#The Purple Beast and the Blue Witch Verse

[awesomeuchuu]

@chibskimuses

These days had been way to long, curing cursed name bears together with Rinne. The lost of his arm with the beast and the blue witch.

He was glad they got a happy ending, but he could had saved the needed of having his arm healed back into one again, thank god he was a vampire and nothing else.

Getting back to the city was a travel, cart, train and train. Niki knew he would had time, and he was tired.

So he barely noticed when he looked outside and mountains, fields moved and moved again. Wah..

He was getting so hungry

He didn¨t want to fall asleep, nightmares had been haunting him since he almost got his true name cursed. Still he slipped.

Into a deep sleep, with the painful memories from his childhood and lost.

A scent caught his nose, one he had learned to found comforting, one he could place his trust in. It felt like Rinne-kun was hugging him, all he could do was clinging to the clothing, he mouth slightly opening to nibble on the piece of fabric

Yeah, Rinne was the first one to admit that the days had been taxing as all Hell and more, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with Kanata and that stupid brute he hung around with anymore.

And the whole deal with Him was over and done with as well. To think that He had been that close to breaking out of His prison... If Kanata had succeeded, everyone might very well be doomed right now. Thankfully... Things hadn't gone precisely to the Witch's plan.

Part of it was because of Niki. Niki who looked so pitiful right now with his missing arm and those deep shadows under his eyes. It was worrying, Rinne had to admit. Niki was a vampire, and still he didn't bounce back to full health faster than Rinne could blink. Well, of course, even vampires would get affected by something like this, and on top of it all, losing their arm.

Not that he pitied him. Of course he didn't. He only tucked him in with his jacket because... Because. It was disturbing his sensibilities to see Niki like this. That was all.

...And now what was he doing?

"Awake and hungry, are you? You're unbelievable."

[mysticandskepticmuses]

( VERSES. ) CARL HICKMAN.

BLOOD BLEEDS BLUE || NYPD VERSE. A WHOLE NEW WORLD || INTERPOL VERSE. BOTTOM OF THE BARREL || CARNIVAL VERSE. PALM OF HIS HAND || INTERNATIONAL CRIMINAL COURT VERSE. FOR BEAUTY IS FOUND WITHIN || BEAUTY AND THE BEAST VERSE.          set in gothic era; favored huntsman until his hand was decimated in a fight with a monster, retreated to castle and became surly and violent; an altercation with a witch ended up with him cursed to be the beast he had become on the inside.

BRINGER OF HEARTS || ONCE UPON A TIME VERSE.         the elite of the elite, huntsman that worked for the evil queen until he was injured in a duel.  seeking out someone with magic that can restore his physical abilities, regardless of the cost.

SEND IN THE CLOWNS || DC GOTHAM VERSE.         same basic history as canon with the exception of it being gotham police department that he worked / works for and it was a super villain that he was fighting with when he was hurt.  obsessed now, edging on becoming a vigilante to pursue the one responsible.

AGENTS OF CHANGE || SHIELD VERSE.       same canon history up til joining the ICC - was recruited into SHIELD instead.

AGENTS OF CHAOS || HYDRA VERSE.     same as canon history but after his injury he sank into a dark place, fuming and trying to turn vigilante against the man responsible for his injury.  while addicted to morphine, he was approached and agreed to join the ranks of HYDRA – his injury was repaired, somewhat, but still not enough to be 100% functioning, just enough that he can do most casual day to day things.  endured HYDRA brainwashing / training and now firmly believes that taking justice etc. into their own hands is the only way that the world will survive.

END OF DAYS || TWD / RESIDENT EVIL VERSE.        canon history up until the breakout.  has managed to survive, not for lack of close calls.  relies heavily on machete use, though can use handgun if it’s prepped / loaded by someone else.  has mostly been on his own, sticks with a group for a month or two before moving on, not having found any place / group that feels like home yet.

YOU WIN OR YOU DIE || GAME OF THRONES.       a member of the kingsguard under jaime, was grievously injured in the battle to reclaim the city from the mad king.  remains in an honorary position as a trainer and also serves as inquisitor / investigator when such skills are required as he is particularly skilled at getting people riled up enough to slip up and say something they shouldn’t.

FROM THE ASHES WE RISE || ORDER OF THE PHOENIX HARRY POTTER VERSE.     an auror until a duel with a prisoner attempting to escape injured his wand hand beyond repair, even with the magic at st. mungo’s disposal.  has since moved on to take a position as professor of transfiguration and wandless magic.  works diligently to undercut any of the actions of the death eaters that he can, also is a great legilimancer allowing him to read thoughts of suspected death eaters for information etc.

TO BE DETERMINED || DEATH EATER HARRY POTTER VERSE.       after an attack by an escaping prisoner, his wand hand has been shriveled, damaged, even with the magic healing abilities of the sisters at st mungos.  obsessed with finding the man responsible, becoming addicted to the potion that frees him from the pain of his injury and seeking some way to heal himself, no matter how or what, he fell slowly into the spiral of darkness, until he was recruited to join the death eaters.  skilled in legilimancy, he uses his position at hogwarts to scan the thoughts and minds of his students, searching out those disloyal to the Dark Lord to punish for their actions.

OUR PAIN THEIR PLEASURE || HUNGER GAMES VERSE.         a victor of the games some twenty years ago, he has served as sponsor, trainer and supporter to someone every year since.  he does not just choose those from his sector to support, but rather those that he feels have the best character and the most honor in each game.  still travels on the press tour now and then, still has the injury in his dominant hand that he sustained in the games.

CANT TAKE THE SKY FROM ME || BROWNCOAT FIREFLY VERSE.        injured during the war of serenity, he was one of the fortunate few that were medivacced out of the valley before the final massacre occurred.  bitter, angry, and with few options left, he has spent the last years hopping from crew to crew, occasionally working as a bounty hunter, mercenary, intelligence officer, whatever gets him by, so long as it’s got no connections at all to working for the purple bellies.

SAME SHIT DIFFERENT DAY || PD & FBI VERSE.         same history only he settled down in a position in say Forks, WA or was given the lead of a special task force for the FBI.  any police / special agency crossover that is not already listed.

IN THE DARKNESS CULLING || SITH WARRIOR STAR WARS VERSE.         recruited in his late teens, he was trained in the ways of the sith for many years before he struck out on his own, the falling out with his Lord ending in a disastrous injury to his dominant hand, but resolute, he has become equally capable with his off hand with blaster and lightsaber.  intent on tracking down his once master to end him once and for all, he serves no purpose other than his own desires.

WE SEE THE UNSEEN || SUPERNATURAL ET AL VERSE.

        a nypd cop, interpol, back again, live as it was going, until a showdown with a perp that was more than just human – undeniable, fangs, claws, horns – a creature in human skin.  suffering from one hand down and being conflicted between just how to handle the situation, it was all decided for him when nypd showed him the door for being ‘unfit for service’.  that’s okay, he decided, it left him time to find out what the hell had actually happened, what it was that he had actually been fighting.  took some time, some false starts, some true whackos before he found the right trail that would lead him to his life of becoming a hunter of all the things that go bump in the night.  he’s still on the fence about whether or not any of these things might be worth letting live, but he’s been lucky so far not to have to face that particular dilemma: his encounters thus far have been clear cut – kill or be killed.

[bloodofthecovenants]

Muse as a deity

RULES: Think carefully about your character and their development within their story. Fill out the chart and tag whoever you want! Multimuses, pick as many characters as you want! Just repost, don’t reblog. Don’t clog the dash, please.

Originally posted by soloprimarina

(Yes i know bede’s a legendary, So i’m pretty much fusing his normal and human verse for this)

Deity and or/ Demigod of: Ocean’s, Safe travel, Storms, Truth, Loyalty and Harmonic balance.

Associated with: Water manipulation, Psychic’s, Water witches, Kindness, Risk, Sacrifice, Loss, Parenthood, Fertility, Acceptance, Balance, Harmony.

Sacred stones/gems:  Agate, Amethyst, Ametrine, Apatite, Lolite, Onyx, Moonstone, Rose quarts, Rhodochrosite, Rhodonite, Bloodstone, Chrysocolla, Malachite.

Sacred animal(s):  In a way himself - The Sacred beast Lugia, Gyrados, Milotic, Dragonair, Sharpedo, Gorebyss, huntail. Lapras, Omastar, Omanyte , Tirtouga, Carracosta, Kabuta, Kabutops and various other sea creatures and those of flight.

Colors:  All shades of blue, Purple, White, Silver, Gold, Black, Pink.

Scents:  Salt on the breeze, Forests, The smell of a home, Hot water, Steam, Mist. Wet stone after a rainy day, Rain.

Accepted offerings / Ways to honor: 

Gemstones of association before a long cruise, Flowers to ask of safe passage, An item of a lost loved one to ask for acceptance. Something associated with regret to inquire of forgiveness and though unspoken, Even offspring are accepted of pokemon or human, Their fate lay unknown once laid to rest upon the altar of the god. But many seem to find the given up are happy. Given life anew with the Demigod. Finally, Lock’s of hair of a soon to be mother or someone wanting to be will guarantee a healthy child for days that follow.

Other facts (optional): 

Bede is often referred to as a goddess for Woman and those men who find this fact scornful and refuse to knowledge him often find sea travel treacherous and will have little luck in reaching their destination without casualty.

As opposed by his relation to harmony and balance, Bede while referred to as a god is more akin to a demigod, Sharing of Legendary and human blood. Nor’ really a god among mortals because he is both and neither.

Many still pray to bede’s mother even after she perished, These prayers go to bede now who took on her duties and symbolism as his own, Unlike many gods. Who go Unseen and unheard, There’s been many reported encounters of the godly being in the sea’s, Of times of peril. Even sometimes appearing in places of birth if the mother has left a plea for a blessing for the child in question.

Some mother’s have spoken of the god even helping them through the process when nobody else would (Single mothers most often!) and this has led to some choosing to go to the beach where his altar resides to bear their child’s life. Many speak of it being a very spiritual but relaxing process.

Tagged by: Nobody! i stole it from @heartbxnd

Tagging: Anybody who hasn’t done it yet! this was fun.

[ask-the-guardian-of-the-seas]

Muse as a deity

RULES: Think carefully about your character and their development within their story. Fill out the chart and tag whoever you want! Multimuses, pick as many characters as you want! Just repost, don’t reblog. Don’t clog the dash, please.

Originally posted by soloprimarina

(Yes i know bede’s a legendary, So i’m pretty much fusing his normal and human verse for this)

Deity and or/ Demigod of: Ocean’s, Safe travel, Storms, Truth, Loyalty and Harmonic balance.

Associated with: Water manipulation, Psychic’s, Water witches, Kindness, Risk, Sacrifice, Loss, Parenthood, Fertility, Acceptance, Balance, Harmony.

Sacred stones/gems: Agate, Amethyst, Ametrine, Apatite, Lolite, Onyx, Moonstone, Rose quarts, Rhodochrosite, Rhodonite, Bloodstone, Chrysocolla, Malachite.

Sacred animal(s): In a way himself - The Sacred beast Lugia, Gyrados, Milotic, Dragonair, Sharpedo, Gorebyss, huntail. Lapras, Omastar, Omanyte , Tirtouga, Carracosta, Kabuta, Kabutops and various other sea creatures and those of flight.

Colors: All shades of blue, Purple, White, Silver, Gold, Black, Pink.

Scents:  Salt on the breeze, Forests, The smell of a home, Hot water, Steam, Mist. Wet stone after a rainy day, Rain.

Accepted offerings / Ways to honor: 

Gemstones of association before a long cruise, Flowers to ask of safe passage, An item of a lost loved one to ask for acceptance. Something associated with regret to inquire of forgiveness and though unspoken, Even offspring are accepted of pokemon or human, Their fate lay unknown once laid to rest upon the altar of the god. But many seem to find the given up are happy. Given life anew with the Demigod. Finally, Lock’s of hair of a soon to be mother or someone wanting to be will guarantee a healthy child for days that follow.

Other facts (optional): 

Bede is often referred to as a goddess for Woman and those men who find this fact scornful and refuse to knowledge him often find sea travel treacherous and will have little luck in reaching their destination without casualty.

As opposed by his relation to harmony and balance, Bede while referred to as a god is more akin to a demigod, Sharing of Legendary and human blood. Nor’ really a god among mortals because he is both and neither.

Many still pray to bede’s mother even after she perished, These prayers go to bede now who took on her duties and symbolism as his own, Unlike many gods. Who go Unseen and unheard, There’s been many reported encounters of the godly being in the sea’s, Of times of peril. Even sometimes appearing in places of birth if the mother has left a plea for a blessing for the child in question.

Some mother’s have spoken of the god even helping them through the process when nobody else would (Single mothers most often!) and this has led to some choosing to go to the beach where his altar resides to bear their child’s life. Many speak of it being a very spiritual but relaxing process.

Tagged by: Nobody! i stole it from @heartbxnd

Tagging: Anybody who hasn’t done it yet! this was fun.

[moondonky]

Swimming

I'm not gonna say much.. its all propaganda, sensationalism.. and just straight ignorance.. both sides just scarred stoopid.. under half verse narratives, half false information.. take a Democrat and republican and combine there thoughts and beliefs and actions... what do u get???. A hypocrital evil piece of shit.. u get a devil, u get a demon u get a witch..... that is what purple is,, if u pick a side, ur a slave to the beast system.. its mind control.. wake up,, red pill blue pill.... fuk pills never pick from the options of a devil.. wake up wake up,, your leaders are psycopaths,, and cultists... satanists,, oo oo ha ha,, got u thinking like fucking rogan ass monkeys

[limejuicer1862]

*

My goal in life is the destruction of 5G masts. I cut my sandwich into triangles as a lower-middle class pretension. Back outside, my window, one time, a cream room, a view of the street’s antenna. The problem with David Lynch is how he makes too much sense. Back in the simulacrum, a boy, my age, rangers in North America, first as tragedy, then as… ironing out our balaclavas, filling out our milk bottles; backpacks unattended on park benches, on the bus.

*

A page of Baudrillard, hides the truth to view witnesses fraying little by little into ruins, discernible ruined empire, rotting carcass of the soil double ends simulation, this fabled second-order no longer that of a territory, no longer saturated, a hyperreal map one must

return without origin, shreds unusable a questionable sovereign difference – the charm abstraction, the coextensivity of poetry, the representation produced no imaginary. Operational, in fact, no longer memory radiating synthesis, no space without atmosphere, no worse

curvature. Imitation, nor duplication; leaving room for simulated liquidation.

-Alex Mazey

.the title changes.

there is too much interference things could be left alone things were alright anyway

the battery is low yet plugged in the radio buzzes.

things are distorted

so i did what he says, whilst running up and down the stairs.

source to av, only there aint no av, not on that one anyhow.

press my scart lead, that is probably it.

press the sky button, the sky does not respond.

we still has television snow.

mine are bifocal and can distort gently if i concentrate poorly on the centre i have had help a while grateful at least that i can see unlike some of my family

yesterday I watched a documentary about monkeys

-sonja benskin mesher

The new starboard

Our larvae split their skin in the signal-fry, warmed over by the wire-witched currents of one filigree moon in a hundredweight sky

and if we no longer see the stars how do they counsel a chart for a new grub, or pull a blood’s spirit-iron toward the dissolving north

and if we no longer feel these waves how may we know our own water, what deeps us for the giddy bubble of this sailing. And I know

there are rocks here still, they make chimneys of it to vent everything we can’t burn railing sparks against the sky- silver that meshes none of our tides true

and it will rain hot tonight, the sizzle pelting the new hatchlings

-Ankh Spice

Of Forest And Stick

Foe forest, faux forest fee-fi-fo forest. Where giants hurl their broken stories from broadcast heaven to stone cast ground. Real, this least of things.

Inarticulate metal arms pluck down your dreams, to place within the flakes of soul slow dying desiccation.

Sick insects wave. These metal poles sway clamped to roof and breast.

All point as one, their martyr fingers show. As minds walk psychotic in their circular days.

To stars and planets that orbit our night sleep late night drunk deep on their celestial milky ways.

Antennae wave hello. Behind smudged glass walls as we sit and stare into this aquarium hell of our own making.

As we spread across our furniture of forked cartons, plastic and messy despair We start to take on our corrupt story.

https://thewombwellrainbow.files.wordpress.com/2020/05/of-forest-and-stick.m4a

© Dai Fry 4th May 2020.

Reception

Quiet the cluttered airways. Listen. Too many voices reaching skyward, Clamoring for reception, Propelling selfhood upward,

Destroys collaborative Synergy. And interference causes failure. After all, Man-made towers were only Ever meant to fall.

https://thewombwellrainbow.files.wordpress.com/2020/05/reception.m4a

-st

Every Stem Is

an aerial, antennae whose signal carries an image and a sound of growth and bloom.

Leaves are directors, flagellum, reach out, test the air and vibrations.

Listen can your hear the messages, or is it distorted,

image overlaid on image, sound overlaid on sound?

It processes fake news, phishing and cyber attacks. discerns real from false. scents and trails.

A filter bubble, an information sceptic decides what diminishes it, what makes it grow.

what makes it turn towards warmth, towards brightness.

More than a conduit.

-Paul Brookes

effluorescence

concrete flowerbed: aluminium amaranths dream of fecund earth

-Rich Follett

These gray structures loom Like a dead alloy forest A mill’s epitaph

-Carrie Ann Golden

The Arrival (EEN)

Blue eclipse sudden shudder silver vibrations strange sensations mauve hues silent screams shattered dreams rainbow screams black void bleak skies pink cries identity hides no way out seek beware who goes there wait stop where no here why there marble hush turquoise crush hide smile cry illusion confusion static wailing connections failing conscience melting blood moon a light alight powder dawn seek destroy rebuild regenerate no rescue failed sight emerald night pyramid flight incoming yellow tongue purple feast horrible sightings a drone atone leave us alone lavender glass chards charge cut chaos comet rush – Reverse

https://thewombwellrainbow.files.wordpress.com/2020/05/the-arrival-een-mp3.mp3

The Arrival (TWEE)

Falling earth new birth cosmic boom blast break away descend evacuate take position brace brave pathetic beast eject object reject investigate attack no way back hold blinding strobe light up get up move no room fire storm go swerve dive testing resting make haste chase erase record a face strange days delete reboot reverse rethink incoming homecoming survive surrender sharp solar bursts the thirst implosion ration succession orchestration new nation sinking earth toxic rebirth black hole tar soul screeching silence severed signals strange sour suns

https://thewombwellrainbow.files.wordpress.com/2020/05/the-arrival-twee-mp3.mp3

-Don Beukes

Bios and Links

-Alex Mazey

(b.1991) received his MA (distinction) from Keele University in 2017. He later won The Roy Fisher Prize for Poetry with his debut pamphlet, ‘Bread and Salt’ (Flarestack, TBA). He was also the recipient of a Creative Future Writers’ Award in 2019. His poetry has featured regularly in anthologies and literary press magazines, most notably in The London Magazine. His collection of essays, ‘Living in Disneyland’, will be available from Broken Sleep Books in October 2020. Alex spent 2018 as a resident of The People’s Republic of China, where he taught the English Language in a school run by the Ministry of Education. His writing has been described as ‘wry and knowing,’ with ‘an edge that tears rather than cuts or deals blows.’

Twitter: @AlexzanderMazey

Instagram: alexmazey

Here is my interview of Alex:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2018/12/18/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-alex-mazey/

-Rich Follett

is a High School English and Creative Writing teacher who has been writing poems and songs for more than forty years. His poems have been featured in numerous online and print journals, including BlazeVox, The Montucky Review, Paraphilia, Leaf Garden Press and the late Felino Soriano’s CounterExample Poetics, for which he was a featured artist. Three volumes of poetry, Responsorials (with Constance Stadler), Silence, Inhabited, and Human &c. are available through NeoPoiesis Press (www.neopoiesispress.com.)

As a singer-songwriter, Rich has released five albums of independent contemporary folk music. His latest. Somewhere in the Stars, is available at http://www.richfollett.com. He lives with his wife Mary Ruth Alred Follett in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, where he also pursues his interests as a professional actor, playwright, and director.

-Ankh Spice

is a sea-obsessed poet from Aotearoa (NZ). His poetry has appeared in a wide range of international publications and has twice been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. He truly believes that words have the power to change the place we’re in, and you’ll find him doing his best to prove it on

Twitter: @SeaGoatScreams or on Facebook: @AnkhSpiceSeaGoatScreamsPoetry

-Carrie Ann Golden

is a deafblind writer from the mystical Adirondack Mountains now living on a farmstead in northeastern North Dakota. She writes dark fiction and poetry. Her work has been published in places like Piker Press, Edify Fiction, Doll Hospital Journal, The Hungry Chimera, GFT Press, Asylum Ink, and Visual Verse.

-sonja benskin mesher

born , Bournemouth.

now

lives and works in North Wales as an independent artist

‘i am a multidisciplinary artist, crafting paint, charcoal, words and whatever comes to hand, to explain ideas and issues

words have not come easily. I draw on experience, remember and write. speak of a small life’.

Elected as a member of the Royal Cambrian Academy and the United Artists Society The work has been in solo exhibitions through Wales and England, and in selected and solo worldwide. Much of the work is now in both private, and public collections, and has been featured in several television documentaries, radio programmes and magazines.

Here is my interview of sonja benskin mesher:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2018/10/16/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-sonja-benskin-mesher/

-Samantha Terrell

is an American poet whose work emphasizes emotional integrity and social justice. She is the author of several eBooks including, Learning from Pompeii, Coffee for Neanderthals, Disgracing Lady Justice and others, available on smashwords.com and its affiliates.Chapbook: Ebola (West Chester University Poetry Center, 2014)

Website: poetrybysamantha.weebly.com Twitter: @honestypoetry

Here is my 2020 interview of her:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2020/04/08/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-samantha-terrell/

-Don Beukes

is a South African and British writer. He is the author of ‘The Salamander Chronicles’ (CTU) and ‘Icarus Rising-Volume 1’ (ABP), an ekphrastic collection. He taught English and Geography in both South Africa and the UK. His poetry has been anthologized in numerous collections and translated into Afrikaans, Persian, French and Albanian. He was nominated by Roxana Nastase, editor of Scarlet Leaf Review for the ‘Best of the Net’ in 2017 as well as the Pushcart Poetry Prize (USA) in 2016. He was published in his first SA Anthology ‘In Pursuit of Poetic Perfection’ in 2018 (Libbo Publishers) and his second ‘Cape Sounds’ in 2019 (Gavin Joachims Publishing). He is also an amateur photographer and his debut Photographic publication appeared in Spirit Fire Review in June 2019. His new book, ‘Sic Transit Gloria Mundi’/Thus Passes the Glory of this World’ is due to be published by Concrete Mist Press.

Here is my interview of Don Beukes:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2019/11/02/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-don-beukes/

-Dai Fry

is an old new poet. He worked in social care but now has no day job. A keen photographer and eater of literature and lurid covers. Fascinated by nature, physics, pagans, sea and storm. His poetry seeks to capture image and tell philosophical tales. Published in Black Bough Poetry, Re-Side, The Hellebore Press and the Pangolin Review. He can be seen reading on #InternationalPoetryCircle and regularly appears on #TopTweetTuesday. Twitter. @thnargg Web seekingthedarklight.co.uk

Audio/Visual. @IntPoetryCircle #InternationalPoetryCircle Twitter #TopTweetTuesday

-Paul Brookes

is a shop asst. Lives in a cat house full of teddy bears. His chapbooks include The Fabulous Invention Of Barnsley, (Dearne Community Arts, 1993). The Headpoke and Firewedding (Alien Buddha Press, 2017), A World Where and She Needs That Edge (Nixes Mate Press, 2017, 2018) The Spermbot Blues (OpPRESS, 2017), Port Of Souls (Alien Buddha Press, 2018), Please Take Change (Cyberwit.net, 2018), Stubborn Sod, with Marcel Herms (artist) (Alien Buddha Press, 2019), As Folk Over Yonder ( Afterworld Books, 2019). Forthcoming Khoshhali with Hiva Moazed (artist), Our Ghost’s Holiday (Final book of threesome “A Pagan’s Year”) . He is a contributing writer of Literati Magazine and Editor of Wombwell Rainbow Interviews.

-Mary Frances

is an artist and writer based in the UK. She takes a few photos every day, for inspiration and to use in her work. The images for this project were all taken in the last two years on walks during in the month of May. Her words and images have been published by Penteract Press, Metambesen, Ice Floe Press, Burning House Press, Inside the Outside, Luvina Rivista Literaria, and Lone Women in Flashes of Wilderness. Twitter: @maryfrancesness

-James Knight

is an experimental poet and digital artist. His books include Void Voices (Hesterglock Press) and Self Portrait by Night (Sampson Low). His visual poems have been published in several places, including the Penteract Press anthology Reflections and Temporary Spaces (Pamenar Press). Chimera, a book of visual poems, is due from Penteract Press in July 2020.

Website: thebirdking.com.

Twitter: @badbadpoet

Here is my interview of James Knight:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2019/01/06/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-james-knight/

-Sue Harpham

is an admin worker, currently not in work Married, 2 sons. Loves poetry and words. She considers herself a writer of scribble rather than a poet. She has written a novel and is using her spare time to finally get it published (self-publishing) which has been an ambition of her for the last 10 years.

Welcome to a special ekphrastic challenge for May. Artworks from Mary Frances, James Knight and Sue Harpham will be the inspiration for writers, Alex Mazey, Ankh Spice, Samantha Terrell, Dai Fry, Carrie Ann Golden, sonja benskin mesher, Rich Follett, Don Beukes and myself. May 5th. * My goal in life is the destruction of 5G masts. I cut my sandwich into triangles as a lower-middle class pretension.

[winniethepoohx]

JABBERWOCKY.

in which the jabberwocky has always been the biggest mistake wonderland has ever known, despite being a mistake that was made more than once. the second time around, however, was a bit more mistaken than the first. alternatively, how draco was created and what exactly he was created from.

all across wonderland, it is well-known that the jabberwocky and the vorpal blade are inherent enemies.

in an attempt to make a sword, fit for the best of the white queen’s soldiers, a horrendous dragon was created alongside the weapon. forged from the very same purple flames that this weapon was made from, the dragon went hand-in-hand with the sword; the dragon was the only thing that the sword could kill, the sword was the only thing that could kill the dragon.

the dragon was called ‘THE JABBERWOCKY’ and the sword was called ‘THE VORPAL BLADE’.

ALICE SLAYED THE JABBERWOCKY. O, WHAT A FRABJOUS DAY!

little did alice know that the very same jabberwocky that she slayed was to be brought back to life in order to be sent to the ISLE OF THE LOST.

little did alice know that not long after her own jabberwocky was locked away, a NEW jabberwocky would be brought out to play.

the vorpal blade was a relic, kept untouched within the pearl-white palace that was marmoreal.

the sword, made with the intent of belonging to the best of the white queen’s soldiers, had not been used in years. it had slayed the jabberwocky. its job was done. it was finished.

a NEW sword was to be made, fit for the best of the white queen’s soldiers. this time, though, the sword would come alone, as opposed to hand-in-hand with a horrendous dragon. this time, the sword would be made correctly. this time, the ritual would be done right.

that was the INTENTION.

wonderful blacksmiths, the best in all of wonderland, had taken up the task of creating this new sword. with the use of enchanted metal, magic jewels, and a blessed ritual, these blacksmiths were to create a sword even more remarkable than that of the vorpal one.

beneath the ground that once was salazen grums, the two blacksmiths got to work with making the blessed sword, because there was no better place to perform such a powerful ritual than beneath the ground of what used to be the most hate-filled city in all of wonderland.

“this incantation seems awfully familiar, don’t you think? i do think, i do think! it sounds awfully familiar and i do not like it so ...” paytyn, the shorter of the two blacksmiths, rambled on, frowning deeply as he read over the incantation that they were to be reciting in order to bless the flames which would be used to create the sword.

“familiar? not familiar! how familiar? not at all!” audi, the taller of the two blacksmiths, exclaimed, continuing to go about with lighting the flames. “what colour should the flames be, dear paytyn? what colour? what colour? i must know!”

“oh, oh, oh! well ---” the shorter man began, quickly unraveling a scroll and looking it over. “well, well, well ... oh! here it is ... it says ...” he squinted at the smudged writing. “it is smudged, but it says --- PURPLE! the flames are to be a vibrant, neon purple! you must make them as such, dear audi! make them that purple! make them, make them!”

“vibrant, neon purple! to bless the flames and make them purple, so we can use the enchanted metal to make a wonderful sword!” audi sang out happily, going about with lighting the flames in the fire-pit made entirely from rubies.

the flames started out as a dull red. that was, until audi began reciting the incantation and paytyn began adding the necessary elements to the flames --- the blood of someone with a pure heart, the tongue of someone with a foul mouth, three spoonfuls of wishful thinking, two pinches of time, and a spoonful of dirt from the red desert.

from red, to orange, to yellow, to green, to blue --- the flames went through these colours about a dozen times before they finally glowed the vibrant, neon colour that the two blacksmiths had been striving for: PURPLE.

“there it is! oh, there is our purple!” audi shouted over the roaring that was coming from the fire. “paytyn, dear paytyn, shall i go ahead and finish reciting the incantation? i have just this last bit left!”

“do go ahead and finish with it, dear audi,” paytyn said, "then, our ritual will be complete and we may go about creating the sword! i shall prepare the enchanted metal and blessed jewels ---”

as audi recited the last verse of the incantation, the roaring from the fire grew louder as the flames grew brighter. paytyn rushed over, a small, experimental block of sparkly, silver metal in one hand and a single silver jewel in the other.

“audi, have you finished with the ---” the shorter man began to ask, though the end of his sentence fell from his tongue when his eyes fell upon the violent flames. his jaw dropped, just as the small block of metal and the single jewel dropped from his hands, both of which ultimately fell into and were devoured by the neon purple flames.

the roaring that had previously been coming from the flames slowly turned into screeching. it was a type of screeching that was filled with pain, a type of pain that begged for relief. relief from what, the blacksmiths did not know.

the flames began to die down, no longer bright nor violent. they fell dull and calm, before dying out entirely.

left in the fire-pit, among a small pool of ashes, lie a tiny dragon, who was screeching at the top of its lungs. it thrashed around, eyes pressed shut as it tossed it’s head from side to side, trying to escape something.

“it’s a ...” audi began, though was cut off by paytyn clamping a hand over his mouth.

“we shall take it to the queen.”

“you’ve created a jabberwocky? another jabberwocky?” one of the queen’s knights spoke, giving the two blacksmiths an incredulous look. “oh, i do doubt the queen will be pleased to hear this ...” he slowly pushed the door open to the room that the queen was in, and paytyn and audi entered.

the discussion was short, simple and quick. it was straight to the point.

the newly-forged jabberwocky was a baby, still pure of both mind and heart. it had committed no crimes, done no wrong. the white queen ruled that the baby jabberwocky be sent to somewhere safer for it in the world, somewhere that could better take care of it than anybody in wonderland possibly could.

“she wants it to be taken care of ...” audi murmured.

“she wants it to be raised normally ---” paytyn muttered.

“... but it’s a jabberwocky?”

“and it must be treated as such.”

so, paytyn and audi convinced a naive few of the white queen’s soldiers into taking the baby jabberwocky to auradon, insisting that the best thing for the white queen and all of wonderland was that the dragon be locked away on the isle of the lost.

upon being met by the white queen’s knights and the baby dragon, queen belle and king adam requested a full explanation as to why the white queen had requested such a small and weak-looking dragon be thrown onto the isle, because, surely, it could do very little harm.

paytyn and audi had expected as much from the beauty and the beast, and they had prepared the knights with an elaborate lie, telling of how the white queen couldn’t stand to have such a beast in her land due to the trauma to herself and oh, so many other that the first one had caused

as much as belle and adam had wanted to protest, the law was the law.

the fairy godmother turned the baby jabberwocky into a human, just as she had turned the original jabberwocky into a human, as well.

from there on, belle, adam, and the fairy godmother had no idea what happened to the baby. he was then moved from their palace to be taken to the isle by those of the auradon police force.

a collar was placed around the baby boy’s neck, pulled slightly too tight as an attempt to silence his screeches, and a tag was placed on the collar: JABBERWOCKY, it read. it was only right that the elder jabberwocky be able to find the baby, after all, right?

the baby was taken to the isle of the lost, left at the other end of the magic bridge, just inside of the magical barrier, by a few of belle and adam’s best guards, no one even making sure that he was to be found and taken care of.

a certain, infamous sea witch was the one to find the baby boy. after deciding that she had no need for him, she didn’t want a son, after all, she read the tag around his neck and took him to the only jabberwocky she knew was around.

“pariah, i do believe i have something that belongs to you.”

“a baby? now, ursula, why would you bring me a baby? have you not, for years, been searching for a young babe to turn into a sea witch like yourself? here is your chance.”

“ah, see, i have been searching for a daughter. besides, if this babe’s tag reads true, i have even less interest in it than before.”

pariah erebus, the jabberwocky, stepped toward the sea witch and lifted the baby’s tag a bit to get a better look at it. he blinked at what it read. “oh, so you have brought me a PET,” he stated, only then taking the baby in his arms. “i do appreciate it, ursula. 'til next time.”

“yes, pariah, ‘til next time.”

stepping back into his dark home, pariah watched as the baby attempted to screech, though ultimately just gasped for the air that the too-tight collar prevented him from entirely getting. it was only then that the collar was removed, if only for the sake of pariah trying to discover just exactly what the baby truly was.

the tag that had been around the baby boy’s neck read true, pariah could tell as much, but there was something else to the boy, as well. something that made the elder jabberwocky feel threatened, because even when deprived of magic, he still had the instincts of a jabberwocky and he knew when a threat was around.

it wasn’t until the baby jabberwock opened his eyes that pariah pinpointed what exactly the threat was, however. as soon as he peered into the boy’s mismatched eyes, though, it became crystal clear.

the iris of the baby’s right eye was BRIGHT RED, just as pariah’s own two eyes were. the iris of the baby’s left eye, however, was a VIBRANT SILVER --- a silver that was far too familiar to the elder jabberwocky.

the silver of the baby jabberwock’s left iris mimicked that of the enchanted metal that had been dropped into the purple flames on the day of his creation. the silver of the baby jabberwock’s left iris mimicked that of the blessed jewel that had been devoured by the flames at the time he had been forged.

there was no doubt about it: this baby jabberwocky had not only been forged from the same flames as a vorpal blade --- he had been partially forged FROM a vorpal blade.

one of the two things that made up his being was the only thing that had the inherent ability to kill him.

he was made up of himself and his greatest enemy.

he would be much smaller and much weaker than pariah erebus, who would become his ‘father’.

as a human on the isle, the vorpal magic within him would be nearly entirely ineffective, though it would still be evident that there was something wrong within him.

as a human in auradon, the vorpal magic within him would become more evident, making him slightly weaker than before, though not making too much of an impact on him.

as a jabberwocky in auradon, as a jabberwocky anywhere, the vorpal magic within him would be fully awakened and would hit him with full force, doing what the vorpal magic does best --- SLAYING THE JABBERWOCKY.

he would be called DRACO.

he was FATED to be his own downfall.

QUICK RECAP:

first of all, this was lowkey a lot of info for one para i’m sOZ IF THIS WAS CONFUSING SJHDKHJSJHDKHJS

okay so!! in short!!

in a failed attempt at making a sword fit for the white queen’s best soldier, both the vorpal blade and the jabberwocky ( draco’s father ) were forged!!

draco’s father was slayed by alice, then brought back to life and sent to the isle --- all before draco was forged!!

in wonderland, two magical blacksmiths were given the task of creating a new sword for the white queen’s best soldier, seeing as the vorpal blade was only ever used once by alice!!

whilst attempting to make this sword, these two blacksmiths unknowingly used the same incantation that had been used to create draco’s father, ultimately creating draco as well!!

the blacksmiths took draco to the white queen to ask what they should do with him. the white queen ruled that he be sent somewhere safe, but they disagreed with her rulingso, without telling the queen, they sent draco to auradon and had some of the queen’s soldiers convince belle and the beast to send him to the isle of the lost.

he was turned into a human, labelled as ‘JABBERWOCKY’ and sent to the isle!!

ursula found him on the isle, saw the tag, and brought him to the original jabberwocky, aka pariah!!

it was pariah who realised that while draco was indeed a jabberwocky, he was also made up of key elements of the vorpal blade, which created vorpal magic within draco!!

EXPLANATION FOR HIM HAVING VORPAL MAGIC WITHIN HIM:

whilst draco was being created by the flames, one of the blacksmiths dropped the key enchanted metal and blessed jewel into the flames --- both of which are the key elements of the vorpal blade, and both of which, when working together, give the blade it’s vorpal magic.

with both the metal and the jewel having had been dropped into the flames that draco was forged from, they both partially made up draco as well --- ultimately working together to cause draco to have vorpal magic within him.

so, ultimately, draco is made up of the one thing that can kill him, WHICH IS WHY him turning into a jabberwocky at the ball fucked him up physically so much ( why he felt that burning sensation, why he coughed up blood, why he felt nauseous, etc.. ) and also why he is so much smaller and so much weaker than his father!!!

it is also the reason for one of his eyes being a vibrant silver --- bc both the enchanted metal and the blessed jewel were that same silver silver!!!

yeah even this is long bUT I HOPE IT HELPS IF THIS WAS CONFUSING <33333

[indurarinks]

the mardi gras conundrum

( 6. ) In these lands, time was of the essence. The annual festival of New Orleans, Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday), was nearly knocking on their collective doors, and any postponement to their operation could potentially lead to a disastrous fate; the one outcome Acheron and his horde of unruly Dark-Hunters fought against with every breath taken. As the promise of war brewed in plain sight, every wolf, witch and vampire grew restless. Volatile. Inevitably, the inescapable virus of paranoia spread in effective contamination of the mind, robbing every preternatural of simple common sense. The so-called 'free will' slowly became a myth, the Fates' ultimate karmic punchline. Without reason and lagging functionality of intuition, fear rose to rule and in complete submission to it, New Orleans' inhabitants remained on edge, constantly looking over their shoulders in expectation of Death's final kiss. In the throes of famine, Bonnie and the rest sank their teeth into the flesh of troubling doom that hovered over their heads with twisted glee. Its approach rolling onto them in similar tempo to that of Mardi Gras. At dusk, when the skies blended a plethora of shades in different extravagant intensities, Acheron met with the two of them at Kyrian's. He passed an amused grin at Kyrian when Bonnie joined them in his living room, her appearance still unkempt as she had just woken up. “Hello, Bonnie. Nice to see King Hothead over there hasn't scared you away yet. I trust you're up to full speed?” She nodded, halting by Kyrian's side. Natural morning grumpiness transcribed her state of mind while her fingers, plunged into messy curls, began their mission to tame undisciplined hair. “Yes.” Her voice still raspy from the lack of usage after a pleasant night's sleep. Or, more appropriately, day. She scarcely stayed awake through the entirety of the night. “Alright, kids. We have much to discuss, we must devise a strategy to unite all the factions in New Orleans before Mardi Gras. We don't have the luxury of wasting time. The Oracles have been going on and on about an ancient prophecy that will take place during this year's Mardi Gras.” “Let me guess. It went something like this, 'When the skies turn purple, and the earth bleeds in black, all that is will crack. To kill the great evil you seek, you'll have to find something unique.' Or some shit like that. I really hate Oracles. If I wanted to play mind games, I'd buy a Rubik's cube.” Despite the seriousness of their predicament, Bonnie laughed. He spoke in his own dialect of sarcasm with compelling charm. And she could never resist a man that made her laughter spring free so effortlessly. When both men shifted the direction of their collective gazes, training them on her, she nearly fell unconscious underneath their scrutiny in embarrassing desperation. Zipping her lips, she took reign of their previous conversation, steering into the avenue of seriousness. “I'll talk to Klaus today.” She said simply without foreseeing the storm her words would bring about. Minutes stretched into hours as their discussion took a heated turn. And much to Bonnie's chagrin, neither Dark-Hunter seemed willing to stand by her when she suggested she should be the only one approaching Niklaus Mikaelson. “Absolutely not.” A seething Kyrian interjected with unyielding resolution causing her temper to flare in return. She would have appreciated his concern, even teased him as she practically watched steam coming out of his ears and flared nostrils had it not been for blinding exasperation. With a parent's patience, Acheron brought a suggestion to the table where both committed to a compromise, successfully toning down their legendary bullheadedness. Sporting a smug smile, saturated with sheer satisfaction, Bonnie ventured into the Mikaelson's den. In a move that could only be attributed to a politician well versed in the world of argumentative disputes, Bonnie had conceded to bring Acheron and Nick (shame on Kyrian for submitting to the will of a mere plebeian, a man bred into the intricacies of kingdoms and its politics) to a game to wordplay. Kyrian's tempestuous protests still rang in her ears but victory was, ultimately, hers. Her demeanor darkened when Klaus came into view. Arrogance bled from him in his descent from his private chamber to the foyer. Like royalty. A King. And a fraudulent one at that, since no real blue blood run in his veins. “Bonnie Bennett. What a sight for sore eyes. Every time I see you, you look even more stunning.” Indisputable charisma oozed from every pore without effort or thought. It came as naturally as the dimpled smile he threw at her mercilessly. “To what do I owe this pleasure? I see you find yourself in fine company.” “We need to talk.” The urgency in her voice enough to convince him to take the serious route. “Alone.” The last bit came as a surprise to her escorts. Drenched in that cold water she had just poured over their heads, Acheron vehemently disagreed. “I don't think that's wise, Bonnie. Besides, Kyrian will most certainly go into cardiac arrest when he learns of this. What ever have we done to you, woman? You're single-handedly compromising my ability to procreate. Well, not mine. But definitely Nick's. He will have my balls for this.” “Relax, will you? He's not cutting your appendages. Or Nick's.” Nick Gautier had strangely been quiet through the entire interaction and the looming threat and visualization of the loss of his own body parts. Naturally, he chose the poorest moment to speak up. Leave it to the Cajun to be smart mouthed in the most inappropriate situations. “Mais, you best keep him leashed, cher. I ain't gonna die a virgin!” With a shake of head complemented by wicked amusement dancing in her eyes, Bonnie followed Klaus into his private study. Sitting behind a beautifully mahogany carved desk, he invited her to take a seat before him. “And what is it that has Miss Bonnie Bennett scared enough that she would face one of her enemies?” The light of humour did nothing to ease the sudden trepidation closing in on her. “Let's not do this dance and get straight to the point. I know of the war you wage, Klaus. And it needs to stop. You need to stop it. You have no idea of the devils you are welcoming into your midst if you don't swallow your damn pride. I came here, in good faith, to warn you of a much bigger predator that will easily have you and the Mikaelson clan destroyed along with every other supernatural creature living in New Orleans. For the sake of the city you claim to love so much, I advise you to heed my warning.” Feral rage spurred the beast within. Glowing yellow eyes threatened her in silence, every drop of venom meant to instill the fear of the gods in her but, despite initial apprehension, Bonnie Bennett was not easily scared, especially when the devil was one she had experience dealing with. Features untainted by any traces of the wraith of terror, her back leaned against the cushioned wood from the chair as her hands remained rested upon her knees. “You done?”

Aware of the potentially dangerous predicament she had brought upon herself, her eyebrows rose in curious, slightly condescending, inquiry. But even the devil knew which battles to pick from, and Klaus' mind offered him the memory of Bonnie Bennett standing above him, in her literal and metaphorical superiority —effortless regality bleeding from her, while he lied on the ground, squirming in lifetime's worth of pain. His primal instincts kicked into gear, taming the hungry urge to strike before further onslaught. A rare occurrence for a creature infamous for his beastly tendencies. Then, he stood and offered his hand to her. “Walk with me.” Side by side, the both of them navigated through the busy streets of New Orleans, consumed in somber topic that had brought her here as they threw valid argument after tenacious argument in a power display. Yet Bonnie's main concern never deviated from the city's wellbeing and its inhabitants. “Dammit, Klaus. Can't you see?” Frustration clawed at her, pushing her into the sea of near desperation to will this obstinate creature to recognize the evil lurking about. “This thirst for power will lead you nowhere if everyone is dead. Will you risk your family? I have seen these Daimons up and close and their tactics don't come with failure. They are highly trained and prepared for every scenario. Only these hunters, the Dark-Hunters, have the skills to fight them! You can't be this stupidly blind.” With a grunt, her foot slapped the ground beneath it as she folded her arms in supplicant comprehension. “At least say you'll attend this meeting the guys and I are organizing. If coalition between every faction fails, I'm afraid you're all condemned to a dark fate. Myself included, since I've stumbled into this.” Klaus' hybrid nature fed him with the same strange sense of obligation radiating off of the little witch, adamantly bewitching into agreeing to her terms. A newfound appreciation for the woman came into being, ancient wisdom complimented her every word as she presented her case. But he had another to worry about —his unborn child. A creature wrapped in innocence, unprepared for the vile world that would welcome him/her. And like any wolf expecting a cub, the urge to protect his offspring rose above any and all other priorities. In blinding urgency. He recognized the peril behind the loss of sight for other matters. “I hear you, Miss Bennett. But there is one thing that has escaped your knowledge. Hayley Marshall is carrying my child.” The drop of that bomb silenced her as every thread of thought forced itself into conjuring all explanations that could verify his claim. And as a Nature's servant, keeper of the power's balance, there was only one interpretation left. “You're innately a wolf. And wolves can procreate...” She mumbled, half awed, half terrified of the meaning behind the creation of this particular Nature's loophole. “It seems that is the most acceptable and valid explanation for this special child.” And for the first time, Bonnie understood. Her own drive to protect her loved ones brought her into dark roads more often than she could count. How could she judge a father for his instinct to protect his child? Even if blinded and imprisoned by paranoia's hands? Shit. No. Double shit. If she had doubts about her ability to convince him before, she definitely wasn't going to succeed now. “And these creatures you speak of are the least of my concerns for the time being, dearest Bonnie. There is one foe who lurks, her eyes set on my child. And I will not have her take my child from our arms over a bargain made thousands of years ago by my foolish mother.” Their escape from the Mikaelson's compound had been, without a doubt, monitored by the ever enigmatic Acheron Parthenopaeus who stood at the main entrance, large arms crossed over his chest. His eyes hidden behind the impenetrable black of unremovable sunglasses, he reminded her of a professional body guard whose job forbid any form of entertainment or exhibition of emotions. The ghost-like fury she sensed didn't rise from unfounded assumption though. It embraced her in a hold that nearly drove her to hide behind Rebekah as she joined the assembled group, flaunting a radiance that reflected the beams of sunlight kissing beautiful tresses that fell over her shoulders with elegant fashion. The two of them found themselves surrounded by Bonnie's chosen companions and Klaus' most trusted siblings. Elijah followed Rebekah with a very pregnant Hayley trailing behind him. Finally, another ventured toward their group, her gait unsteady as if testing the waters on whether she would be welcomed or not. Bonnie grew curious of her but the sight of Hayley's extended belly robbed her focus from the newcomer to the child unborn. “Holy gods. It is true...” Words fell in whispering tones, surprising herself and those who guarded the newest addiction to their family. Nick scratched the back of his head, awkwardly. Acheron studied the scene unfolding before him. And Bonnie ran her fingers through her hair, to hide the minor tremble she felt brewing. “Klaus, I—. . .” He interrupted her. “I will put into consideration your warnings and worries, give it some thought and send you word on my final decision.” The proposition hadn't been the one she was looking for initially but the scales had undergone dramatic change. And for the time being, Bonnie and the others found their hands tied on the Mikaelson's end. Now, to bring the wolves and witches to the table, Bonnie held the belief it wouldn't be as tough of a task. With subtle inclination of her head, silent agreement exchanged between the two as Bonnie bid the whole of the Mikaelson clan adieu before vacating the premises with both Nick and Acheron guarding her flanks. Negotiations stretched time from just several days to a few weeks, culminating in a couple of months. Witches, stubborn in spirit, refused to sit with the wolf and vampire respective brethren. Vampires clung to their vanity and greed for power and dominion over those they believed to be the lesser beings. And wolves thought only of their pride and animal-like characteristics that differentiated them from humanity's infections, schemes bred from purest evil as jealousy and unchanging greed fomented such deviations from the righteous path. Bonnie's fist grazed Kyrian's cheek. “Unpredictability is your biggest ally in a fight. Daimons are quick studies, your tactic must be one ever-changing.” Beads of sweat trickled down from all over her body. Forehead, neck, chest, back. His gaze trained on a particular droplet rolling down into the obscurity of the valley of her breasts, the trained warrior licked his lips subconsciously. Her heart strained to even its rhythm but to no avail. Confined to Kyrian's gymnasium, the both of them danced around one another in a game of opportunity and educational battle skills that she implored he taught her. Their routine had begun weeks prior when she stumbled into him training by himself. “Watch your left flank, Bonnie. Remember to stay alert at all times. Maintain your body weight balanced between your feet, you don't want to lose it as an enemy collides with you.” She nodded, taking note of every piece of advice, criticism. The ancient Commander taunted his disciple with methodically delivered blows that had her stretching, bending and maneuvering her body to his heart's content. And cock's. He just couldn't contain his insatiable hunger for a taste of exotic flesh that promised heavenly pleasure. But shame refused to take residence in him. Tugging two wooden practice swords off the wall, he quickly tossed one her way to commence their next round of physical sparring. The plan was simple. First, he would indulge her in a match of clashing swords, bringing added stamina into their combat to drain her faster. “What did Rosa put in your breakfast today?” Bonnie asked with a grunt whilst struggling to deflect every blow dealt. Inwardly, he smirked. For him, magic exuded from her dance of spontaneous movements that brought the wood of her practice sword into collision with his. Natural twirls guided her lithe body, her arms floating with regal grace as she lifted her weapon for her defense. But she didn't stop there. Bonnie Bennett held the stance of a warrior bred in long abandoned ranks of old war soldiers. When opportunity presented its hand to her, there was no hesitation to take it. Her attack was a thing of lethal beauty. But Kyrian hid a few tricks up his sleeve. Years past in the battlefields of political and territorial wars had educated him on the dirtiest manoeuvres only veteran soldiers specialized in. She didn't even see it coming. And with inhuman speed, he rolled his dice and played his cards. The right ones. No mistakes allowed. Nurturing her confidence, it wasn't too long until her tactic painted strokes of enthusiastic boldness in the canvas of momentary exhilaration. In the midst of her euphoric victory, as she gained advantage over her worthy opponent, the old dog of war bared his teeth in playful revelation of his trickery. With a single blow, dealt with impeccable precision, bleeding the authority a Commander was expected to, his sword brought loss of her equilibrium. She stumbled to the padded floor, landing on her back. He followed, not even a heartbeat later. The crooked grin on his lips brought a smile to hers as he hovered over her, both drenched in sweat. Accommodating his body to female curves, Kyrian rarely shied away from burning desires. Through his shorts, his erection spiked Bonnie's own lustful cravings. As her heart sped up into violent tempo, the flames of infernal hunger lick her soul in simultaneous guidance of her hands as fingers fondle that tawny skin that she swore was made to be licked, every inch tasted. This dance between them had its birth early on. From the very beginning, both gravitated toward one another, drowning in a river of lust neither could quite comprehend. It drove them to madness boulevard with its scorching want, a desire left incomplete in the hands of initial attraction. But completion slapped the both of them with soulful stirrings in the graveyard of pieces of broken hearts. His kiss came without surprise. It had been long since they last walked on eggshells around each other, and familiarized with the presence of the other, new routines stumbled into their days. Silent affections exchanged. Ardently, soft lips secured hers in passionate resonance of a forbidden affair. Time, much like everything else, faded and lost meaning. The world shrank until only the two of them remained. Bonnie's lungs soon ached from prolonged denial of air, compelling her to drive the frigidity of space between their mouths. Gaze unfocused, inebriation clung to them as she found herself floating in the male scent of him. Her lips parted, drawing air into her body. One single thought haunted her. The last of her defenses crumbled beneath the weight of his gaze's intensity, it was too late when realization dropped a bucket of cold reality over her head. And her secret was no more. “I love you.”

[awesomeuchuu]

"One of the twins?" Rinne threw his memory back. He mostly remembered that soldier guy or guard or whatever he was. Yuuta, was it? He was a twin? Oh, right. Hadn't Niki mentioned something like that before? Sometimes it was kind of hard to keep all the details straight, as he didn't make a point in digging into Niki's past. Didn't seem fair, when Rinne kept his own under lock and key as much as he possibly could.

But as the subject touched said past immediately after the thought had crossed his mind, at the mention of his brother, Rinne's eyes widened.

"Hiiro, huh? ...I guess it was..." He stared out of the train window, pressing his lips together. With everything between the Blue Witch and the Beast, he hadn't had much time to actually think about Hiiro, but...

But.

"Little brat's still the Chasseurs' lapdog and it drives me insane. Kid's too brainwashed and..." Again he trailed off, because he heard the raw hurt in his own voice, memories digging into wounds that had never quite healed, wounds that only looked mended, scabbed over on the surface, but that went impossibly deep once you disturbed them only a little.

"Shit, Niki. I... Don't know."

awesomeuchuu​:

Yeah, Rinne was the first one to admit that the days had been taxing as all Hell and more, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with Kanata and that stupid brute he hung around with anymore.

And the whole deal with Him was over and done with as well. To think that He had been that close to breaking out of His prison… If Kanata had succeeded, everyone might very well be doomed right now. Thankfully… Things hadn’t gone precisely to the Witch’s plan.

Part of it was because of Niki. Niki who looked so pitiful right now with his missing arm and those deep shadows under his eyes. It was worrying, Rinne had to admit. Niki was a vampire, and still he didn’t bounce back to full health faster than Rinne could blink. Well, of course, even vampires would get affected by something like this, and on top of it all, losing their arm.

Not that he pitied him. Of course he didn’t. He only tucked him in with his jacket because… Because. It was disturbing his sensibilities to see Niki like this. That was all.

…And now what was he doing?

“Awake and hungry, are you? You’re unbelievable.”

He was barely awake when Rinne spoke, blue eyes opening up as he watched the outside scenery, it had change from day to night, didn’t he just pass out minutes ago? He tried to adjust his position forgetting he was missing one arm as he almost hit face first into the window of the train.

God, he really has to remember it going to take a longer time to heal than he expected.

“I hadn’t had anything to eat what feel like days, the blue witch fed me a little until I made him and the beast angry... I am glad to see that you could fix it, like always.”

Often Niki felt more like he was a burden with their exploration and missions to help them with cursed names, it was only he strength as a vampire there could be used, not there was much like this.

“I will have to ask one of the twins when I get back if I can get some of their blood, it will help escalate the healing...” His lips slightly pushed into a pout, wah his stomach was rumbling, it had been hours ago there had been served dinner, if he was lucky he could sleep it away and Rinne would treat him like a sack of potatoes until they got to the hotel.

“Actually, how was it seeing your brother again? We haven’t seen him since the first mission.” Where Niki got beaten up and kidnapped by that Ibara person, how unlucky had he actually been? How many times had had Rinne to save him?

[awesomeuchuu]

@chibskimuses

❛   i hid my deepest feelings so well, i forgot where i placed them.  ❜  beast!Madara -> witch!Kanata ;D

chibskimuses answered:

Kanata was silent when Madara seemed to mumble under his breath, there wasn't much he could do at this certain point, and in the considering of what was going to happened soon, he prefer that he actually didn't have any deeper feelings. Neither for him or the labyrinth that Kanata had created of a timeloop.

Kanata wore a small smile on his face as he stepped over to him, letting his hands grace the mark on his shoulder, slightly standing on his tippy toes to press their lips together in a short kiss. "It's okay, you will find them when you 'deem' them important. Go and take care of the people outside, okay? I have something else to take care off."

Something there most likely would end his life as he knew it, the curse getting stronger and he didn't need that red head and the vampire inside the castle ruining his plans to get rid of curses once and for all.

"Now go" It was first time Kanata had ever sounded commanding over for Madara, not even letting him discuss it

He wasn't speaking for Kanata's benefit, not really. He hadn't meant for the witch to hear him in any case, but it didn't surprise him that he did. The smile on Madara's lips was as fake as they came, but the wistfulness that lingered in the curl of his lips and in the glimmer deep in his eyes was real enough. He allowed Kanata to kiss him, hand even coming to the slender hip of the other, giving it a light squeeze without actually kissing him back. He didn't pull away though, of course he would never do that, for that he loved him far too much... But feelings were complicated and right now he had been a bit too lost in his own head to fully appreciate Kanata's affection. If that was what it was, if it wasn't simply the witch trying to placate Madara the best way he knew how.

Before the order slipped over his lips.

The order, when it came, caused Madara to readjust his focus, to land properly in the here and now, eyes widening. He opened his mouth to object, of course he did. He couldn't leave Kanata alone, he wouldn't leave Kanata alone, and so on and so on.

He didn't say anything.

Instead he simply bowed and turned around. "As you wish." Don't disappear on me. Don't you dare.

[awesomeuchuu]

@chibskimuses

(Hi) "Sometimes, I do wonder with how much Rinne-kun gets hurts that he truly is an idiot with how quickly he is healing." -Niki

(HI!!! MWAH)

"Maybe I've just got some freakin' good genes or whatever, ever thought of that?" Rinne grinned, quick and sharp, like a blade in the night. He glanced down at his hands, the right one covered in a glove and the left one sporting nails that were far too well manicured for someone leading the kind of life he was leading.

"...Does it really matter?"

[awesomeuchuu]

@chibskimuses

(Sorry not sorry) Niki is just staring at Rinne neck, with red eyes (hehe)

Rinne was vigilant. Very much so. There were... A lot of factors in his life that had turned him into a paranoid, jumpy mess if you simply scratched a little on the surface. So, suffice to say, he immediately picked up on the fact that someone was looking at him. Intently. But who? Him and Niki were alone in the hotel room, as far as he knew. Unless there were an intruder present because the stare didn't feel one hundred percent benevolent.

But if it wasn't an intruder, then... He whipped his head around and otherworldly blue eyes widened a fraction as he caught sight of his partner-in-crime, or whatever you'd want to call Niki. "...Thirsty, eh?"

[awesomeuchuu]

@chibskimuses

Being grabbed so roughly when he though he finally had gotten somewhere safe with the chasseurs, this was the last thing he expected as it barely been days since he saw his parents being killed in front of him. Now he was in some lab and having needles entering his skin, the older man ‘gatekeeper’ seemed to say something that he hoped that this one will be as good test subject as the other red head, not that Hiiro could barely lay an eye to what he said, not with the pain under his skin, and each of his red blood cells fighting what had entered his body. He survived, and that was all he did until he was brought to a room with a locked door, another child inside or.. older “Nii..-san?…”

This boy was around eighteen. He was filthy, his red hair dull and lifeless. He was wearing a dirty lab coat that had probably once been white, but in the darkened room it looked almost black, stained with blood all over as it was.

Rinne lay on a hard, uncomfortable looking cot, staring up at the ceiling of the cell when the door opened. He didn't look to see who it was that had been shoved into the cell with him, not immediately. His bare arms and legs were bandaged so much that barely any skin showed through, and the skin that did was badly bruised.

Despite all this, at the sound of Hiiro's voice, Rinne shot up immediately, eyes finally landing on the room's new occupant. "No. No, no, no, you're not here... H-Hiiro...?"

[awesomeuchuu]

@chibskimuses

The red head chasseur looked at the bloody corpse on the road, it seems he had arrived to late. Not that he minded as he could still see the red trail of blood on the road. He set into a run following the trail, he didn't have time to wait for someone more experience, not when he knew what to do and he didn't want another person to lose their life because a wild vampire was running loose. He didn't even hesitate to stick the needle into his neck to strength his perception and his speed as his scythe was hanging on his back. Maybe if he was lucky Ibara was already waiting in the other end. But for now it felt like his blue eyes was shining under his hood as he was running

"There's always one thing after another," Rinne groused, unamused. He was pretty sure it was simply a matter of time before the Chasseurs showed up and he wasn't about to deal with them unless he absolutely had to. The Curse Bearer was close too, he could hear the snarls and what sounded like cracking of bones not too far off in the southward direction.

(That, and well, it was far too easy to follow the gruesome trail of blood that led that way as well.)

Rinne reached for the book that hung by his side. Its pages black and its cover a dark blue, the book held the power to rewrite the very Formula of the World. Using that power, Rinne could enter a vampire's psyche and undo the taint the malnomen had put over the vampire's true name, purifying them. Thus, Rinne called himself a 'vampire doctor'.

Of course, this profession came with its fair share of dangers. And it constantly put him at odds with the Chasseurs, as they believed all vampires were a slight against God and that trying to save a Cursebearer instead of simply putting them out of their misery was an act of blasphemy.

Bullshit, Rinne thought. But the Chasseurs always did view themselves as far too damn important.

He heard steps, running steps, and he cursed. He had been lax for a moment, his thoughts wandering. He whipped around and came face to face with a young Chasseur - from the looks of the boy's clothes - and any quip that had been about to leave Rinne's lips simply just... Died down.

Fuck.

[awesomeuchuu]

@chibskimuses

♧ - slap my muse’s hand away from something they shouldn’t touch

Niki to the twins?

"Oi, you two, you are going to trouble your big brother if you touch the stinging nettle"

"No, we're not!! Niki, you're silly!" Hinata chirped impudently, giggling as he began to run in circles around Niki. Knowing their big brother, Leo would probably gladly touch the stinging nettle himself, and then complain about it for ages.

"We were only gonna look, honest," Yuuta added, taking a couple of respectful steps away from the innocent looking plant. "We didn't know what it was. ...How did you know, Niki?"

[awesomeuchuu]

@chibskimuses​

[ stroke ] — your muse combs their fingers through my muse’s hair - Madara and Kanata, VnC verse? >>

chibskimuses answered:

Feeling fingers stroking through the blue locks of his hair, made it seemed like a wave there constantly moved back and forth, slowly tracing over the sand and removing all trace of living being footprints, only to retreat back.

It wasn't often they could enjoy time like this anymore, actually. Since they did the 'thing' their relationship seemed to be completely different between them. Like a tsunami there finally stopped constantly overflowing.

Still, time seemed to had change outside, there was constant rain, and the same days seemed to repeat themselves. Even Madara seemed to disappear..

Even if Kanata had played stupied..

He knew the smell of human blood, he knew the smell of death was tracking on him. Even if Kanata didn't want to show it, he was angry that someone had cursed Madara true name, and Kanata felt hopeless. One thing was his own, but.. Madara's? He would do anything to cure it, or at least make sure they could be here forever and ever before they will fall to despair.

"Nee~ Mama, it seems like it is raining again today, do you think we will get any sun soon?"

There was something so very relaxing with sitting like this, Kanata’s back against his chest and how the witch allowed him to play gently with his hair. The hair felt soft and smooth, like water rippling between his fingers and it sent something hot and oddly comforting into the pit of his stomach, a sense of content and ease that very rarely proved itself to be a part of his life, Madara thought. Especially after the time they had... solidified their relationship like that. After the fact, Madara found himself longing more and more for the taste of Kanata’s blood. He couldn’t exactly ignore the fact that he was a Curse bearer like this, not when the blood lust always seemed to lurk somewhere right underneath the surface. 

“Sun...? I’m not sure. Sometimes it feels like I’ve forgotten just what the sun looks like all together.” Because who needed the sun when they had the deep of the ocean resting right here in their arms? He leaned down and kissed the top of Kanata’s head.

“Do you miss it?”