#Whales I know you have no reason to do us any favours but please? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emospritelet · 6 years ago

Note

KOL prompt: Dorothy witnesses a particularly painfully awkward encounter between Belle and Gold once Belle comes back to work. She harasses Gold about it.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17]

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Belle was relieved when she could return to work, and made her way to the hospital with a lightness in her step that she hadn’t felt in days. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating her newfound freedom, the winter sun shining brightly on the snow, ice crystals glittering on the boughs of trees and the top of the park fence. She greeted Mary Margaret cheerfully as she entered the locker room, shrugging out of her coat and shoving it with her bag into an empty locker.

“How are you feeling?” asked Mary Margaret. “You look pale.”

“I’m okay,” said Belle, turning to face her. “A little tired, that’s all. Glad to be back at work.”

“Hmm.” Mary Margaret looked amused. “Even with the impending naked photo shoot? I heard you agreed to do it too.”

Belle pulled a face, but couldn’t hide her grin.

“Dorothy called me yesterday,” she confessed. “I don’t mind - it sounds like a bit of fun. You’re in too, right?”

“I’m in,” said Mary Margaret, blushing a little. “I just hope none of the school kids see the finished product. I’m counting on the townsfolk to hide their innocent eyes.”

Belle grinned.

“So, do we have a full dozen victims?” she asked, smoothing her skirt, and Mary Margaret nodded as they turned to head for the ward.

“Six girls and six guys,” she confirmed. “Literally no one was shocked that Doctors Whale and Milliner stepped up. Dr Gold was a surprise, though.”

Belle stumbled, arms flying out to keep her balance.

“Dr Gold?” she said. “He’s doing it?”

“I couldn’t believe it either,” said Mary Margaret. “He’s always buttoned up to the neck. I guess you just never know what someone’s really like underneath it all, huh?”

Belle thought that she knew exactly what he was like, down the last inch, but she elected not to say anything. They rounded the corner and went into the long term ward, where Mary Margaret picked up a tray and began collecting empty water jugs from patients’ nightstands. Belle left her to it, crossing the ward to where her little mobile library cart was stashed beside the waste bins. She wondered if anyone had been doing the rounds in her absence, or if the patients had missed out on reading material.

Once she had made the rounds of the long term patients, she pushed the cart out of the ward, almost running into Dorothy, who swerved to avoid her.

“Sorry,” said Belle. “I should slow down, I’m just excited to be back.”

“Well, it’s good to see you on your feet again,” said Dorothy cheerfully. “We could use all the help we can get.”

“Just let me know where you need me,” said Belle. “I was going to do the library rounds but I’m free after that.”

“We need supplies in the kids’ ward,” said Dorothy. “I’ll get you the list, if you can swing by on your way around.”

“Sure thing.”

Dorothy nodded, and put her head to the side with a tiny grin.

“So, the photo shoot,” she said. “Jefferson says the photographers are coming tomorrow. I vote we go for drinks at the Rabbit Hole afterwards. You in?”

“Sounds good,” said Belle. “Who are the photographers? Someone local?”

Dorothy shook her head.

“Couple of Jefferson’s friends from New York,” she said. “Apparently they’re big time - do a lot of work for Vogue. Nice of them to do him a favour.”

“Well, now I’m even more interested to see what the finished product looks like,” remarked Belle. “Is there a theme or anything?”

“Other than ‘hospital staff strip off their clothes and their dignity for cold hard cash’, not that I know of,” said Dorothy, with a grin, and Belle giggled.

The tap of a cane made her look around, and she felt her heart thump as Dr Gold came into view, his hair brushing his cheekbones, his eyes a little tired. Belle beamed at him as he approached, and he nodded to her.

“Miss French,” he said. “I trust you’re feeling better?”

Belle gave him a flat look.

“If you start Miss French-ing me again, I’ll have to revert to calling you Dr Gold,” she teased.

“Well, we are in a hospital,” he said, a little stiffly. “Given my professional status, perhaps that would be best.”

Belle felt as though a cup full of cold water had been thrown over her. He wasn’t quite meeting her eyes, fingers twitching on the cane handle, and Dorothy was frowning at him. She tried again.

“You must be enjoying having the house to yourself,” she said. “Although if you ever want someone to kick your arse at cards again, feel free to give me a call.”

She grinned at him, and he looked away, off down the corridor.

“I’m enjoying the peace and quiet,” he said. “No doubt you’re pleased to be back in your own bed. As am I.”

“Right,” she said, feeling awkward, and Gold sighed.

“If you’ll excuse me, Miss French, I have a busy schedule,” he said. “I’m glad you made a full recovery.”

He set off down the corridor with his limping stride, and Belle chewed her lip, sharing an awkward glance with Dorothy before pushing her cart on down to the children’s ward. It seemed the close friendship they had been nurturing had taken a strange turn.

Gold was almost to the next ward when Dorothy caught up with him, swerving to stand in front of him and blocking his path.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded.

“What the hell was what?”

“Could you have been any more rude and dismissive?” she asked. “I thought you two were friends!”

“How was I rude?”

Dorothy put her hands on her hips.

“What, so telling her she has to call you Dr Gold and you’re glad she’s no longer in your house wasn’t rude?”

“I told her I was glad she’d recovered!” he said, aggrieved, and she puffed out her chest, raising her chin.

“’My dear Miss French’”, she said, in a ridiculously deep and somewhat plummy voice. “’I’m delighted both that you didn’t die and that you’re no longer bothering me with your foolish chattering’. That’s how you sounded!”

“I did not!”

“You know, the next time you talk to someone you like, I’m just gonna record a video of their face going through the five stages of grief and show it to you.”

“She didn’t do that!” snapped Gold, and blinked. “Wait, what do you mean ‘like’?”

Dorothy leaned forward, fixing him with a beady eye.

“You like her,” she whispered. “Don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t, because you’ll be a lying liar who lies!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” he growled, and strode off. She trotted at his heels like an insistent terrier.

“Don’t walk away from me, you know I’m right.”

“I don’t know any such thing!” he snapped. “And I’ll thank you to keep your nose out of my personal affairs.”

“Oh believe me, if you had any personal affairs going on, I’d be more than happy to mind my own business.”

“Then do so.”

“Can’t do that.” She slipped in front of him again. “Look, just ask her out. I bet she’d say yes. One date.”

“I don’t date,” he said stiffly.

“Since when?”

“Since forever,” he said, and she straightened up, looking surprised.

“Oh,” she said. “Not ever?”

“No.”

Dorothy looked awkward.

“Oh,” she said again. “I didn’t realise you weren’t attracted to people that way. Guess I read you wrong. Sorry, dude, my bad.”

Gold grimaced.

“It’s not that,” he said, his voice cool. “When I say forever, I just mean - I mean not for decades. It has nothing to do with attraction. It’s a personal choice, and frankly it’s none of your business.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, stepping back so he could pass her. “Sorry. I’ll - I’ll butt out.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” he said, in a dry tone. “Perhaps we might get on with some work. I believe I have a photo shoot tomorrow, and given that I’m dying inside just thinking about it, I’d prefer to get around as many of the patients as we can.”

Dorothy snorted in amusement, falling into step beside him as he walked on.

“Okay, you win,” she said. “I’ll stop teasing you. For, like, at least a day.”

Gold couldn’t recall why he had agreed to be photographed naked, and was convinced that he had still been sick at the time and that Jefferson had taken advantage. There was no other reason for him to be standing in the corridor outside one of the operating theatres, which was thankfully not in need of use, along with four other men from the hospital staff. Jefferson and Whale were looking positively gleeful, Leroy appeared his usual grumpy self, hands shoved in his pocket and a woollen hat pulled down over his head, and Dr Hopper, the psychiatrist who ran a clinic in the hospital every Thursday, had an expression on his face that suggested he was facing a painful death. Gold could understand how he felt.

The doors to the operating theatre swung open, and two women swept into the corridor, arms folded as they looked the little party over. One had rich brown skin and shining dark hair worked into elaborate curls with gold highlights, a cream silk blouse above loose brown slacks. The other was pale and thin, her white-blonde hair cut into a bob that fell to her jaw. She wore tight black leather pants and a white silk vest, and her red lips curved upwards at the sight of them.

“The first victims,” she purred. “Jefferson, darling, how the devil are you?”

She stepped forward, kissing Jefferson on both cheeks.

“Thanks for agreeing to do this, Ella,” he said. “I owe you one.”

“Oh, Ursula and I simply had to come,” she said, waving a hand. “Shocking the residents of small towns always was our thing, you know.”

“Hey, I thought there were supposed to be six of you,” said Ursula. “We need a Mr February.”

There was a patter of feet further down the hall, and Graham, one of the nurses, came hurtling into view, skidding to a halt as he reached them. His firm chest heaved beneath his dark blue scrubs, perfect stubble setting off a handsome face.

“Sorry I’m late,” he gasped, and Ella and Ursula looked him over with approval.

“Oh, I think we can forgive a couple of minutes,” said Ursula. “Why don’t you go first?”

They put their hands on his shoulders, steering him towards the double doors, and Graham glanced at the others with a faint look of panic in his eyes.

“Great,” grumbled Leroy. “I’m supposed to follow the guy that looks like an underwear model? The camera’ll break.”

“I don’t think any of us is expecting to come out of this with our dignity intact,” said Gold, in a very dry tone.

“Just smile for the camera and suck in your gut,” said Jefferson helpfully, and Leroy glared at him.

“Hey, this is muscle!” he snapped, patting his midriff.

Gold sighed, exchanging a glance with Archie and shaking his head. Why the hell had he agreed to do this?

The photo shoot went reasonably quickly, considering, but Gold was made to wait until last. He was growing steadily more irritated as each man came out and a name was called other than his. When Jefferson came out, with a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye, Ursula stuck her head around the door and beckoned to Archie, which made Gold sigh. Great. So I’m Mr December. Bloody feels like it, too.

“This calendar is gonna be an artistic masterpiece,” announced Jefferson, spreading his arms. “You should have seen me, Gold! Tall and stoic - and almost impossibly handsome - gazing off into the distance as though I had just come up with the miracle cure for all ailments! Dr Milliner, a modern day god, walking upon the earth so that mere mortals can—”

“Yes, alright,” interrupted Gold. “I’m sure the camera shattered into pieces rather than be forced to take a picture of anyone else. How much longer are they going to be?”

“Not long, keep your pants on,” said Jefferson. “Or not, I guess.”

He waggled his eyebrows, and Gold rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

“Because I’m a good friend and you’re a good sport,” said Jefferson. “You want me to come in with you?”

“No,” sighed Gold. “I’ll be fine. Is it just us? Dorothy said she was posing, too.”

“Yeah, the women should be turning up any minute,” said Jefferson. “Speaking of, I’d better get back to work. Try not to kill them with how awesome you are, okay?”

“I’ll try not to give them nightmares,” muttered Gold, and Jefferson chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder before heading off down the corridor.

By the time Archie Hopper came out, looking a little shell-shocked, Gold was beginning to lose patience.

“How did it go?” he asked Archie, who blinked at him from behind silver-rimmed glasses.

“I was reclining on a couch with an arm behind my head and a copy of Psychiatric Times over my genitals,” he said, with a pained expression. “Please don’t ever speak of it again.”

He hurried off, straightening his jacket, and Gold couldn’t help grinning. The sound of the double doors behind him made him turn, and Ursula was smirking at him.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr December,” she said. “Come on in.”

“At least let’s make it Dr December,” he said dryly, and strode forwards as though he was going to his doom.

The inside of the operating theatre had been transformed. The equipment was still there, including the table and instruments, but there was also a couch, as Archie had mentioned, a radiography film viewer, a IV stand complete with a bag of saline, and large amounts of photographic equipment. The woman called Ella looked up from her camera, pursing her lips as he walked in. Music was playing from a stereo to her left, and Gold really wished they hadn’t elected to play You Sexy Thing. He felt anything but.

“Right,” said Ella briskly. “Let’s have a look at you, then.”

She straightened up, dusting off her hands and stepping closer. She over-topped him by several inches, and she took his chin in between cool fingers, turning his head this way and that.

“Excellent bone structure,” she mused. “Great hair. I can definitely work with this.”

“You think people are going to be looking at my hair?” he asked, in a wry tone, and she released his chin and stepped back.

“Well, that’s really up to you,” she said. “Take off those scrubs, let’s see what you’re hiding.”

“Nothing of any interest, I assure you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, darling,” she said. “We’re here to make you look as delicious as possible. Just do as you’re told and it’ll all be over soon.”

Her matter-of-fact tone and air of brisk efficiency made him feel oddly at ease. He supposed that as photographers, they saw bodies all the time. Much as he did, as a doctor. He was simply a tool, a piece of material they used to create their art. It made it far easier to shed his clothes, and pretty soon he was naked, wriggling his toes on the cold floor as they stared at him with folded arms as though he were an interesting museum exhibit.

“So, you’re a doctor, right?” said Ursula. “Do me a favour and loop that stethoscope around your neck. You can use that clipboard to cover yourself if it makes you more comfortable.”

Gold obeyed, holding the clipboard over his groin, and she leaned in close, frowning slightly as she studied his face.

“I think we need a warmer filter,” she said to Ella.

“Agreed,” came the response. “Something a little more golden. Give me a second.”

“The pose is wrong, too,” said Ursula. “Is there any position you’d prefer, Dr December?”

“I’d prefer it if no one could see my face, does that count?”

She chuckled.

“Oh, we can manage that,” she said, and turned her finger in a circle. “Spin it around.”

Gold turned, putting his back to them, and heard a sharp intake of breath from Ella.

“Now that,” she announced. “Is definitely something I can use. Turn ever so slightly to your right, Doctor.”

“Oh yes,” said Ursula approvingly. “Raise the chart - there!”

Gold could hear the clicking of the camera from behind him, so he stood as still as he could, the clipboard with its chart held up in front of him, as though he were checking someone’s vitals. Naked. He supposed it wasn’t too bad, really. If cold.

“If you could raise your left arm?” asked Ella. “Just run your fingers through your hair and breathe in.”

He obeyed, feeling a slight stretch on his left side, his back arching a little as he sucked in a breath, and he heard a sound from the both of them that was almost a purr.

“That’s perfect, darling,” drawled Ella, and the camera clicked and whirred.

They asked for a couple more poses, instructing him to turn slightly, bend a little, or raise the chart in his hands. He was starting to get cold, and he was relieved when they announced from behind him that they were done.

“Marvellous, darling,” said Ella. “I think you’ll like the finished product.”

“I won’t exactly be making it into my official Christmas card,” he remarked, wriggling back into his scrubs.

“Oh, you may not,” she said slyly. “But I have a feeling many a woman with a doctor kink will be getting hot and bothered this Christmas.”

Gold closed his eyes with a pained expression as he shrugged on his lab coat.

“I didn’t need that mental image, thank you.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know you’re free to go,” said Ursula. “Tell Jefferson he owes us a drink, and we’re coming to collect when we’re done.”

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted,” said Gold, and bowed his head. “Ladies.”

They sent him almost identical grins, and he sighed to himself and headed for the door, pushing it open and stopping dead. Six women were staring at him, most of them grinning. Dorothy was in front, and sent him a wink, but behind her were Astrid, Alice, Zelena Mills, Mary Margaret Blanchard, and - to his horror - Belle. She was staring at him with wide eyes, and he wanted to sigh. Well, Jefferson did say everyone…

“Hey Dr Gold,” said Alice, winking at him. “Sorry we missed the show. If you want to give us a sneak preview I’m sure there’s time…”

“I think not,” he said severely, and she giggled.

“I’m just teasing,” she said. “You’re not my type. I mean you’re really not my type.”

“I’m delighted to hear it,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He could feel their eyes on him as he walked off.

“Well,” he heard Zelena say, in a satisfied tone of voice. “Guess who’s pre-ordering twelve copies of this thing?”

#thatravenclawbitch #fic: kiss of life #rumbelle fic #my fic #rumbelle #dr gold x candy striper belle

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swanqueeneverafter · 7 years ago

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12. Red-Handed, Pt.1

Storybrooke. Sheriff’s Station. Present. (Emma and David are sitting in Emma’s office at the station. She hands him a mug of tea.) David: “Thank you. I hope Kathryn’s somewhere warm, not out in the cold.” Emma: “David. I think you need to start worrying about yourself a little bit more here. Your wife is missing. You are in love with another woman. There’s this… Unexplained phone call.” David: “I know, I know. I just… I can’t explain why it says that. I didn’t do anything to my wife.” Emma: “I’m pretty good at spotting a liar. And, honestly, liars have better material. Now, go home.” David: “I can go?” Emma: “We don’t even know if there was a crime yet. So, get some sleep.” David: “Thank you.” (David stands up to leave.) Emma: “And, David? Maybe… Get a lawyer.” Granny’s Diner. (Ruby is flirting with August, who is sitting at one of the tables.) Ruby: “You can’t be serious. A whole year without a roof over your head?” August: “Well, you get used to it. Plus, I had the motorcycle. So, if I didn’t like a place after a while…” (Granny calls for Ruby, but Ruby ignores her.) Granny: “Ruby?” Ruby: “I’ve never even been out of Storybrooke. What was your favourite place?” August: “Nepal. Best people. They have these prayer temples carved into mountains that are overrun with lemurs.” Ruby: “What’s a lemur?” Granny: “Ruby!” Ruby: “Just give me a sec!” August: “They’re little animals. And they have these eyes that reflect light. So, at night, it looks like they glow.” (Granny, again, calls Ruby over to the counter.) Granny: “Ruby! Stop flirting and get over here!”

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Peter knocks on the shutter of Red and Granny’s cottage. Red, imitating the voice of an old woman, calls out from inside.) Red: “Who’s there?” Peter: “Let me in.” Red: “I’m just a poor, old widow. Spare me!” Peter: “Let me in, or I’ll…” Red: “Yes?” Peter: “I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow the-” (Red opens the shutters.) Red: (Giggles:) “You’ll huff and puff?” Peter: “I couldn’t think of nothing.” Red: “Oh, so you thought that you’d level the house with the power of your breath? Well, a case could be made…” Peter: “Oh, ho ho-” Red: “Shh! Granny’s in the other room. You know she doesn’t like me opening the shutters.” Peter: “No, she doesn’t like me.” Red: “That’s what I meant.” Peter: “You got to get out of here.” Red: “I know. Anywhere.” Peter: “Well, a blacksmith’s boy can get work all over.” Red: “You’d leave everyone you know? You’d do that for me?” Peter: “I’d do anything for you.” Red: “Peter, watch out. Your air of danger is slipping.” Peter: “Come out – just for a minute.” Red: “It’s already dark. She’d never let me.” (Granny yells for Red. Red tries to go back in, but Peter holds onto her wrist.) Granny: “Red! Where are you? What are you doing?” Red: “Let go.” Peter: “Pay the price. One kiss.” Granny: “Red, get in here!” (Red quickly kisses Peter and shuts the shutters. She goes into the main room, where several men with torches are talking to Granny.) Red: “What’s going on?” Granny: “Nothing that concerns you. Just a bunch of fools trying to get themselves killed over a few dead sheep.” Man: “Wolf took out a dozen last night.” Red: “So, you called me in here to what? Just to keep me in sight?” Man: “Good evening, Red. We’re just forming up a hunting party.” Red: “You’re hunting the wolf? Can I go with them, please? I’ll be safe in a big group.” Granny: “Don’t be ludicrous. You are staying inside and you’re keeping that hood on. You know red repels wolves.” Red: “They’re not wearing red.” Granny: “They’re damn fools, too. There’s only two more nights left in Wolfstime – let it take a few sheep. Now, go home.” (Granny shuts the door in their faces.) Red: “I hope they kill the wolf. Then, we can have lives again.” Granny: “You just want to roam around the woods with that wastrel – Peter.” Red: “He’s not a wastrel. He works hard. He has plans.” Granny: “Oh, I am sure he does. Now, come on. You know what to do.” (Granny and Red prepare the cottage for defense against the wolf. They barricade and lock the doors and windows, as well as barring the fireplace.) Granny: “Now, go to sleep, girl.” Red: “Yes, Granny.” Granny: “I hope I don’t see that boy mooning around here tomorrow. And wear the hood!” Red: “Yes, Granny.” (Red goes into her room, while Granny sits facing the door with a crossbow.) Storybrooke. Granny’s Diner. Present. (At the diner, Ruby finally goes to meet Granny at the counter.) Ruby: “I can’t believe you did that. That was humiliating.” Granny: “I want you to start working Saturday nights.” Ruby: “Come on – we have an agreement about Saturday night.” Granny: “I want to start training you to do the books and the reorders. Business is booming lately, and, with more money comes more paperwork.” Ruby: “Yeah. None of that sounds good.” Granny: “It’s got to be done.” Ruby: “Is this a punishment for talking to that guy?” Granny: “If I wanted to punish you, I’d have better reasons. For one thing, you were late. For another thing, Liza, you dress like a drag queen during Fleet Week.” Ruby: “And you dress like Norman Bates when he dresses like Norman Bates’ mother.” Granny: “Ruby, you’re a grown woman. You can’t keep acting like some kid.” Ruby: “You just want me to act like you until I turn into you. Well, I am not a fossil yet, Granny. I should be out there having adventures with lemurs!” Granny: “Well, as long as you work here, you are going to listen to me.” Ruby: “I didn’t ask to work here.” Granny: “Well, then what’s keeping ya?” Ruby: “Nothing! I quit!” (Ruby storms out of the diner.)

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Ruby exits her room and finds Granny still guarding the front door.) Red: “Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Granny: “I’ll sleep with the trolls in the afterlife. I’ll get the shutters. You go check if that wolf left the chickens alone.” Red: “Yes, Granny.” Granny: “Wear your hood!” Chicken Coop. (Red is collecting eggs in the chicken coop. When she goes to leave, she hears a noise coming from the corner. Snow White, who is holding two eggs, shows herself.) Snow White: “I’m sorry. I can go.” Red: “Are you… stealing our eggs?” Snow White: “No. … (Holds the eggs out:) Not a lot.” Red: “Hey, hey. It’s… It’s all right.” Snow White: “Thank you. It was just that, um, last night… There was something out there. There was howling, and… I heard it. And it was so cold, so…” Red: “Hey. Come on – come with me. Everyone calls me Red.” Snow White: “I’m Sn- Frosty.” Red: “Frosty? Really?” Snow White: “No. It’s just that someone’s looking for me, so…” Red: “You don’t know or trust me yet. Hey, I-I get it. I just need something to call you.” Snow White: “Uh, Margaret. Oh, no. Uh, Mary.” Red: “Well, then, Mary – come on.” (Snow White follows Red out of the chicken coop and into the forest. They head towards a well.) Red: “I just got to bring in some water before we go in. It’ll just take a second.” Snow White: “What was all that howling?” Red: “It’s Wolfstime. Killer wolf out there. As big as a pony, but a lot more bloodthirsty. It’s been stalking the area pretty regular. It kills cattle and… Hang on. (Red grabs the rope of the bucket in the well:) It sticks sometimes. Could you just… (Snow White helps Red pull up the bucket. When she turns around, she seems shocked by what she sees:) Look. Look at that. Mary, look at the water. (The water in the bucket is red:) Mary. Mary. Mary?” (Red turns around and sees what Snow White is staring at. Behind them in the clearing, there are several bloody bodies.)

Storybrooke. Main Street. Present. (Mary Margaret runs to catch up with Emma on the street. The two of them walk together.) Mary Margaret: “Is he okay? David?” Emma: “Oh, yeah. He’s a little shaken up, but he’s headed home. He’s fine.” Mary Margaret: “Any word from Kathryn?” Emma: “Nothing new.” Mary Margaret: “Did you check with Boston again?!” Emma: “She’s not there, Mary Margaret.” Mary Margaret: “So, we have no idea what happened to her?” Emma: “All we know, is that she found out about you two, gave you a well-deserved slap, and then disappeared.” Mary Margaret: “Well-deserved? Do you really believe that? Emma: “No. I’m just preparing you for what everyone else is going to think. You two are going to look bad until we figure the truth out.” Mary Margaret: “You mean David? Th-That people are going to think in order to… Be free with me…” Emma: “Some are. And, he’s not doing himself any favours. So, if there’s anything you could think of to pin down his whereabouts that night-” Mary Margaret: “He wasn’t with me. We really are through.” (The two of them come across Ruby, who is waiting at a bus stop, and Dr. Whale, who is talking to her.) Ruby: “Sorry. No, don’t need a ride.” Dr. Whale: “It’s awfully cold out here.” Ruby: “I’m fine – really.” Dr. Whale: “I can carry your bag. Where are you headed?” Mary Margaret: “Dr. Whale?” Dr. Whale: “Mary Margaret. Emma. Hello there.” Mary Margaret: “Hey.” Dr. Whale: “I was just having a talk with Ruby here. But, I should, um…” Emma: “Yeah. Yeah, you should.” Dr. Whale: “Yeah…” (He leaves.) Mary Margaret: “Was he bothering you?” Ruby: “The day I can’t handle a lech is the day I leave town. Which this is, I guess.” Emma: “You’re leaving?” Ruby: “I had a fight with Granny. Quit my job.” Mary Margaret: “You quit? Where are you going?” Ruby: “I don’t know. Away.” Emma: “Yeah, well, buses out of town don’t really happen. And, you might want a destination first.” Mary Margaret: “Hey, if you need a place to figure things out, you could always come home with us.” Emma: “Yeah, uh. Yeah. Just for a little while.” Mary Margaret: “Come on.”

#Swan Queen #sq #swanqueen

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lykegenia · 7 years ago

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The Things We Hide Ch. 9

The Southern Water Tribe stood for a hundred years against the Fire Nation, indomitable until Sozin’s Comet tipped the balance in Fire Lord Ozai’s favour. Now, as planned, the South is decimated, Chief Hakoda is a puppet on his throne, and Princess Katara is a political prisoner held in the Fire Nation capital to ensure his good behaviour. But Ozai has little time to gloat. A vigilante masquerading as the Blue Spirit is causing unrest among the people, rebel ships still hound his navy, and right under his nose the South’s most powerful waterbender waits with the patience of ice to strike at the very heart of his empire and bring it crashing down.

Chapter 1 on AO3 Masterpost here

Words: 4388 Pairing: Zuko x Katara Chapter Summary: The Fire lord’s garden party goes exactly how Katara thinks it will - until it doesn’t.

Read it on AO3

Katara –

It’s official, we’re taking a break. The fishing fleet got caught in a storm and luckily we found shelter. The people here are fishermen too, so it’s almost like being at home, only with less snow. All their fishermen are women, though. You’d like their chief. When we first landed, I may have accidentally suggested to her that we were better at fishing because we have bigger boats – don’t laugh, Katara, I know you’re laughing – but she kicked my ass like five seconds later, so she’s now teaching me some of their methods for fishing while our ships finish repairs. You should meet her. You’d like her. Although I don’t know how that would end for me.

Did you know they have a sea serpent here? I’ve only seen the fin, but it’s huge.

Anyway, there’s another reason I’m writing. I know you’ll understand this, you always do. I miss my little sister. You remember her, right? Always helping people, always exploring where she wasn’t allowed. We never could keep her out of the caves on the side of that stupid mountain behind our house, because someone told her that if she looked hard enough she’d find the hidden people and they’d tell her where to find the best treasure. She’s all grown up now, and Dad always told her to be careful, but I wonder sometimes if she still does things like that. She’s doing a great job with the polar bear-dogs, by the way. I hear they’re nearly eating out of her hand.

And one last thing – please don’t send me any more of those Fire Nation recipes with all those weird spices and complicated fiddly buts. It’s giving Nanak ideas and we all have to suffer through them, and what happens after. There’s nothing wrong with sea prunes, you know.

Mimi

The letter was crumpled, the ink smudged from so many readings. Even after going through it multiple times, parts of the code were indecipherable. When they had decided on disguising their notes like this, back before Sozin’s Comet, they had decided the need for secrecy was too great to risk anyone being able to find patterns in the smokescreen of friendly correspondence. Katara and Mimi both mixed banal details about their lives with the more important facts, hiding them beneath the surface like the deep ocean currents that brought the bow whales in spring. They relied on their shared memories and in-jokes to communicate, and relied on Nila’s skill at getting information to fill in any gaps.

Not that there was usually much they could do to help, Katara groused, as she sat under the lantern tree in the garden and reread the letter again for the dozenth time. They had worked out that the mention of the ‘hidden people’ was really about Nila’s spies, who had missed their previous three report windows, but the rest of it was still gibberish. And instead of being able to go out and look for them, she and her entourage were stuck in the compound, still under house arrest, with nothing more strenuous to occupy them than garden parties and the ridiculous intricacies of court life. Sometimes she just wanted to forget the plan entirely and swamp the palace in a deluge, but this far into the dry season there wasn’t nearly enough water for that, if she even had the power to move it anyway.

No, for now she was stuck playing the role of subjugated princess, smiling from behind a paper fan in a pretty dress and dreaming of the day she would be free to cast off the layers of Fire Nation silk and daub her face with warrior’s paint as she had on the night when she crushed the three transports against the breakwater. Soon enough, she would teach them the oldest lesson of the Water Tribes: the sea is patient, and powerful, and cannot be conquered.

In the meantime, perhaps she could pry some information out of one of the more loose-lipped nobles, and if that failed, her alter ego might find something. She smirked to think about the growing rumours of spirits in the city, murmurs in the marketplace of a shadowy figure that cloaked itself in mist and slinked through the streets after dark. Ozai had reacted to these rumours with predictable force, but the extra patrols assigned to the wards were reluctant to risk the ire of the people – or the spirits – by going after another preternatural vigilante. It helped, of course, that Katara could pass her waterbending skills off as magic, and she took vindictive pleasure in knowing how easy it was to bring the dissatisfaction of the Fire Nation’s citizens to the surface.

Like drawing out an infection, she thought. All they needed was the right tonic.

She wondered about the Blue Spirit. Since the first night they spent running through the Caldera, she hadn’t seen him. If nothing else, his knowledge of the city would make her own reconnaissance go that much quicker, but despite Hama’s insistence to the contrary, Katara was not reckless enough jeopardise their plan in order to seek him out. Whoever he was, he clearly held no love for those who abused their power, but here in the capital, that didn’t narrow down the field. Maybe he was the son of a disenfranchised noble house, out to seek revenge by stirring up the common folk against their masters; or maybe he was an artisan with a stall in the market, no longer able to tolerate the injustices he saw every day. It was a mystery she would be unlikely to solve with the limited time she had.

“Lady Katara,” Attuk said, making her jump. “Prince Zuko is here.”

She ignored the excited little skip her heart made against her ribs. No matter how charming or earnest he seemed, he was still the enemy, and any attraction he might feel should be cultivated as an extra tool, or as a weakness if it could not be used to serve her purpose. That’s what Hama would, anyway, and if Katara’s thoughts wandered a bit too often too how he had warned her about Azula, or how he had returned her father’s hunting kit without thought of reward, she ignored that, too.

She checked her appearance in the mirror. Today she wore scarlet, following the tradition of the Fire Nation court, but her seamstress had been clever with the cut of the fabric. The layers of silk mimicked the light camel-wool cloth worn during polar summers, the traditional fur linings substituted for intricate golden embroidery. She knew few of the nobles were familiar enough with Water Tribe fashion to notice her quiet rebellion, but it was a comfort nonetheless.

“I’m ready,” she said.

Zuko looked happy to see her. At his side, a servant held an armful of scrolls she recognised as the Southern sagas she sent him a few days before, because it had seemed the best way to thank him for returning her father’s affects.

“You didn’t like them?” she asked, frowning, once the pleasantries were out of the way.

Zuko’s eyes widened. “No! I mean, I did like them,” he stumbled. “I couldn’t put them down, actually.”

“Really?” There was that flutter in her chest again.

“It’s so different to what the masters here think of as poetry. Uh, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he added, inching one hand up to rub the back of his neck. “It’s just that, I’ve always thought poetry was kind of hopeless, you know? Blossom always fades, animals die, and we’re all caught up in the wheel of the universe, unable to change things. Your sagas are just so… so vibrant, like it’s celebrating change rather than just letting it happen, like you can do something and it will matter. If you see what I mean.” He ducked his head with a bashful smile. “There were probably a lot of references I missed, and the stories were a bit more complex than what I’m used to, but I did enjoy them.”

Seeing him so animated about her culture brought an unexpected flush of happiness that tingled along Katara’s limbs, and she answered his smile with one of her own. “If you want to keep them a little bit longer to copy them, I wouldn’t mind,” she offered, without really thinking.

“Are you sure?” Zuko checked.

She shrugged. “We’re allies, aren’t we?”

“We are,” he agreed, the smile spreading to light up his whole face. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind, then I’ll have a scribe make a duplicate. They can be a present for my mother,” he added, as the thought came to him. “I’m sure she’d appreciate them. Maybe you could clarify a few things for me, in case there are problems with translations?”

“I’ll answer what I can,” she replied. “What do you want to know?”

Zuko’s smile faltered at a subtle gesture from his valet, and Katara realised their shared excitement had carried them into their own little world. Together, they were chivvied across to the palanquin, with a hurried but half-hearted lecture from the servant about the impropriety of keeping one’s guests waiting, though Katara suspected the real reason for the sudden rush was a fear that they would arrive after the Fire Lord. From what she knew of Fire Nation protocol, the higher ranking nobles got to arrive at social events later, so that they could appear fresh and composed next to those of lower rank who had already spent hours enduring the heat and boredom that inevitably came with these sorts of parties.

As he handed her into the palanquin, Zuko smiled sheepishly at her, and she found herself returning it. Hama would disapprove. She set about arranging her skirts in a fan to avoid crushing the silk beneath her weight, pleased that Zuko had remembered to draw up the blinds without her even having to ask.

“There’s more of a breeze today, don’t you think?” she said, when the silence between them grew brittle.

Zuko nodded. “It’s coming off the sea. Li and Lo say the monsoon is finally here, and they’re never wrong – but I hope the rain stays away for the rest of the evening.”

Katara smiled and nodded. She didn’t tell him she could feel the sea in her bones, churning up a storm that would snap the dry crackle in the air like a strand of spider silk. She ignored the feeling, for the most part, but the weather-change left her fretful, distracted. She had come very close to making up some excuse to cancel the party and stay in the inner courtyard of the house, where she could bend away her agitation without fear of being seen.

“The thunderstorms at this time of year are amazing,” Zuko was telling her. “So much raw power, and after so long without water, the countryside just bursts into life. We have a special pavilion at the palace just for listening to the sound the rain makes on the roof tiles. The storms won’t be better until later in the season, but if you would like to see it…”

“I’d love to,” Katara said, thinking about how she might be able to sneak away and find the Fire Lord’s office. “It sounds wonderful.”

“I suppose you have storms in the South?” he asked.

“Not quite like here,” she admitted. “We have blizzards, and there’s thunder and lightning in those, but often the wind is so loud and the storm so thick you can’t tell. Sometimes it’s dangerous to go outside because the snow turns you around and you end up lost within a few steps of your doorway.” She shuddered. “I think I still prefer it to this heat, though – at least when it’s cold you can put another parka on.”

“I’ve never seen snow. I know what it looks like, from reading, and that it’s frozen water, but… what’s it like?”

Katara was thrown by the wistful tone of the question. She didn’t know how to answer – how could she, when the snow and ice of the South had been as constant and natural to her as the water? And in a land of such heat, what was there to compare it to?

“I never really thought about it,” she said. “I’ve never had to think snow was like anything, it just is.”

Zuko looked thoughtful, digesting her answer. “What’s a sea wolf?”

“What?”

“One of the sagas mentioned them.”

“Oh.” Katara relaxed slightly. For a second, she had thought he meant to trap her, but the expression on his face was open, the bright gold of his eyes slanted in expectation of her answer. Something uneasy stirred across the skin at the back of her neck, but what could it hurt to tell him about sea wolves? They came to the South in the spring, Tui’s demon aspect chasing tiger seals through the streams of melting ice, their black fins stretching taller than a man above the water. They were respected, Katara explained, because they hunted as a group like humans did, and were cunning, and generous, and vengeful in defence of their families.

“I think I know what you’re talking about. We call them Shachi.”

Katara tried the word; it tangled on her tongue and made her giggle. By this time, they were passing along a broad avenue lined with mangingko trees, their bright yellow leaves fluttering in the wind coming off the sea.

“In some of the stuff I read,” Zuko ventured after a moment of silence, “there was a character called ‘sea wolf’. It was used like a title.” He seemed to be choosing his words, glancing at her sidelong and picking at a stray thread in the silk cushions. “I… I hope this isn’t rude, it just caught my eye and, um… it’s alright if you don’t want to answer, but it seemed like a pretty big deal.”

Katara felt tension creep back into her limbs. The storm air was getting to her, but worse than that was the sudden, choking fear that she had been found out. How much did he know? Did the royal guard escorting them draw closer?

No, she decided. If Zuko had any idea who she really was, he would have brought more soldiers with him. And if this was a test, then surely it was better to control the information he got rather than to arouse his suspicions further.

Be calm. Be still. Adapt to the flow around you.

“There was an old tradition,” she said, trying not to sound like she was working out how to lie. “‘Sea Wolf’ was an honour given to the most powerful waterbender in the South, carried until they could no longer carry out their duty.”

“And what was their duty?” Zuko asked.

“They were the people’s champion. When they died or wished to retire, they would choose their successor.” She smiled. “It’s all in the past, especially now that the Fire Nation are our allies. What need do we have of such things?”

Zuko frowned, as if puzzling something out. “If it’s all in the past, what happened to the last Sea Wolf?”

Katara froze at the question. Fire and screaming flashed in her memory, the heat and the guilt of seeing her people destroyed and being able to do nothing to stop it. Her fingers reached for the familiar comfort of the necklace at her throat.

“She died.”

Katara was surprised by the number of guests in green and yellow as Zuko led her through the grand moon arch and into the Fire Lord’s public garden. The Earth Kingdom nobles flittered through the Fire Nation court like hummingbirds around flowers, keeping up a sycophantic bubble of conversation over their glasses of chilled fruit punch. The sight of which had Katara clenching her fists inside her sleeves. How many Earth Kingdom citizens had died trying to fight the Fire Nation, only for the self-interested aristocracy to pander to the enemy in order to protect their own interests? With great effort, she smoothed her face into a smile, and allowed Zuko to lead her through the crowd and offer introductions.

“Oh, so you’re the little thing Her Grace has taken such a shine to. The Fire Lord is quite generous to keep you as he does, you know.”

“Is it true the Water Tribes still wear animal skins and live in huts?”

“How brave of you to wear such colours, with your skin tone. And those beads – how quaint!”

Katara replied to all the backhanded sniping with good humour, but only because it was fun to guess whether they would be more shocked or scandalized when Zuko came to her defence. While he lacked the delicate wit to ever really be a proper politician, he made up for it with dry sarcasm and a disdainful stare, made all the more effective because, as the Crown Prince, nobody could afford to insult him. She watched as one particularly pushy matron, no doubt hinting at a match between Zuko and her rather mousy daughter, tripped over and over herself trying to clarify a remark about Katara’s hair.

“Lady Katara,” Zuko interrupted smoothly. “I hope you will forgive my rudeness. I got so absorbed in presenting you to so many lovely people that I forgot you haven’t even got a drink yet. Will you accompany me?”

Katara took his offered arm and all but purred at the way the matron’s jaw dropped open. “Of course, Your Highness. I admit, my throat is quite dry after all this delightful conversation. I don’t think I’ve ever tried fruit punch before.”

“Then I’m glad I have the pleasure of introducing it to you,” he replied, and led her to a quiet corner of the garden shaded by a thick stand of bamboo. “I’m sorry for all of this,” he murmured when he was sure nobody would overhear. “I know they can be rather… not nice.”

“I can handle them,” Katara told him with a shrug. “Is something else bothering you?”

“What?”

She frowned at him. “You’re scanning the crowd like you’re expecting something to happen. Am I keeping you from meeting someone special?” she teased, unsure why she wanted to catch him off-guard.

“What?” he cried, colouring. “No! I’m just…” He sighed. “It’s Azula. She’s late.”

“And that’s unusual for her?” Katara asked.

“She’s up to something,” he growled.

“Maybe you can find out if anyone else knows where she is,” she suggested.

Zuko’s eyes widened. “You believe me?”

She shrugged. “You do remember I met your sister, right? No offence.”

“None taken,” he replied, with a slowly spreading grin. “Wait, I almost forgot – drinks! Will you wait here for me?”

Katara hummed. “If I stay here all by myself it’ll look suspiciously like I’m not enjoying the company, but if I go out there,” she gestured vaguely, “then I’ll be roasted alive.”

“By the sun or by the company?” Zuko joked.

“Take a wild guess.” She shook her head. “I’ll mingle. I still have to find Bato, anyway. I haven’t seen much of him recently.”

Zuko bit his lip, the way he did whenever she brought up any reminder that she was still under house arrest, or that she and the rest of her entourage were watched, but he nodded and promised to come find her later with drinks.

Good, let him feel guilty, Katara thought as she ventured back into the sea of nobles. It means he won’t look so hard at what we’re doing.

She didn’t get far before she felt somebody slink up behind her. Instinctively, she took hold of the water in the nearby pond, but before she could do any more, a tall, pale young woman stepped out in front of her. Everything about her was made up of precise, straight angles, from the severe line of her fringe across her high forehead to the crease where her sleeves folded at the elbow, to the lazy slant of her kohl-rimmed eyes. She held herself with the kind of poise Katara knew from experience could drop into a fighting stance at the slightest provocation – something everyone else must have noticed, too, because the majority of the nobles who looked at her deflected their attention quickly away.

“You don’t have to pretend to like them, you know,” the strange woman said.

Katara gave her a quizzical smile. “I’m sorry?”

“Those Earth Kingdom ninnies,” came the drawled reply. “They probably wouldn’t notice if you were mean since they’re trained not to make a fuss. One of the only fun things to do around here is to see how far you can push them before they resort to having a tantrum.”

“We haven’t met before, have we?” Katara replied, hoping to at least get a name from her new acquaintance.

“Azula told me about you,” the stranger said. “The Water Tribe Princess. I thought you’d be taller.”

“My name’s Katara.” And yours is…?

“I know. Azula was impressed with you, you know, even if she’d refuse to admit it.” The thin face split into a smirk like a shark’s. “You should have heard her. It got so boring, listening to her go on and on about how rude you were to her.”

“I’m sorry I inconvenienced you,” Katara replied, not sure what else to say.

A shrug. “You should take that as a compliment, actually. Being ‘rude’ to Azula simply means not being scared stiff of her. Anyway, my parents would be horrified to find me not circulating. These parties are always so dull.” She turned with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If you ever need a friend, my name is Mai.”

Relieved to be out of dangerous waters, Katara offered a polite nod of her head and made her way over to where Bato was standing with his attendants. They all wore Fire Nation uniforms and stern expressions, telling her in no uncertain terms that every word she shared with her father’s ambassador would be reported to Ozai or his agents. In a way, she was grateful, because it meant he wouldn’t have the opportunity to chastise her for being reckless – because she could tell by the deep furrow of his brow that he knew exactly how she had been spending her evenings.

“Having fun?” she asked.

“I’m looking forward to the play they’re putting on for us, but it’s too hot,” he replied, smiling. “Not that there’s much to be done about that.”

“I’ve been told the rains will come soon.”

“Oh, and will they?”

She nodded. “Soon enough.”

“I see.” Bato sucked in his cheeks, glancing at their escort. “How are things with you, day-to-day?”

“I had a letter from Mimi yesterday,” she told him. “Something about –”

A fanfare interrupted her. The Fire Lord had arrived. Ozai appeared at the top of the steps to the private wing of the palace with Ursa’s hand placed delicately on top of his, fantastically arrayed in layered scarlet and burgundy that glittered with golden thread. On anyone less sure of their own power, such a display might seem ridiculous, but the thought did nothing to stop the cold shiver that ran down Katara’s spine. The last time she had seen the Fire Lord, he had been hidden behind a wall of flame.

He spotted them and came over. She was glad for the steadying hand Bato laid on her shoulder.

“Our most honoured guests,” Ozai said silkily. “We are so glad you could join in the festivities.”

“We are pleased to be here, your Majesty,” Katara replied, with a bow. “The entertainment promises to be enjoyable.”

“My son, no doubt, has told you about it,” replied the Fire Lord, with only the smallest hint of a sneer. “He would do better to spend his time bringing to justice the perpetrator of the recent destruction in the harbour.”

Bato’s grip tightened on Katara’s shoulder. “As I have told you before, Your Majesty,” he said, “the Southern Water Tribe will do all in its power to assist our allies with the capture of those responsible.”

“Can’t such serious talk be left until after the party is over?” Ursa interjected. “This celebration is supposed to be a happy occasion, after all.”

“My wife, the peacemaker,” Ozai chuckled. Katara noticed how his grip tightened on Ursa’s fingers. “Very well. We will take our seats and see what the Ember Island Players have for us this year.”

“Lady Katara, would you sit with me?” Ursa asked.

“Of course, Your Grace.”

As a group, the Water Tribe ambassadors and the royal entourage of the Fire Nation made their way to a small stone courtyard beyond the garden, where a small stage had been set up in front of rows of cushioned wooden benches. For a moment Katara paused, waiting to see whether Zuko would appear as he had promised. When her hesitation threatened to grow conspicuous, she sat down between Ursa and Bato, leaving enough space that she could shift up if she needed to.

On the stage, a man dressed in fiery orange tassels spread his arms.

“That’s Agni,” Ursa explained to Katara. “The god of fire. He narrates the story because his omniscience allows him to take events and show humanity the lessons embedded in them.”

“… a tale of how two threads of Destiny were ripped in twain…”

“I see neither of my children deigned to honour their father by showing up,” Ozai growled. “How disappointing.”

“Your Majesty, Zuko is here,” Katara protested. “Somewhere. He escorted me to the party.”

“… and, once known to each other, how they – what is the meaning of this?”

Ozai’s sneering retort faltered as he looked to the stage, where Azula stood with a blue fireball on each open palm, towering over the man dressed as Agni.

“I’m afraid tonight’s show has been postponed,” she trilled. “What a shame. I do so enjoy Love Amongst the Dragons. How fortunate that I’ve come prepared with an alternative form of entertainment.”

The audience watched, transfixed, as four royal guards armed with poleaxes marched onto the stage, dragging an unconscious figure between them.

“Noble guests, honoured Father, the time for fear is over,” she announced. “I have caught the saboteur. May I presents the Blue Spirit.”

#zutara #zutara fanfic #zuko x katara #katara x zuko #zuko #katara #avatar #a:tla

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tipsycad147 · 5 years ago

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BONE MAGIC SERIES: BONES AND SKULLS: HOW TO USE THEM IN MAGIC 3

So I decided to break this post up into 3 different ones because it was so damn long. I wanted to make it as comprehensive as possible, including what the animal remain is from a scientific point of view and what the remain has been historically used for by magical practitioners around the world. In this post I am going to simply cover the use of skulls and bones in witchcraft. The next two posts will cover furs and pelts, followed by feathers, fangs, and claws (along with shells and blood). It is important to note that animal remains do not preserve well overall. That means for ancient cultures, much of what we have is either interpreted from historical texts or noted in myths and legends passed down between generations. Our knowledge is rather limited, but still available. Much of what we know about animal remain use comes from indigenous cultures, especially those of North America and Africa, so please keep this in mind.

Skulls and Bones

This is the one witches tend to be the most interested in, and for a good reason. Skulls in particular not only look really cool, but they are the protectors of the consciousness, making them excellent tools for spirit work and divination. Scientifically speaking the skull is the boney structure that forms the head in vertebrate organisms. It not only protects the brain but also provides attachment sites for the facial muscles and cartilage. Other bones provide protection and attachment sites for muscle and tendons, allowing movement and stature. For example, the ribs aid in protecting the lungs and heart, while the femur is specifically used in movement. In general, skulls and bones tend to preserve pretty well, especially in comparison to soft tissue, making them an easy magical tool for a witch that wishes to use them in their magical practice.

In witchcraft, skulls and bones have been used in a variety of ways. I mentioned some of these uses in my previous post on A History of Animal Remains in Witchcraft, but felt the need to expand on this topic. Historically, bones have been used in folk-medicine, divination, and spirit work. This includes using everything from the astragalus of a hare to whale ear bones. You name it, there is likely use for it. One of the most famous uses of a bone is the wish-bone from a turkey or other domestic fowl. Either side of the bone is held by a person and pulled until it breaks. The individual with the largest piece will have their wish granted. Other times, the wish-bone is hung above a door to bring love, likely due to its shape (source). The earliest use of bones was likely as amulets and fetishes. Archeological finds have uncovered thigh-bones of mammoths that were carried by nomadic cave dwellers from Belgium. The smaller bones, such as the carpus and tarsus, were perforated and worn as charms as seen in the Museum of Natural History in Brussels and Sommerville's collection at the University of Pennsylvania (source). Other early uses include bone-fires, known today as bonfires, where the bones of animals were ritually burned to appease a deity (source). Other early uses of bones include for divination, as mentioned previously in A History of Animal Remains in Witchcraft. The blade-bone of different animals, including sheep, deer, bear, and ox were used for divination since antiquity, and are still used by certain groups worldwide today. The blade bone was placed into a fire until it cracked in various directions. Once the bone cooled, the splits and cracks were carefully analysed. One method of reading suggests a long split lengthwise signified the "way of life," while good and bad fortune were read from the lateral cracks (source). In Scotland, the scapula was stripped of flesh and inspected for any semi-transparent parts of the bone. Dark spots were believed to symbolise misfortune, while black spots foretold death. The Irish used a similar practice, except darker spots indicated that someone will be burned out of the house (source). In Japan, scapulimancy dated back to the protohistoric period with the favoured bone being from a stag, which is outlined in Kojiki written in A.D. 712. The scorched bones were used to divine luck (source). These Japanese practices were very similar to those found in China, where oracle bones were used. To read about other cultures that also used scapulimancy please refer to my last post A History of Animal Remains in Witchcraft. While not complete, it discusses scapulimancy as well. I do not wish to repeat myself all over again, instead wishing to present you with new information. I also strongly encourage you to read Naskapi: The Savage Hunters of the Labrador Peninsula to learn more about bone use in North American indigenous cultures. This is by no means the only source, but it is pretty comprehensive and free.

Apart of divination, bones have also historically been used for protection. Across Europe, horse skulls have been found buried under churches, home hearths, in walls, chimneys, and even under threshing barn floors. Historians believe some of these skulls were placed for acoustic purposes, but many believe this explanation evolved later in history to explain away the skulls as many of the skulls found across Europe have no acoustical function. Much of the folklore associated with horses is concerned with luck (think horseshoe), and it is possible our ancestors placed the skulls in the home to bring luck as well as for protection (source). Cats were also commonly placed in the walls of buildings in across Europe, especially in England, Wales, and southern Scotland. It is believed the dried cats were placed in walls for two reasons: to protect the home from vermin and as a sacrifice to the home as the protector from pestilence (source). More commonly, however, animal bones were used in fetishes, an object believed to have magical properties or to be inhabited by a spirit. I could devote an entire post to fetishes alone, and likely will in the future, but for the sake of this article, be aware that fetishes include a variety objects, including the famed rabbit's foot. There is a great article on the rabbit's foot as a fetish you can read here. Bones have also commonly been used in folk medicine. The astragalus of a hare could be carried in the pocket as a charm against rheumatism while in powdered form it was drunk with water for its diuretic properties. Stag heart bone, a white irregular bone that is sometimes found in the heart of a stag or ox, was used to remedy heart troubles and prevent abortion. Dried pike jaw-bones were dried and powdered to cure leucorrhoea (not sure why they would be trying to cure this, but whatever) as well as to facilitate easy childbirth. Lamprey and lizard spines were given to children to strengthen their bones while powdered human bones mixed with red wine were believed to cure dysentery. You can read more about these uses in The Hand of Destiny. Today, skulls and bones are used for a variety of purposes. Skulls and bones can be used as a holding vessel during spirit work, whether by the spirit of the animal who originally inhabited the body, by other animals of the same species, or by other spirits entirely. Summoning or invoking a spirit to the vessel can aid you in your communion or spellwork by allowing you to draw from their qualities, especially those of animals. In ancestor work, the animal spirits inhabiting the bones can act as mediators, messengers, and even guardians or protectors during ancestral work or spellwork. As mentioned above, skulls can be used for divination by gazing into the eye sockets or even into the base of the skull. Being the seat of consciousness, any images or messages received are thought to be from the spirit inhabiting the skull. You may want to check your results with other divinatory methods to confirm the results. Furthermore, bones can be used as ritual adornments, ritual tools, in sachets or witch balls, as altar decorations, bone tarot, and other forms of spellwork that require the characteristics of the animal whose bones you are using. I tend to keep deer antlers around when hedge riding because deer are believed to be able to cross easily between realms. Recently, I invoked the spirit of the coyote by using a coyote skull during my deep house cleansing ritual.

In the end, there is a myriad of uses for bones in your craft, from spells to rituals to spirit communication. Have you used bones recently in your practice? I'd love to hear how you use animal bones to enhance your craft!

Willow

http://www.flyingthehedge.com/2019/03/bone-magic-series-bones-and-skulls-how.html

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pricefieldrulesall · 7 years ago

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Chapter 3: An unWarrented lie?

The sun rose on a beautiful June day, 8 months since Max had made the discovery about Rachel Amber and her true form, a Mermaid. Since that time, make had spent all her time in the Blackwell academy library, studying everything she could find about Mermaid lore and anything related to them. When she wasn't there she was in the Blackwell pool, building up her stamina by swimming laps. Also, she was now a fully certified diver, with well over 100 hours logged into the local pool and beach diving exercises. But she needed to go out further than just diving along the shoreline. She needed to be miles further out, perhaps retrace the path of the whale watching tour boat? Because that's where she had found Rachel, or perhaps where Rachel found her? She already knew of a possible way to get out that far. It would require talking to and convincing a friend she hadn't seen in a very long time. Max took her phone out of her pocket as she sat by the fountain at the front of Blackwell Academy. She punched in a number from her contacts, pushed talk and let it ring. She took a deep nervous breath. "Hello?!" An excited male voice answered. "Hey, Warren. It's Max." "Wow, Max. This is a surprise. I barely saw you all school year and now I get a call from the photography queen herself? What's the occasion?" "Yeah, I'm sorry about that Warren. I didn't mean to be so distant. I was just... Working my way through losing Chloe. She was my... Best friend." "Oh, Shit! I'm so sorry, Max! I didn't remember that she- look I'm so sorry about that." "It's ok. I should've let you and everyone else help me through this. But I just made sure that I was distracted and my focus was elsewhere. so I focused on school and a few other things. A new hobby or two?" "I see. Well so long as you remember that you're not alone in this. I'll always be here for you, Max!" "I know, Warren, thanks." Max replied. She then tugged at the collar of her shirt nervously, "Listen, the real reason I called was because I wanted to ask you a favour?" "Sure thing, Max. Go ahead!" Warren said encouragingly. "You still have your boating licence, right? You can go out onto the ocean from here on your parents boat?" "Well yeah , of course I have it. But why? What do you need it for?" Warren questioned. "Just... Feeling like trying out something new. Underwater photography maybe?" Max partially lied. "Huh, well... I suppose I could talk to my parents about letting me borrow it?" Warren answered, "But! What do I get in return?" Max began to blush, "Look at it this way, think of it as that date that I know that you've always wanted. Just you, me, some music and drinks out on the ocean? That sounds... Kind of romantic, doesn't it?" "Yeah! It kind of does! Alright, how about this Saturday? I'm sure I can convince my folks to let me use it! Hell if I have to do a months worth of chores to earn it, I will!" Warren exclaimed ecstatically. Max felt bad, this wasn't a date, not by a long shot. Because her heart still belonged 100% to Chloe, even after her death. But Warren was the only one who she knew that could help her. And he had proven he could be counted on in a tight spot. "Sounds good. I'll see you this Saturday then!" said Max as she hung up and put her phone beck into her pocket. "Soon... Please be there, Rachel"! Max thought to herself. "I need answers... Please let me find you again!" A few days later, Max and her mom were pulling up to the pier where all the boat docks were located. Her mom had moved to Arcadia Bay to keep an eye on Max since her suicide attempt. Though she didn't follow her 24/7, she just needed to be there to see Max off that day. "You're sure that you're ok with this? Going back out into the ocean again, Maxine?" Max's mom asked worriedly as they sat in the car together just off the pier, in the parking lot. "Yes, Mom. I promise that I'll be ok. Plus, Warren will be there with me. So I'm not going out alone. And the weather forecast is supposed to be clear, calm and sunny all day." Max replied wearily, "Can you please stop worrying and just trust me again?" "I'm sorry, Maxine. But any mother would be worried after their only daughter nearly drowned out there. And not at all by accident, but because she wanted to!" "Mom! Can you just stop!!" Max screamed angrily as she pounded the dashboard with her balled up fists. She then put her head in her hands and hung her head. She wanted, more than anything, to tell her mom all about her powers, what she had been through and how hard she had tried to save Chloe, but couldn't. All those events that happened were Max's burden alone to bear. Her own nightmare she had to live with. "Maxine, I'm... Sorry," Max's mom apologized, "I know how much Chloe meant to you." Max looked over at her mom with teary red eyes, "No, Mom... You don't. You never will understand just how much I really loved her." And two tear drops trickled from her eyes, ran down her cheeks and left glistening streaks that clung to her cheeks. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to make you so upset. Are you alright? Do you want to go home?" Max wiped her cheeks with the back of her plaid sleeved shirt, "No. I came her to do something and I'm going to do it! Besides, Warren is waiting for me. I promise, I'll be ok." "Alright, I'll stay at the dockside restaurant and wait for you to come back when you're ready." Max didn't want to argue, but at least her mom didn't ask to come along in the boat with them too. So Max nodded and exited the car and headed to the back to retrieve her trunk. Down at the docks, Warren was waiting down by his parents small twin engine pleasure craft boat. It wasn't much bigger than a standard fishing boat. But it would get them to where they needed to go. Warren then looked up from his phone and saw Max making her way towards him, dragging a rather large looking trunk with wheels behind her. He chuckled as she had finally reached him and set her trunk down and breathed heavily. "Hey, Warren!" Max greeted as she wiped her sweaty brow. "Checking in?" Warren asked as he peered around Max and looked at her luggage, "Just how much stuff did you need for a simple pleasure cruise date?" Max shrugged nonchalantly, "Just the bare essentials. We ready to go?" "Oh, Yes we are!" Warren said as he stepped aside and held his arms out, "Step aboard, Miss! Let Captain Warren Graham take you out to sea!" Mad chuckled and stepped down from the docks onto Warrens boat, she then grabbed her trunk and began to drag it aboard as well. Warren, bring a gentleman, grabbed the other side has helped her get it aboard, he too then stepped into the boat and headed for the wheel. Max took a seat at the back, her heart was being fast with anticipation as soon all her months of work would be put to the test as she searched for Rachal Amber amongst the ocean depths. Warren then began to pull away from the docks, and once he was safely away, he gave the boat some throttle and he and Max began to head towards the outer ocean together. @themooseofanna here you go, chapter 3 of a story I thought you might like? The other chapters are on my blog incase you missed them?

#life is strange #Rachel Amber #Max Caulfield #chloe price #mermaid #fantasy #lis #dontnod #arcadia bay #love

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