll excuse me –” He tried to no avail to move swiftly past her, however she stepped with him – blocking his view.

“You may be perfectly fine with lying to yourself Sir Drake, but I do not do that.” Her eyes were dancing in its familiar golden hue. She couldn’t understand why it was so important to her, not at the time. All she wanted was their familiar banter – and all he gave was a cold shoulder ever since that night. “Is it because you saw me –”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Drake said sharper than he intended. His voice had shocked them both, its hard edge was enough to make him almost growl the words at her.

“Well that’s too bad.” She released a sigh, her eyes searching his. “Is it because you’re afraid of me now?” She hated that her voice was shaking, she hated that it suddenly struck her how much she didn’t want him to be afraid of her. “Did my magic scare you too?” Because it terrified her. It terrified her how much she always had.

Drake blinked down at her. He had been scared in the beginning – but it was nothing compared to how scared he had been for her safety. And the depth of how much was enough indication for him to shrug her off. It was not often Drake cared for anyone – and while Liam had always been an exception to the rule, this – her – he could not allow himself to make anyone else an exception to his rules.

And yet, staring down at her – he felt something compelling him to reassure her. As he watched those dark brown eyes of hers grow downcast, he wanted nothing more than to release the tension in the air by admitting he wasn’t. He should be – but Drake did not feel afraid anymore.  “I should go.” He turned to leave but paused when he felt her small fingers on his arm.

“Drake, wait please.”

The sudden desperation and need in her voice stopped himself from jerking his arm away. Instead he waited without looking at her. Looking at her would have been his undoing.

“I can’t remember everything from that night…” She begun slowly, “but I do remember being afraid of…myself. I remember thinking that the magic I had would consume me.” She shuddered at the thought. “So, I understand why you would be scared of me.” She dropped her hand then, hugging herself. “I would be too.”

No matter how much she tried, Robyn understood now what she had never been able to admit to herself before. There was a piece of her that was a monster. A piece of her that wanted to take control.

Very slowly, Drake turned to her. Although his eyes were unreadable, he didn’t waver from her stare. “I-I-” he was stammering, struggling to get the proper words he thought he needed from out his mouth. “I wasn’t afraid of you, not anymore.” He couldn’t believe he was saying it out-loud, but there it was – words that suddenly hung between them. “I was afraid for you.” His hands were moving now, shifting to grip her by the shoulders. “The moment I realized I lost sight of you – my first thought was to find you.” He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he spoke.

It felt so strange for him to admit it out-loud, even stranger how much he had wanted to. He was used to burying his thoughts, pushing them aside for someone else. What he was not used to, is seeing the woman in front of him stare at him with such softness – with such…need. She needed to hear him say that.

“And then I saw you fighting Sparrow…that burning glimmer of light…your magic...” He trailed off for a moment. He had never seen anything like it – something quite so terrifyingly beautiful. “And then you were falling – bleeding on the grass and I knew I had to reach you. I knew I had to save you.”

Robyn felt a lump in her throat. One that had no business being there as she listened to him talk. Could she believe it? Could she believe the strangeness filling her chest – was it possible that had meant something more? Could she believe  the sudden warmth in his eyes reflecting back at her? Could she believe a man that had spent so much time hating mages….might care about her?

She could feel his eyes watching her, weighing her reaction with the same amount of certainty as she was using to process his words. Truthfully, she didn’t know how. Instead, she said the first thing that came to mind. “It’s twice now that you’ve saved me.” She wanted to make a joke out of it, but it fell short. It died on her lips as his eyes suddenly flickered to her lips.

The corner of his mouth lifted into an almost smile, but his eyes still lingered on her lips. “We shouldn’t make a habit out of it.”

She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the same thing anymore. His eyes were darker, more intense than she had ever seen them before. Her breath caught.

There was almost something akin to a warning in his voice the moment he had spoken, but Robyn – Robyn did not care. She had never cared for warnings. Instead of listening to her better judgement, the part of her that knew better than to dally with someone who could do readily hate half for what she was – she listened to her heart instead. The part of her that was able to see past the hate and wanted the man underneath. And her heart was telling her very much to kiss him.

She rarely ignored her heart.

Without warning and before she could second-guess herself, Robyn tittered forward until she was able to dig the balls of her feet within the creaky floorboards and wrapped her arms around his neck.

She saw the flicker of shock in his eyes and surprise…before her lips found his.

And her world exploded.

She had felt power before, had felt magic stronger than any other force in her world coursed through her veins as though she was soaring on tendrils of pleasure and pain.

But this, this was even better.

When his response grew eager, after the hesitance, after the shock – the spark she had felt the moment their eyes locked for the very first time had threatened to consume her. Every nerve of hers’ came alive and his fingers dug into her shoulders with such fierceness that it left a searing burn she felt down to her very core.

For a man sorely locked tightly, he had a passion she never thought imaginable.

She couldn’t tell when her back had found the wooden wall; only that he pressed her heavily against it as his mouth roughly explored hers. She ran her fingers through his fine hair, tugging it when she felt him nip her bottom lip, uttering a soft sigh when his tongue found hers. It was the kind of spark she had never thought possible as she arched her back to meet his reverent kisses.

And when a groan left his lips; she thought her knees would buckle and give out from under her.

Drake never wanted to stop kissing her. He never wanted to stop ravaging her lips as his lips met hers again and again. It was as though every thought he ever had was suddenly filled with her – wanting her, needing her in a way he hadn’t thought possible as he kissed her with every breath he took. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone, and the sudden intimacy was driving him wild with lust.  His own hands were slightly shaking as they slid to her waist and he possessively pressed every length of himself against every length of her.

“Drake,” she gasped his name, like an unspoken plea that she wanted more.

He wanted more too. He scooped her high inside his arms, shifting his hips forward as her legs snagged around his waist. He couldn’t remember ever wanting someone as much as he wanted her.

Then all too quickly reality came crashing down.

The mage rebellion. The kidnapping. The fact that Prince Liam was still in dire need of recusing. The people of Willesden. And Neville.

Drake broke the kiss first.

And the abrupt sound of voices growing nearer with each passing second had caused the knight to let go of her completely, almost involuntarily allowing her to stumble forward until she regained her balance at the last second.

Drake blinked down at her in a daze, wordlessly his mouth had comically flown open. And then he was shaking his head clear, as though he had been surrounded by mists – yet in this case, heavy mists of desire.  

He staggered back, scrambling to place distance as much distance a she could between them until he could think with his brain again, instead of that other thing.  

Robyn’s cheeks were red as she tucked in her blouse. She was still trying to process what had just occurred between when the sound of voices grew loud enough for her to step back from him too – as far as her wobbly legs could take her.

Neither of them said anything for a moment.

He was looking at anywhere but at her, and she was still trying to find her bearings when the rest of their companions had finally found them.

They didn’t seem interested in questioning how far apart the two of them suddenly were in proximation of each other. Although, Maxwell’s eyebrows had quirked up in curiosity, he mercifully remained quiet.

Owen was the first to speak. His solemn eyes had forced them all back to the presence – the crippling reality they all faced that war was on the horizon. And yet, if they did this right, it could all be avoided. “It is time,” he said confidently. “It is time we take the fight to him.”

-