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themonstrousarchives · 4 years ago

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Hunt: The Deer Man

Deer man [][][][][][][][][][] HP, Armor: 2

Description: An antlered, hulking bipedal creature with powerful digitigrade hind legs ending in long bear paws. It is musclebound and covered in thick patches of fur. Its eyes are on the sides of its head much like a normal deer, but they reflect and shine red.

Type: Beast (running wild, destroying buildings and those who get in its path) Powers: extremely fast, strong, and perceptive. Hunters must be cautious in approaching or it bolts. Its adaption to the flesh means that it’s constantly growing- the Keeper rolls a d6- if it rolls a 5 or a 6 it heals 1-harm) Attacks:

Antler Charge: 3-harm, close, forceful, restraining

Claws- 2-harm, ignore armor, close

Kick- 2-harm, close

Weaknesses: Slaughter or Hunt aligned entity/creature/artefacts, Capture with a cage given by a specific NPC, Aiming for the heart and lungs angled from behind the shoulders

Bystanders:

Esqivel de Murio (Witness)- Will drop in on anyone investigating his escaped pet, and ask them not to kill it. He would catch it, but he’s busy. If he likes the Hunter(s), he will offer them a cage to capture it. Esqivel de Murio is tall and pale- his white hair and red-purple eyes betray him as albinistic. He also has body modifications- many piercings but his accessories are small and tasteful. When he speaks, he annunciates carefully around a forked tongue and fangs. He wears expensive clothes- cashmere sweaters and a fur coat.

Priscilla Livingston-Clarke (Victim/Witness)- Priscilla was hiking on the trails around the country club when she very narrowly avoided getting rammed by the deer man. She can give a rough physical description, and suggest the specific aiming for a proper “deer hunt” having been on one or two with her father. Once she reaches the party she has about a minute before the adrenaline runs out and she requires medical attention. The woman- nay, lady, before you is blonde and wearing nice athletic gear- visor, yoga pants, very nice running shoes, an armband for her smartphone. Her large blue eyes betray a profound innocence, though they have a doe-eyed terror to them right now.

Alice Pearson (Victim)- a quiet groundskeeper, landscaper, and gardener at the country club who is likely to find her way into the trajectory of the beast later into the mystery. Depending on how thorough the group is, she will be proportionately harmed. If they are particularly negligent, she may die. This young woman is tanned with dark wavy hair. She’s wearing workman’s coveralls over a purple shirt, and you can see a Star of David pendant on a necklace though it catches and slips behind the overalls.

Locations:

The Country Club- The country club is currently hosting an event that the PCs (or at least a few of them) would feasibly attend. The main room is set up as an open gallery through which members of the club are walking, snacking on hors d’oeuvres. Caterers silently bustle from the kitchen behind a bar on one end. A room on the opposite end has dining tables set up. A patio on the southern side shows the expansive view of a well-maintained golf course. This is a good place for the PCs to meet up and begin to banter. Esqivel de Murio is here for this event. The patio is where the Deer Man can be seen from as it crawls out of the woods briefly.

The Green- The golf course below the country club is expansive and well maintained- a long, sloping stretch of grass with tree hazards more than water hazards. Exploring this stretch will take a while, though with carts it will take less time. Heading to the spot that you saw the creature stumble out of the woods, you can find what looks like a small rest spot- a few foldable chairs and a collapsible table have been ransacked. Sleuthing can help determine more information about the monster- its size, claw marks, strange tracks.

Forest trails- Surrounding the golf course and above the country club are dirt hiking trails, for those who prefer a walk or run to the other amenities the country club offers. They tend to get narrow when the forest gets more dense. Every so often, make the Hunters roll Act Under Pressure to stick together. If the party is proactive, they might meet Priscilla before she has her encounter. She will be oblivious to the Deer Man but maybe less injured if the group warns her before it happens.

Landscaper’s Shack- Off the side and out of view of the country club, there lies a landscaper’s shed. It’s larger than the average backyard shed on account of having space for a cart, but it is otherwise rather drab. More importantly, the door is hanging off its hinges and the frame has been powerfully damaged. Inside, gardening tools are scattered about, making it dangerous to walk carefully. As a Hunter steps in, they realize the dark puddle isn’t just muddy water. Alice will be varying states of injured depending on how much the group has messed around unproductively. While inside, the Deer Man can’t charge because of the close quarters. During combat, the rattling gardening tools can catch the players for circumstantial damage. Any End avatar PCs will have to Act Under Pressure in order to not End Alice Pearson.

The Countdown:

The deer monster escapes the de Murio residence

The deer monster stumbles onto the Green, destroying carts as it escapes back into the woods

Priscilla encounters the deer monster on the trails while hiking

Esqivel visits a Hunter to ask for their help in retrieving his pet

Alice gets injured while preparing the country club for the next day

The deer monster hunts hikers in the woods around the country club for years after, evading capture

Cold Open:

The moon is high on this particular night in January. Deep in the forest by the city of Arcata, CA, isolated by the trees and rolling mountain ranges, an old manor groans with age. Or so the manor’s proprietor believed. Far from the master bedroom, a large barn creaks, and creaks, and creaks... until something finally snaps. A large, shambling shape pushes out of the ruined stall in the darkness and skulks into the woods.

#the magnus archives #tma motw #monster of the week #deer man #ttrpg homebrew #the monstrous archives #Hunt: Deer Man

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gongju-juice · 5 years ago

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3. Once Upon a Southern Night

Something Old, Something New

Warnings: Some racial tension. . .also might be some language but I can’t remember tbh

The thing about change is that it’s just that—change. You can change something, twist it, mold it, or turn it into whatever you wish for it to look like, but you cannot ever get rid of its original identity.

Living in Forks was no short of that. Life was a blessing, and your days were filled with laughter and excitement. Beginning your senior year—Jasper had graduated—but the two of you were dating and closer than you’d ever been. He took you on dates to see the stars and bought you flowers and little trinkets to brighten your day. You read books in his lap and went on double dates with Amelia and her boyfriend, Stuart.

You knew something was strange about your family—so much so that your mother’s weirdness no longer seemed so personalized. Maybe it was the fact they never ate around you, or maybe it’s the account of their golden eyes. And like your mother (and everyone else, frankly), your boyfriend was so inhumanly cold, like a Roman statue left in an icy museum.

But what did you look like asking such crazy questions? After all, what else could it be but coincidence? As for your mom and Carlisle, they were siblings—it was normal for them to share the same traits. But as for the others—Rosalie and Jasper were twins—and although they were different personality wise, they both had the same pale skin and bronze colored eyes. Maybe the old saying is true: living together with someone really does make you look alike.

One day while your family all hung out at the Cullen house, you received a letter in the mail. It was a bright, shimmering white envelope with fancy lace trimming. You opened it carefully—sure not to cut yourself so as to not to trigger Jasper’s weird paranoia around blood.

“Oh my god!” you shouted, running into the living room. You looked at your mom. “Ivy and Dale are getting hitched!”

“Wow, Ivy?” she said. “I remember the two of you growing up like it was yesterday. When’s the date?”

“March 5. It’s going to take place on Dale’s parents’ farm. The reception’s going to be in the big barn house!”

You whirled in excitement, only to dizzy yourself into Jasper’s arms when you realized you’d fallen. He brushed a stray curl from your face.

“A wedding?” he said. “I thought Ivy was only seventeen.”

“You can get married in Alabama at sixteen with parental consent. I’m sure the Lauderdales were thrilled to hear of the good news. Dale has been hanging ‘round since we were six.”

You popped back onto the floor. “I’ve gotta find a dress and everything! Oh wait—I should call and see if we’re doing matching dresses or if we’re all gonna be wearing different ones.”

You picked up your phone and raced to the kitchen where you could find some privacy and feel free to freak out some more. She picked up on the third ring.

“Lucille!” you cried, “I can’t believe it’s finally happening! Please send me a picture of the ring ASAP, okay?”

She giggled. “It’s not a big deal, Y/N. We’ve been engaged since we were twelve. It’s just that now we’ve got that ice and permission to prove it.”

The phone buzzed and you looked at the image of the triple diamond ring which had a band of diamonds all around. You recognized that ring. It was Dale’s grandmother’s sacred family heirloom, the one that’s been locked up tight in their security safe. He only let you and her see it once when you were both thirteen and his parents were out in the field.

“I’m so excited for the bachelorette party!” you gushed. “We’re going to have so much fun! We should go to Pensacola and go to one of them spa places and then we can—”

“Y/N,” she said quietly, cutting you off entirely. “You’re not on the bridesmaids list.”

You were quiet, your flailing arms caught in mid air. “I’m not. . .but you said—”

“I’m sorry, girl, but Mama already chose who's going to be in my wedding. There’s

Charlotte, Mary, Clarabelle, and Lydia. . .the ones I grew up with.”

“But. . .what about me? Didn’t. . .didn’t we grow up together?”

“Yeah, but. . .it’s just not the same, you know? Those people are family. You can still come to the wedding, of course. That’s why I sent the invitation.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel hurt. Here was your best friend telling you that you couldn’t be in the wedding. Mrs. Lauderdale. . .you thought she really liked you. Was it because you moved up north?”

“Oh, alright then. I was just—just calling to confirm the date. March 5, right?”

“Yeah, March 5.”

You hung up the phone and sighed at the counter, your head hung down. Just then, Jasper came walking in. He came up behind you and held you in place, his head resting on your shoulder. Suddenly, your mood improved instantly. But that was the thing about Jasper—he was always brightening your day when you felt down. It was part of the reason you adored him.

“You okay?” he whispered. “You know you don’t got to go to that wedding?”

You shook your head. “Of course I do. It’s my best friend’s wedding. How could I miss her big day? Besides. . .how did you even know I was sad?”

He stiffened. “I. . .uh. . .heard the conversation in the hallway.”

“Oh, well I guess that makes sense.”

He held you for a while against the hard granite.

“Jasper?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Will you be my date to the wedding?”

“Absolutely.”

Rosalie was the one officially in charge in helping you pick your dress. Alice had a vengeful streak and wanted you to wear a big, white gown that would take all the attention away from Ivy.

“It’s wayyyy too hot in the south for that,” you pleaded, “and I ain’t trying to cause no trouble! It’s her Mama who did it, not Ivy.”

“She should’ve overridden that stupid decision then,” Alice continued, braiding your hair. It was still funny to know that the tiny pixie girl knew how to do a full-set of box braids. “If it was my wedding—”

“But it isn’t your wedding,” Rosalie insisted. “And Ivy isn’t your friend. Now like I was saying, Y/N, this little yellow sundress would look so cute with your skin tone. . .”

They even hooked up Jasper. They got him a nice cornflower blue dress shirt and a cream colored suit. Emmett even put on a whole show of picking his hairstyle, and even though they went through all that progress and hard work, you kindly reminded them that a heat wave was coming the weekend of the wedding and that it was best just to leave his curls the way they were. Jasper did not take kindly to his brother after that.

“Why don’t you come with us?” you asked your mom as she helped you pack the last of your luggage. “It’s gonna be so lonely with just me and Jasper. And besides, I’m sure everybody wants to see you!”

“No, no, I can’t. I’m scheduled for a surgery the day of the wedding. I can’t cancel it either. It’s a cancerous tumor that needs to be removed.”

You sighed, sitting up on your bed. “I can’t believe it’s here. She’s getting married, mom. We’re all going to be adults and pretty soon, if things go to according to plan, me and—” You cut yourself off as the overwhelming thought engulfed you.

“That’s right. You and Jasper will have your own wedding someday. . .speaking of which. . .we need to talk about the future.”

“The future?”

“Yes,” she sat on your bed. “There are some things you need to know before you set your eyes on your own big day. We’ll talk about that all soon, I promise. But as for now, go and enjoy yourself with Jasper. You’ll have him all to yourself. . .”

“Mom!” you shouted. “Jasper—he’s too sweet for that. He’s a real gentleman! It hasn’t even been that long ago since we had our first kiss, and he was scared to even do that!”

She raised her brows. “Hmmm, maybe that’s what he wanted you to think. But guys are never shy when it comes to that subject.”

The next day, your family wished you off at the airport. Jasper bought you first class tickets—a feat you deemed both extravagant and unnecessary—and you slept on his shoulder for most of the way.

Immediately, touching down in your home state, everything felt so different. It was humid and hot; the type of sticky that makes your hair stick to the back of your neck, and people were so much more cordial then they were back at Forks. Some gave Jasper strange looks as he wound his fingers with yours, but again, nobody was unpleasant.

You would be staying at a hotel about thirty miles out from the country. There were, thankfully, two queen sized beds parallel to one another in the tiny room. But Jasper insisted sleeping in the living room part where a half wall separated the two of you.

On the big day, your boyfriend pulled out an authentic cowboy hat (the likes you’d never seen before), and the two of you headed down Ivy’s long dirt road.

Fields of cotton and peas lined either side of the road, and for long stretches, there were no houses except the occasional large country home with animals and plots of cultivated land. The ditches teemed with life: jumping frogs, tadpoles, crawfish, and lillies.

“Gosh, it’s been so long since I’ve been in the country,” he said. “This place isn’t much different from home.”

“Home? In Forks?”

“Rose and I—before we were adopted—used to live in Texas.”

“Really? That explains your accent! I just thought you watched too many western flicks. Oh, but why doesn’t Rosalie have one?”

“Well, she just hides it, I guess.”

You arrived at the house. There was a trail of cars already parked in the grassy yard, and people made their way in their finest Sunday’s best to the row of chairs arranged in front of the big oak tree where the minister stood.

“Y/N!” one of your old childhood friends exclaimed when she saw you. She was dressed in a teal dress, and at her side was some unknown boy you hadn’t met. “It’s so good to see you!” She looked at your boyfriend. “And who’s this?”

“Jasper Hale, ma’am, I’m her date for the evening,” he answered, tipping his hat. The row of women waiting to greet you gushed at his manners, and dare you say, they checked him out so openly. You hugged his bicep tighter.

“Just for the evening or indefinitely?” she cooed.

“Indefinitely.”

You sat down in one of the middle rows, and watched in awe as the wedding processional came down the aisle. Ivy was dressed in a glittery dress and carried the largest bouquet of white roses you’d ever seen. Dale had tears in his eyes as he looked up at his bride. They were so perfect, so in love, it made your insides melt.

After the beautiful ceremony, the party moved the barn. The rafters were draped in lights and white ribbons and flower petals covered the ground. You chose a table nearest to one of the wooden walls and curled into Jasper’s side.

“You look so gorgeous,” he said, tucking a dandelion behind your ear. “You out-shined the bride, and you didn’t even have to wear that ridiculous dress Alice was trying to shove you in.”

“All of my girlfriends keep whispering about you. You’re the real star tonight. The best looking man in both Washington and Alabama.”

Just then, Mrs. Lauderdale approached your table.

“Y/N, how are you honey?” she asked as you hugged her plump form. As the mother of the bride, she was dressed in a simple white dress and rocked a crown of flowers in her hair.

“I’m wonderful. Have you met my boyfriend?” You allowed her to inspect Jasper as he offered a hand.

“My, my. What a fine young man,” she cried. “Who knew you could get such a catch?”

She pulled you off to the side, and although Jasper tried to follow, you insisted he stay behind.

“I hope you aren’t upset about the whole bridesmaid situation,” she said, patting your shoulder. “We wanted a small processional anyway—makes it so we can get to the food faster.”

You shook your head. “‘Course not. It was such a beautiful ceremony. And Ivy—she’s stunning,” you said as you admired her twirling form with her new husband.

“Well anyway, John and the guys want to see you. John?”

Mr. Lauderdale greeted you with a nod. “How’s it going?”

“All good here,” you answered enthusiastically. In all honesty, John and his friends intimidated you with their skeptical expressions and hawk-like eyes. It was obvious the men of the family didn’t like you as much as the girls did—and that was fine. You were here for Ivy, not them.

“You got yourself a white boy?” Vernon, Ivy’s brother, asked. “A Yankee?”

“Actually, Jasper’s a Texan. And yes, he’s white. But it isn’t weird or anything.”

Like he was in on the conversation, he smoothly slid in beside you, his cold hand wrapping around your waist.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said as he addressed the men. “I’m a Houston native, by the way. I was raised on a farm myself—had a chocolate brown mare named Buttercup and a field full of bulls.”

“Ah, really? That makes me even more surprised to see you here.”

“Pardon me?”

Vernon smirked. “Y’all go and enjoy yourselves.”

Jasper pulled you away from the barn with a little more determination than you thought was needed. He hadn’t looked nor spoken until the two of you were completely alone by the fence where the ponies ran.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly. “You seem upset.”

“It’s nothing. I didn’t like the way those boys were talking. Had to get outside and clear my mind.” He pulled you closer to his body, and his cool skin felt good in the heat of the night.

“Holding you like this makes me get so sentimental,” he admitted. “It makes me want to take you to the nearest courtyard and get official. It makes me want to buy you a hundred acres and a big, nice house by a river. It makes me want to give you a bunch of kids to keep us company, so we can grow old together and live happily ever after.”

“I like when you get sentimental,” you breathed.

“But,” he stopped, “that last part might not be able to happen. There’s something you should know about me—about our family before you decide to give your heart away.”

“What do you mean? What could possibly be so earth-shattering that it’d make me stop loving you?”

He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, staring deeply into your eyes. His brows were creased, forehead wrinkled in thought.

“Y/N, I wanted to wait to tell you, but I can’t stand lies. Most importantly, I don’t like to lie to you.”

“Just say it, baby.”

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness.

It was a tall man, about the same height and build as Jasper, with bright crimson eyes and long dark hair tied back in a ponytail. He stared at you intensely before casting his burning gaze to Jasper.

“It’s been a long time, old friend,” he said darkly before inhaling deeply. “And it’s been even longer, Camille.”

And here the real story begins. Also I like cowboy Jasper playing with ponies maybe I’ll do a drabble on that.

Part One Part Two Part Four

#jasper hale #jasper hale imagines #jasper hale x reader #twilight #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #esme cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie hale #alice cullen #cowboy jasper 'cause i said so #i asked my mama if i could be a horse rider and she said no

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alicebluetrading-blog · 5 years ago

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Alice Blue Online trading, Brokerage Charges, Demat Account, Trading Platforms & more. Open alice blue trading account online. Aliceblue account opening.

#Alice Blue Online trading

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aerynwrites · 6 years ago

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In Each Other’s Arms

Connor/RK800 x Reader

This was requested by @eren-yeager-titan-shifter

Request: “Ohh how about a Connor x reader where they go on an undercover mission and have to pretend to be a couple and they have to share a hotel room or something. Idk I just love this kind of fluff!”

Word Count: 1,185

Warnings: Cursing, fluff :)

Author’s Note: *dislcaimer: i know that most people don’t think androids sleep, but i think they do since with Kara and Alice, Kara has the option to sleep with alice. ANYWAYS...onward* This was a ton of fun to write! GOD, I LOVE WRITING CONNOR SO MUCH!!! Thank you so much for requesting this! And as always i hope you enjoy!

------------------------------------------

Since you’ve been working for the DPD, you’ve never had to go on any undercover operations. However, all of that changed due to a ruthless and efficient red ice trafficking ring. You were partners with Hank and Connor, and when Fowler came and bore the news that they want a couple to go undercover to try and bust the drug ring, you and Connor were the two best people. While you were both a fairly new couple, you were the only couple in the red ice investigation team, so you guys got stuck with the job. Connor immediately jumped on the opportunity to hunt down the drug dealers, while you were more hesitant. You knew things could go south fast, and you wanted to be prepared.

So, while you and Connor packed a few outfits to last you a couple of days and took a taxi to the hotel you all talked over every foreseeable outcome. You still seemed worried, despite Connors attempts to assure you that things would go according to plan.

You worried your lip between your teeth as you look out at the rainy Detroit sky, startled a bit when Connor took your hand in his. You looked over to him to see him looking at you with concern.

“Everything will be all right.” He stated intertwining his fingers with yours, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You smiled lightly at his words, “I know Connor, I just- “you sighed squeezing his hand, “I just worry is all. This is my first undercover mission.”

Connor opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as the taxi pulled to a halt outside of the hotel you both would be staying in.

“You have arrived at your destination, your total charge will be added to your account, thank you for using Detroit Taxi!” the car chimed.

Connor exited the car, holding his hand out for you to take as you exited the vehicle. You accepted, grabbing the overnight bag that held both of your clothes and walked into the hotel. you walked up to the reception desk and retrieved your room key and entered the elevator, punching in the number to your floor.

You sighed and leaned against the elevator wall, “I’m so ready to get to bed. That car ride took forever.” You stated.

Connor nodded in agreement, “It has been a long day. you need to receive adequate rest to ensure our utmost efficiency for tomorrow’s mission.” he stated.

You laughed at his wording as the doors to the elevator dinged open. You grabbed his hand and walked with him to your shared room, “Come on thesaurus, lets get in here and get settled.”

Connors eyebrows scrunched together at your nickname for him, “Thesaurus?”

You chuckled as you opened the door, but you sucked in a breath when you walked in the door. Connor joined you in the room and looked around, he too noticed the dilemma at hand.

There was only one bed.

You walked over and picked up the small note on the foot of the bed and read over it quickly. You huffed in frustration, “That motherfucker! I’m gonna kill him!” you growl, throwing the note on the ground, preferring to occupy yourself with unpacking your bag.

Connor stooped down to pick up the discarded note and read the words messily scrawled onto the page.

Don’t have too much fun…you are on the clock.

Sincerely, Hank

Connor felt his face flush as he read the note left by his friend. He may be new to human ways, but he didn’t miss the second meaning behind the letter. He threw the note in the trash and moved to help you unpack. You both moved silently, yet in sync. You pulled things from the bag and Connor would put them away and when you were done Connor held out your sleep wear, indicating you to change.

You didn’t say anything as you accepted the clothing and walked into the bathroom to change. Connor’s LED flashed yellow at the unusual quietness from you. You were always talking and joking with him…did you really find the predicament that off putting. Connor tried to find reasons behind your behavior as he quickly changed into more casual attire. A set of sweatpants you had bought him, as well as an old t-shirt Hank had lent him. he didn’t have many clothes besides his work uniform.

You walked out of the bathroom just as Connor slid his shirt over his head, you felt yourself blush as you caught sight of Connors bare chest. It’s not like you were new to this thing, but like you said earlier, you and Connor were very new as a couple. You hadn’t done anymore than a simple kiss, plus the stupid note Hank left, and the fact that there was only one bed made you even more uncomfortable. you went to speak but Connor beat you too it.

“I’m sorry if this situation makes you uncomfortable. I will sleep in the chair if you would like.” You don’t miss the hurt in Connors voice, it wasn’t very evident, but you could tell by the look on his face.

You smile and walk over to stand in front of your boyfriend grasping his hands and looking up at him, “No, you don’t have to sleep in the chair. I was just blindsided by the fact that there was only one bed.” You stated.

Connor beams at you a look of surprised following closely after, his LED flashing yellow, “So you are not upset we have to sleep together?” he asked.

You chuckle slightly and move away to pull the covers of the bed down, “Well, I definitely didn’t expect to share a bed with you…but it was going to happen at some point, right?” you slipped under the covers and turned the lamp on your side of the bed off.

When you didn’t feel the bed shift you looked over to still see Connor standing in the same place, looking at you uncertainly. You rolled your eyes and patted the empty space beside you.“Well come on silly! I’m tired.” You stated. Connor practically jumped in his spot before he walked over and filled the empty space beside you, shutting his light off and blanketing the room in darkness, save for the dim blue glow of his LED.

You both sat in silence for a few moments trying to figure out what to do, before you felt Connor shift closer to you and put his arm around your waist.

“Is this okay?”

You felt your heart speed up, but turned around to face him, “Y-yes. That’s fine.” You stuttered.You leaned up and caught his lips in a kiss, which he quickly returned. You smiled into the kiss and pulled away, curling into Connors chest, his arms wrapping more securely around your waist.

“Goodnight Connor, love you.”

Connor smiled and kissed your forehead, “Goodnight, I love you too.” he stated, his thirium pump beating a bit faster in his chest.

You both listened to the others breathing until you fell into a peaceful slumber, wrapped safely in each other’s arms.

#detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #dbh connor x reader #dbh connor #dbh hank #dbh rk800 #dbh rk800 x reader

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aamccarthy · 6 years ago

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Lucifer and Thomas - The Serpah Flame

Wattpad Link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/186855778-lucifer-and-thomas

Artwork Master List

Chapter 1 - 10 Master List

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

--------

Leviathan turned and with a boyish smile on his face, he waved to Alice and Thomas as they departed. Lucifer walked ahead and crossed his arms behind his head, glancing back at the General in question. “So? What’s happened?”

The smile dropped from Leviathan’s face and his face darkened. “I’ve lost contact with Asmodeus and Astaroth.”

Lucifer stopped and heaved a sigh. He stomped his foot on the ground twice and flame consumed him, transporting him to Hell. Blinking, he realised that he had forgotten to transform back. Making a sound of annoyance, he reached his arms upwards, stretching as he burst into his Satan form, just as Leviathan appeared behind him, his black-blue wings unfurled. “Did you want me to go after them?”

Turning back, Lucifer eyed Leviathan, a frown on his face. “No,” he turned and walked out of the room, ��If it were just Astaroth, I would say yes, but Asmodeus is with her. As a Seraph, he can hold his own.” He closed his eyes momentarily, as if concentrating on something then opened them. “I can sense them both. Faintly, but they are there.”

Leviathan grimaced slightly as he rubbed his chin, deep in thought. “What,” He started, then stopped, raising his dark blue eyes to look at Lucifer, “What if the Empyrean got ahold of them?”

A dark smile crossed Lucifer’s lips, “Then that’s the safest place they can be. The Empyrean want me and the only good bait for them worth having is live bait. We both know this.” Lucifer walked off down the hallway and waved his hand, “They’ll be fine. I doubt they have been captured.”

“But Sire-!”

Lucifer stopped and turned as black flames consumed his being. “Leviathan, if it comes down to it, I will rip open Heaven myself and take them back.” He turned his head, his eyes darkened, “Father knows I won’t abandon any of you, so he won’t make a pointless gamble like that just to draw me out. Now, go make yourself useful.”

Leviathan dropped to one knee, bowing his head, “Of course, Sire. I will keep a watch for any portals and assist where needed.” A purple flame rose up from the ground, consuming Leviathan as he disappeared.

Lucifer walked down the hallway, the clop of his hooves again the stone floor echoed as he walked. He turned down another hallway then walked into a small cavern lined with books. He ran his finger along the spines before picking out a book with a dark blue cover. He didn’t think he would find anything in the texts his Father had left upon Earth, but he needed to confirm.

Flicking through it, he opened it and began to read.

So I drove you in disgrace from the mount of God,

and I expelled you, guardian cherub,

from among the fiery stones.

Your heart became proud

on account of your beauty,

and you corrupted your wisdom

because of your splendor.

So I threw you to the earth;

I made a spectacle of you before kings.

By your many sins and dishonest trade

you have desecrated your sanctuaries.

So I made a fire come out from you,

and it consumed you,

and I reduced you to ashes on the ground

in the sight of all who were watching.

All the nations who knew you

are appalled at you;

you have come to a horrible end

and will be no more.

A soft chuckle began to echo in the small cavern, “So this is the false story you tell to humans, Father.” He closed the book, feeling a surge of anger burn through his body. “You truly are a proud man.” Lucifer glanced at the book before him with a red gleam in his eye. He almost wanted to burn the stupid piece of literature, but he knew he shouldn’t. Knowledge was power and it would be foolish to destroy any bit of knowledge that Heaven left behind, false or not.

“Mum says that God was mean to humans, and when the Angels stood up for them, he threw them into Hell.”

Lucifer paused, remembering the young child’s words. He pushed the book back into its original spot, a small smile on his face, “You’re a strange one.”

---

“I am the Prince of Thrones, Ruler of the First Circle of Hell. Astaroth.” Astaroth stood with her wings fully expanded, her emerald green eyes looked down at Gabriel with a burning fury.

He looked over at the woman that stood before him; she had a pair of beryl-coloured wings at her back, and behind her floated a wooden wheel, covered in blinking green eyes. Her hair was black at the top and drifted down to a forest green, hanging past her shoulders. The wooden wheel was turning back and forth in anticipation. There was no doubt about it, this woman was definitely a Throne, and a powerful one at that. He could feel her malice seeping out with her Essence.

“You were banished. The Fallen are not welcome in any of the Spheres of Heaven.” Astaroth felt her head pound and she felt herself shake in rage. She knew that. She knew that they were not welcome. That they were banished. That they were cast from Heaven. The pupils in her eyes contracted and flashed red once. The eyes on the wheel behind her turned red and glowed.

Gabriel let out a snarl as golden fur enveloped his body, the feathers across his chest disappeared, replaced by fur. His cloven oxen feet stretched and paws emerged in their place and a golden brown mane embraced his face as he took on the form of a humanoid lion.

Astaroth’s eyes narrowed - she was familiar with Berith’s transformations, and he too only adopted his lion form for battle. It was a pattern of Cherubs to take this form.

‘-roth. Astaroth. Astaroth!’ She could hear a voice in her mind, but she pushed it to the side, ignoring it. The pounding of her blood echoed in her ears and she felt the power of the Throne flow through her.

“You are not welcome here. Disappear.” Memories of being banished floated across her mind. The same words were handed to her by her Father when she protested her banishment.

“Shut up.” She hissed as she clenched her hands into fists. “Shut your mouth.”

Gabriel raised his fist, his golden eyes glowed, “You dare tell me to be silent?” He reached out with his hand and Astaroth felt the pressure around her body again as he attempted to crush her. She hissed and the wheel behind her turned as a green glow enveloped her body. “Do you think your power can defy me? I am a Cherub and you are a Throne. A Throne cannot hope to defeat a Cherub, that is the law of the Spheres of Heaven.”

She gritted her teeth, resisting the pressure. As much as she loathed to admit it, he was right. A Seraph has twice the power of a Cherub and a Cherub had twice the power of the Throne. Even with her powers as a Fallen, she would still struggle to close the gap. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to gage the options. She could call forth a Cataclysm, but to summon one in the Primum Mobile was just begging the Empyrean to come down upon them. No, she couldn’t fight using the powers of a Fallen, she would have to use her powers as a Throne.

A smile crossed her face as a realisation came to her. While she may not have the strength to stand toe to toe with a Cherub, the Angels of Heaven had one main weakness. They could not sin.

Her lips turned upwards at this realisation as she looked at each of the angels around her, their heads were still bowed to the ground, bound by the power of her Throne. Her eyes glowed briefly as she raised her arm and the wheel behind her turned. At once, all of the Angels in the library charged forward, attacking Gabriel. He leapt back, avoiding the Angels that rushed at him. She felt the pressure around her disappear and she leapt back, standing atop wheel walking across it’s outer edge as it slowly turned on the spot.

‘Astaroth! Forget him! Focus on the barrier!’

Gabriel snarled, punching and knocking out each of the Angels that rushed at him. “This isn’t a fight. This is dirty.” He hissed, as he grabbed an Angel by the throat and threw them at the ground, causing them to pass out.

“This is battle.” Astaroth replied as she grinned with glee. Her steps were light as she continued stepping along the top of her wheel, increasing her speed as she walked, causing the wheel to turn faster. Several of the unconscious angels rose like puppets, rushing forward again.

“Do you not know anything else?” Gabriel growled as his fur glowed gold. Suddenly each of the angels were pinned to the ground, held in place by golden swords of light.

Frowning, Astaroth stepped off the wheel, landing lightly on the floor. Raising her arm, the wheel spun forcefully, but the bodies around them did not move.

“You’re a loathsome woman.” Gabriel spat, raising his hand as a golden sword of light appeared. He leapt forward, slashing with the sword.

Astaroth jumped behind her Throne and threw her hands up as a green glow encased it, throwing up a barrier. Gabriel gripped the sword with both hands, applying more pressure. “You should have remained in Hell, you wench.”

‘Damnit, Astaroth! Respond to me!’

There was the sound of splintering and Astaroth dropped to one knee, gritting her teeth. She looked up and saw that the sword had breached the the protective layer and was now cutting into the wood of the Throne. She curled up her hand into a fist and slammed it into the ground, causing the Throne to turn, knocking his sword back.

“You can’t win.” Gabriel charged forward again but jumped back as a burst of yellow flame attacked where he stood moments before.

“Asmodeus!” Astaroth stood up.

Gabriel paused, narrowing his eyes as he watched as the flame grew and from it stepped a man with golden eyes, long golden hair, and six-wings, gold in colour. A Seraph! “How did you destroy my barrier?”

Asmodeus gave a small smile, simply pointing at the ceiling. Astaroth looked up and for the first time, noticed that a clear silver barrier encased half of the library, though at the top it appears a hole was shattered into it. A frown passed her face, she had been too absorbed in the fight to even notice that a barrier had been cast. Glancing up at her older brother, she saw that his eyes were burning and at the tips of each of his wings were balls of yellow flame.

Taking a step forward, the smile on Asmodeus’ face increased, “Now, I believe you said something to my dear sister about not being able to win?” He held out his hand and a yellow flame appeared in his palm, growing bigger and bigger.

Gabriel took another step back. He couldn’t win against a Seraph, he knew that. What should he do? Should he call for help? Notify the Empyrean? His thoughts came to a halt as the large ball of flame was thrown at him. He held up his sword, bracing it with his opposite hand and threw up another barrier.

He knew it was pointless. A Cherub could never hope to defend against the flame of a Seraph. Their fire was all burning, all consuming and the strongest in Heaven. This is why the Seraph stood at the pinnacle of the strongest in Heaven, and why The All Mighty Creator had to create the Empyrean - to defend against the Fallen Seraph.

It was hot. Insanely hot. The fur on his arms and palms sizzled under the heat, causing the skin underneath to blister. He poured all of his Essence into his barrier, knowing that it was futile but regardless, he would not go down without a fight. There was a loud whoosh and he looked up as books and shelves around him went up in flames. He could feel the fire pushing past his barrier and smelt burning fabric, even his robe had became singed.

“I won’t be defeated!” Letting out a warcry, he took a step forward, pushing the ball of flame back when suddenly it disappeared, causing him to topple forward, landing face first into the ground. He quickly got up and looked around.

There was silence.

The flame was gone.

The Seraph and the Throne were also gone.

Several angels started moaning as they came to, holding their heads, throat and bodies in pain.

Gabriel gritted his teeth and punched the ground in frustration.

They were gone.

And he had lost.

Continue to Chapter 14

#Lucifer and Thomas #LuciferandThomas #Adventures with Lucifer and a Boy Named Thomas #Lucifer Fiction #Asmodeus #Astaroth #Leviathan #Lucifer #Fiction #Writers of Tumblr #Writeblr

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thegarrisonpublichouse · 7 years ago

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Business Comes First - Chapter 5

A Peaky Blinders fanfiction set around the end of season three.

Chapter 1 - A Woman who Drinks // Chapter 2 - Tea for my Lady // Chapter 3 - Ricocheting Bullets // Chapter 4 - Demons // Chapter 5 - A Country House // Chapter 6 - Numbing the Pain

MY MASTERLIST

Summary: Alice is a smart and savvy business woman in a male dominated world. She uses her wit and power to get what she wants but she has burdens from her past that could hinder a business transaction in Small Heath.

Word Count: 2700+ words

Author’s note: The next instalment of Alice’s story. I’m so excited to share this one with you, on my recent travels I came across a beautiful 16th century house, and as I was walking around I just kept thinking THIS IS ALICE’S HOUSE. All photos used are my own, and please do excuse any inaccuracies (fire alarms, plug sockets, etc.) in the photos, obviously they wouldn’t be there.

As always, feedback is much appreciated, and do let me know if you wish to be tagged in future instalments. As this is a side blog, all replies will come from @bookish-fox

Tagged accounts: @mariamermaid @little-miss-mischief1 @liiv0urlifee @peakyhoegh @chickens-are-life @birmingum @ishoutmarcoandyoushout @frangipane99-hrtbreak3r @megatqistina (I’ve added people to the list based on feedback I’ve received, let me know if you want to be removed)

Chapter 5 - A Country House

After your late night visit from Tommy, you slept in a fitful manner, closing your eyes for what seemed like a few seconds, for it to have actually have been an hour or two. Each time you woke with a start, breathing heavily. When the sun began to seep through the plush curtains of the hotel window, you could do nothing but sigh of relief: you had made it through another night, and soon you would be at home.

Tommy knocked on your door at around nine o’clock, carrying with him two plates of scrambled eggs and toast for your breakfast. You had smiled and graciously taken the plate from him, the two of you eating your breakfasts alone in your respective rooms in silence.

At around ten, Tommy knocked on your door again, signalling that it was time for you to leave.

An hour of your journey had passed, and you were gazing out of the car window at the rolling hills and distant smog. Tommy glanced to you and smiled.

“Umm,” He coughed, “Do you want to talk about last night or?”

“No, I don’t” you quickly interject. As much as you felt that perhaps talking to someone about your night traumas was probably a good way of gaining your catharsis, you didn’t feel like that person should be Thomas Shelby, your business partner and who your livelihood depended on.

“Okay,” he said slowly, surprised at your sudden outburst.

Silence then ensued, except from you giving him directions as you got closer to your home.

“Next left here, Tommy,” you point towards the gateway to your family home’s driveway.

Fucking hell Tommy thought to himself as he turned the car onto the driveway. Evidently, the driveway was long, and the trees that lined the road had curved like a dome, creating a tunnel of green and foliage.

As the car trundled down the driveway, a group of men gathered under a tree caught your attention. That’s not normal. You wave your hand to get Tommy to slow. Briefly, you made eye contact with one of the men and you recognised his face, but you couldn’t name him or picture where you had met. The man looked at you dead in the eyes, and a toothy, yet sinister grin splayed across his face. He knows who I am, who the fuck is he? Tommy continued to drive past the men, leaving their eyes burning holes into the back of your skull as you turn back to face the way you were travelling.

“Alright?” Tommy asks.

“Hmm,” you mutter with a pensive expression. Something was not right about the way those men were gathered on your driveway- it was as if they were waiting for you. They had instantly recognised you, and yet, you didn’t know who they were, unless it was…

Your thoughts trail off as Tommy pulls up to the front of your house, turning the car round a stone statue fountain that acted as a small round-about in the centre of the driveway. Tommy leant out the window to admire Addison Manor, your family home, its stone cobbles and large windows framed by the picturesque blue sky and flowers that wrapped themselves around the door. You smiled, immediately feeling at home.

You were proud of your home and your family history. Your family were well known in the area: a family with noble lines coursing through their veins, but reduced to lowly farmers through the epic debaucheries and mistakes of your forefathers. It was your father, and his before him, who slowly clawed back your estate, manor and land, created the business and passed it on to you and your siblings, allowing it to flourish and prosper further.

Margaret, the housekeeper, burst out of the front door, her apron flapping in the summer breeze as she ran out to meet you. You had barely climbed out of the car when she pulled you into a tight embrace.

“It’s so lovely to have you home, Alice!” She said after she had released you from your hug, “we’ve all missed you terribly! Lou and the children especially!”

“I’ve missed you too Marg,” you smiled at the older woman. Truly you had missed her: Margaret had acted as almost a surrogate mother for you and your siblings after the sudden death of your mother when you were children. “Where is Lou?”

“She’s just coming,” Margaret leant in to whisper into your ear, “there was - business - that needed to be attended to.” Margaret didn’t like the line of work your family partook in. Although around ninety percent of it was legal: training, breeding and selling racehorses, you didn’t reach national notoriety through legal business alone. The way Margaret said the word “business” came out as if she spat it, needing to get it out of her mouth and mind as soon as possible- as if it was dirty or poisonous.

While you spoke with your housekeeper, Tommy had taken the bags out of the car and was now standing back, admiring the house with one hand on his hip and one shielding his eyes from the sun. Just by looking at the house, he began to understand how you acted and your mannerisms much more; you definitely had influence, wealth, power, and most importantly, respect.

A tiny woman burst out of the front door, wrapping you in the tightest embrace humanly possibly. Lou’s hair was pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head, wisps of blonde flying in the wind as she ran towards you. You hugged her back with equal strength, burying yourself in the smell of her: light, floral perfume combined with the mud and soap that came with having many children.

“Thank God you’re home,” Lou whispered into your hair, “there is much we need to attend to.”

“Who were those men at the gates Lou?” you whisper into her ear, still wrapped in your tight embrace.

“There is much we need to attend to.” She reiterated releasing you from your embrace. Lou then turned to face Tommy, “ahh! Mr Shelby! Welcome to our home.”

Tommy was shown to the guest wing by Margaret leaving you and Lou alone to speak frankly with each other. You walked through the corridors of the house until you reached your wing, sighing slightly at the welcome familiarity of the smell and the texture of the heavy oak door as you pushed it open into your office. The room was exactly how you had left it a few weeks previously- walls adorned with bookshelves, large dark wooden desk in front of the massive window facing the front lawn and gardens. You immediately go to sit in your chair, leaning back in it and running your hands along the armrests. Lou sat down in the chair opposite you.

“Those men?” you ask quickly, raising an eyebrow as Lou gave a sigh. You knew the answer wasn’t a good one.

“Matthew is out of prison.” Lou said slowly, the name causing floods of memories and sensations to explode into your mind. Matthew, the first man you had ever loved, and the first man to ever betray you.

“How?” You practically shout out in frustration. Matthew still had several years to go locked up in his cell.

“He got a new lawyer,” Lou explains calmly, “I think those men where waiting for you to return.”

“Fuck!” you yell. That man had nearly destroyed you and your business. You were together for many years, ever since you were sixteen, but as your family business grew, so did your power. Matthew never liked how it was him relying on your money, he believed it should be the other way around. On many occasions, he had attempted to stifle your power within your own line of work; hiding paperwork, ‘accidentally’ losing betting slips, taking your money from your purse. All of these things had seemed trivial to you, and you understood that your situation as a couple was unusual, but he always took things too far.

Your horses were doing well at the races, and your family name was well sought after by leading jockeys, nobility and royalty alike. You were the queen of the races, but Matthew wasn’t the king. One year at the Epsom Derby, Matthew had taken matters into his own hands, purposely injuring the horses that were from your stud. You had caught him, in the stables, blade in hand. None of your horses won the race that day, and you suffered as a consequence. You took him to the police and he was charged with fixing the races, and you hadn’t seen him since.

The memories of your fraught, but passionate relationship proved overwhelming, and you had to lean back in your seat, exhaling sharply. Lou stood and rested a hand on your forearm, comforting you.

“Al?” she asked tentatively, “he needs to be stopped. You need to stop him from hurting us again.”

“I know,” you sigh, shutting your eyes.

Tommy followed the housekeeper down several long corridors lined with portraits and busts of your predecessors, the plush carpet underfoot feeling spongy and soft under his boots. He had never felt so out of place, but yet comfortable at the same time. He walked past an ajar door and stopped, hearing children’s laughs and squeals coming from within. Carefully, he poked the door open, peering inside. Six children were playing inside with an older woman who he assumed to be their nanny. His eyes were drawn to a little boy sat atop a rocking horse. The boy was the same age as little Charlie back home in Birmingham. Tommy felt a pang in his heart. Family was everything. He missed Charlie already.

“Mr Shelby?” he heard the housekeeper’s voice.

“Sorry,” he muttered following her.

“They’re Lou’s children,” the housekeeper said quietly, “sad really, their father just left a couple months ago. Lou thinks he met someone else. Bloody coward I say.” Margaret continued to chatter as they walked on but Tommy was barely listening. He understood the suffering of your family- despite the differences between your two families, you still struggled in the same ways.

Tommy was shown into his room and he settled in quickly, kicking his shoes off. He walked towards the window to admire the view: the fields stretched for as far as he could see, various livestock grazing and crops growing in orderly lines. He had always considered Arrow House to be in the country, but the black smog of industry in Birmingham was always in view. Here, no black was to be seen, only blues and greens.

Lou had left your office quickly, realising how her news would cause you great stress. If Matthew was out of prison, there was no doubt that he would try and get to you. The men on the driveway were waiting for your return to Devon to inform their boss. You lean back and groan: what you had planned to be a relaxing and successful trip home was no longer possible. You grab the telephone off its hanger, and dial Henry’s number. After a few rings, he picked up.

“Did you know?” You ask quickly.

“Did I know what?” He replied, equally as quickly.

“Matthew’s out.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Fuck” you sigh.

“Deal with it, Alice.” He said quietly before hanging up the phone. You groan again, replacing the phone. As irritated as you were, the situation needed to be dealt with and a horse needed to be sold to the Shelbys: there was work to do.

You rise out of your chair and walk to the door of the room, calling for Margaret. The older woman rushes along the corridor to meet your calls.

“Can you ask Mr Shelby to meet me in the dining room please, Margaret?” you ask sweetly. She nods before turning and rushing back down the corridor in which she had came. “Oh! And Lou too please?” You call after her. You turn and walk back into your office, grabbing a large folder off one of the bookshelves. Flicking through the pages of horses you smile, Tommy simply won’t be able to refuse these.

Tommy followed a maid into the dining room of Addison Manor. As he walked through the door he struggled to contain his awe. The room was basked in sunlight due to the large windows that were dotted around the perimeter. The light was accentuated by the pale blue paintwork, with white and gold ornate trims. He looked up to the ceiling, which was painted the same blue, but had white carvings and engravings across the entire area. The room was beautiful. In the middle of the room was a long table, with places set out for nearly thirty people. Crisp and clear glasses and shining silverware shimmered in the sunlight. You sat at the head of the table, diamond earrings and necklace creating a mirage of light on the walls and ceilings. Lou sat next to you on your right, her blonde hair glowing like liquid gold as the sun’s rays hit it. Tommy gulped, sheer beauty like this simply doesn’t exist in Birmingham. The way your hands were poised at the table, and how Lou gazed deep into his eyes made the whole scene look like the Renaissance painting.

“Ladies,” he coughed, pulling up the chair to your right, making a conscious effort not to break the peaceful equilibrium of the room. You and Lou smile at him.

“So Tommy,” you begin, laying the folder out in front of him. “You have come here in order to negotiate a deal with Goodfellows Ltd.” He nodded earnestly at you, you noticed that his eyes were the same colour as the walls and ceiling. Focus Alice. “The terms of this deal are as follows: we, Goodfellows Ltd., would become a major sponsor of the Cheltenham Races. In return, you will receive a race horse of your choice.”

Lou opened the folder, revealing the photographs of the elegant and majestic horses you had to offer. “In this folder, we have compiled a list of what we believe to be our most promising colts and fillies. You are welcome to choose any from this folder.” She spoke smoothly. Tommy looked up at her, and then to you. They’ve done this before, they know what they’re doing. Tommy raised an eyebrow at you, and you smiled to him.

“We suggest that you browse through the folder tonight, then tomorrow we shall take you out to the stud and you can see the horses in action.” You say, causing Tommy to nod slowly.

Suddenly the doors burst open and a host of three children, aged between seven and ten rush into the room and bustle around Lou. Lou groans. You smile, pulling the young girl, Rosie, onto your lap and into a hug. The oldest boy, George, tugs at Lou’s arm, trying to get her attention while the middle child, a boy named Joe pulled at her other arm.

“Excuse me, Mr Shelby.” Lou sighs. Tommy chuckled, then leant back in his chair, the pang of missing his own child erupting into his heart. “What is it, George?”

“Can we walk into town? We haven’t been able to in AGES!” George whined, placing particular emphasis on the ‘ages’.

“Absolutely not.” Lou affirmed, widening her eyes as George began to cry. Tommy raised an eyebrow, unsure if this was normal behaviour or not. The children’s nanny ran into the room, red faced and panting.

“I’m so sorry!” she cried grabbing the children by the arms and dragging them out of the room.

Lou wiped her eyes with her hands and groaned. Tommy looked between her and you, trying to suss out the situation.

“I can’t let them out of the house, not with those men lurking on our very driveway.” Lou said, reassuming her normal stoic attitude and sitting up straight. It all of a sudden clicked in Tommy’s mind- this family were under as much threat as his, they were a family under pressure. Lou grabbed your hand, a pleading expression on her face.

“I’ll deal with it. Tonight.” You affirm.

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kamana-mishra · 2 years ago

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Alice Blue Review: Brokerage Charges, Margin, Trading & Demat Account

Get the unbiased review of Alice Blue and check its trading app, Demat account opening charges, brokerage, margin, plans, features, investment option, ratings & review.

#Alice Blue brokerage #Alice Blue broker review

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jrubalcaba · 7 years ago

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Can’t Help Falling In Love - Ch. 18

Can't Help Falling In Love Chapter 18 - A Steve x OFC fanfiction

author: jrubalcaba

featuring: OFC Evelyn “Evie” Rogers x Steve Rogers

word count: 4197 words

rating: PG

warnings: Cussing, fluff galore!

A/N: Credit to @suz-123 for the character of Alice. Thanks to @celeb-fess for being my beta!

Here is it folks, Steve and Evie’s wedding!

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I sighed. I was in the middle of one of the best dreams ever, and now I had to get up. I opened my eyes and grabbed my phone to turn off the alarm and checked the time. I sat up in shock, my heart racing and my hands suddenly clammy. It was 7 a.m., and in eight hours, I would be walking down the aisle and becoming Mrs. Steve Rogers. There was a knock on my door and Natasha, Alice, Wanda, Pepper and Maria all came in, holding champagne glasses.

“Good morning Mrs. Rogers! Here’s a mimosa to start your wedding day off on the right foot!” Alice cried cheerfully, handing me the glass she was holding with a wink. My mouth drier than the Sahara, I gulped it down quickly. I looked up at my bridal party, and their smiles vanished.

“You okay Evie?” Alice asked, sitting down next to me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” After a moment of silence from me, a look of understanding crossed her face. “It just now hit you didn’t it?” She hugged me tight, rubbing circles on my back. “Not having second thoughts are you?”

I blinked in surprise before shaking my head at her.

“No. God no. I just can’t believe it’s finally here. I’m getting married today.” They all let out the breath they were holding. “Gee thanks,” I muttered. Alice clapped my shoulder before standing up and walking to the closet.

“Alrighty then. Let’s get you in the shower so we can start on your hair and makeup,” she began, handing out the personalized robes we had to get ready in. “Once she’s out, I need the rest of you to take turns getting in and out as well.” She turned back to me. “Get something to eat after you’re out of the shower before getting your hair and makeup done. I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped when I tried to protest about not being hungry. “I’m not having you faint on your wedding day because you didn’t eat. You girls need to be eating while she’s in the shower,” she barked at the girls. “Don’t take forever doing either one either. I’m trying to time it right to where we go in an assembly line with Evie first and me last. So, let’s move it people!”

Now I’m glad I put her in charge.

I jumped in the shower and got done in record time. I passed Nat on the way out as I ran to grab food. The door rang as Wanda ran to answer it. Laura, Clint’s wife, had graciously offered her amazing photography skills for the day, so she was here to begin taking pictures of us getting ready. Once I was done eating, I brushed my teeth and went straight to start getting my hair done.

Around 1 p.m. there was another knock on the door. By this time, my hair and makeup were done and I was waiting for the girls to finish with theirs before we grabbed a quick bite and then start getting into our dresses. Alice ran to see who was at the door, making sure I was hidden from view in case the visitor was Steve. She cracked it open at first before opening it wide so Bruce could come in. He was still in street clothes, but at least he had combed his hair. I embraced him, both of us shaking slightly.

“You look comfy. Whatcha got there?” I asked, pointing to the box in his hand. He chuckled before holding it out to me.

“I figured you may not have your ‘something old’, since Steve doesn’t count, so here.” I opened the box and gasped. Inside was an absolutely beautiful antique silver ring with sapphires.

I’d bet all of the money in my bank account that it was older than Steve and Bucky combined. “It’s been in my family for generations. Seeing as I now have a kid to hand it down to, it’s yours.” He pulled it from the box and placed it in my hand. “I think Steve should be the one putting rings on you today.” I smiled as I placed the ring on my right hand, a tear sliding down his cheek. “It suits you.”

I threw my arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly.

“Thank you, Dad. This means so much to me,” I sniffled, a few tears cascading down my face as well. “It can be my ‘something blue’ too.” He hugged me back and we stood there awhile, a dad and his daughter in their own bubble while the world continued on around them.

“Alright alright, enough tears. No ruining our masterpiece,” Alice butted in, pulling us apart. “We will see you when we line up. See you in a bit, Brucey,” she dismissed, pushing him toward the door. He waved goodbye before shutting the door behind him.

Finally, one hour until go time, we were able to get into our dresses. All of the girls went first, making sure they were all good to go before they came to help me into mine. Thankfully, Alice kept me on a tight leash in regards to food, so I hadn’t gained any weight and my dress still fit like a dream. Once all of my buttons were buttoned, I put my shoes on before walking to the mirror in the bedroom. I may have been teary-eyed before, but now I was in serious danger of ruining my makeup. I looked and felt like a princess. I turned to look at the girls and they were slowly starting to cry as well.

“Evie, you look incredible. Steve is the luckiest man alive,” Wanda complimented. Laura motioned for us to stand together and began snapping more pictures.

“Wow. Just wow,” a voice suddenly exclaimed. We all turned and saw Bucky and Bruce standing behind us, their jaws almost to the floor. They both looked stunning in their suits. Bruce approached me, pulling me into his arms in the most tender fashion as if I was made entirely out of glass.

“Evie you look magnificent. You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” he gushed as he let go of me. I smiled, not trusting myself to keep from crying. Bucky had finally recovered enough to approach me, engulfing me in a tight hug that threatened to force all the air from my lungs. He began trembling and as I pulled back to see what was wrong, I saw that he was crying.

“Evie, you are absolutely breathtaking,” he sobbed, wiping his face with the tissue Nat quietly handed him. “All I’ve ever wanted for Steve was for him to be happy and to have the family he’s always wanted, and now, seeing you like this, ready to walk down the aisle and become his wife, it’s a dream come true.” He hugged me again for a brief moment before letting go. “Thank you for not giving up on him.” I chuckled as I thought about how things could have gone.

“Thank you, Bucky, for not letting him give up on me either,” I thanked him in return. “You two look amazing. If you look this good, I can only imagine how handsome Steve must look.” I was suddenly very eager to get to the church. Bucky wasn’t listening anymore, as he only had eyes for Alice.

“Alice, you look absolutely exquisite,” he purred, cradling her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. They broke apart and she blushed at Bucky’s actions.

“Yes, she’s positively glowing with beauty. Clearly, today's all about her, " I muttered quietly, sending her a wink. They both gave me a warning look, to which I pantomimed zipping my mouth and throwing away the key. “So, how’s Steve?” I asked to gloss over the awkward silence. Bucky turned to me with a sly grin.

“He’s fine. Incredibly anxious to get to the church and see you. I’ve never seen him this excited over a dame since...well, he’s pretty excited,” he finished quickly, a worried look crossing his face. I snorted, knowing exactly who he was talking about.

“Well, I’m itching to see him too. I’ve been waiting for this day for years, and now that it’s finally here, I can’t wait to get this show on the road.” My ringtone for Steve, Alexander Jean’s ‘Roses and Violets’, began to play. I grabbed it before Alice had a chance to and pressed accept while I smirked triumphantly. “Hey Steve,” I greeted nervously.

“Hey Evie,” he answered breathlessly. “Just wanted to see how you were doing and to let you know that I love you and that I can’t wait to see you.” I grinned.

“I love you too, and I can’t wait to see you either.” I heard him chuckle softly.

“Well, it’s a good thing that you love me back. That’s the whole point of today,” he pointed out. I laughed.

“That’s true. All joking aside though, you okay?” I asked in all seriousness. I heard him take a few deep breaths to steady himself before he answered.

“Yeah, I’m okay. You know me, the epitome of Calm and Collected.” I smiled at the thought of Steve standing in his suit, looking all stoic, but I could hear it in his voice that he was nervous at what was about to come.

“Oh, of course,” I answered him. “I guess I better let you go so we can get this show on the road.” I heard a faint chuckle before he agreed.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be seeing you soon then. Love you, Evie,” he replied. I smiled to myself.

“Love you too, Steve.” We hung up and I handed my phone to Alice, who took it and packed it away in my suitcase. Steve and I were leaving right after the reception, so we had our bags packed and ready to go. Bruce and Bucky had left while I was on the phone, so the only thing left to do was for us to get in the limousine and head to the church.

“Alrighty ladies, it’s showtime. Let’s head downstairs and head on over. We’ve got a wedding to be in,” Alice called. We all left, getting in the elevator and descending. We got stopped a few times by other tenants on our way down, and the surprised looks on their faces were worth it. I’m sure we were a sight to see; me in my dress and the girls and Laura in their dresses. I apologized every time we were stopped until finally, we made it to the lobby. We ran for the limo, trying to avoid any paparazzi that might have been camped out. We made it without being photographed and then we were headed to the church.

“Wow. That church still amazes me every time I see it,” Wanda mused out loud as we pulled up to the side entrance and got out. The girls had me stay in the limo so they could make sure Steve wasn’t around. We didn’t want to chance us seeing each other before the ceremony. Alice shot me a thumbs up, signaling that I could safely walk inside.

“Dr. Banner! Dr. Banner!” I heard someone call. I turned and was met with a flash of light. Once my vision had cleared, I saw a paparazzo walking away. I ran up to him, shoulder checking him so his camera fell to the ground and shattered. “What the hell?” he cried as he turned to me. I grabbed him by his lapel and got in his face.

“You ever take a picture of me without my permission again, and I will bury you so deep no one will be able to find the body. Nod if you understand.” Today was not the day to piss me off. The creep’s eyes widened with fear before he nodded. I released him and he ran away, leaving his camera on the sidewalk. I smirked before walking back to the door and going inside.

“What took so long?” Alice huffed. I shrugged.

“Some jerk paparazzo snuck a picture of me and I had a heart to heart with him. Don’t worry, the picture was erased,” I assured her when her face paled. She stalked off to find Tony I guess, while I looked around for my bouquet.

“Here y’go Evie,” Nat said as she walked up and handed it to me. I brought it to my nose and inhaled the sweet scent as I closed my eyes. When I opened them, another wave of terror ran through me, causing me to freeze in place. “Evie, you okay?” Nat inquired, placing a hand on my arm. “Alice, she’s freaking out again,” she called over her shoulder as the girls all walked over to console me.

“E, you still with us?” Alice asked quietly, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me gently. I squeezed my eyes shut before opening them and looking her in the face.

“Alice, I don’t think I can do this. I can’t stand being the center of attention. I don’t know if I can...” I gasped, falling to my knees and wrapping my arms around myself. I began breathing hard as one of the girls walked away, only to return with one of the groomsmen.

“Hey ladies, can ya give us a few minutes? I gotta talk with Evie,” I heard Bucky say before everyone left and he knelt down in front of me. His metal hand grabbed my chin and lifted my head up so he could see me. “What’s going on? You don’t want to do this anymore?” I looked up at him, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

“Buck, I’m terrified. I don’t do crowds or being in the spotlight like the rest of you. I can’t do this. I can’t,” I began to mumble. He grabbed my hands and squeezed.

“Evie, you can do this. Yes, you can,” he stressed when I made to argue. “Look, just….” he paused, looking around for something to help me. “Just pretend that it’s the rehearsal, no, a dress rehearsal.” I looked up at him a bit more hopeful. “Yeah. Just pretend that we’re having a dress rehearsal and that everyone else in the audience is fake.” My breathing was beginning to even out and I wasn’t feeling so scared. “There. See? And don’t even look anywhere other than at Steve. He’s the reason you’re here, remember? He’s waiting for you and you alone. That should be enough to get you to the end of the aisle, right?” I looked up at him and smiled.

“Yes. Yes, it is. I feel better. Thanks, Bucky,” I thanked him. He helped me stand back up and hugged me tightly.

“That’s my girl. Now, let’s get lined up and go, yeah?” he asked as he released me. I nodded before he went to get Bruce.

“You alright?” Bruce asked as he held his arm out for me. I took it as I nodded. “Good. Now, when the swell of music starts, we count to five and then start walking. That’s what Alice told me. She’s getting everyone else lined up and ready.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “We were waiting for you to feel better, so now we’re running just a bit late.” I glared at him.

“I’m the bride, dammit. The wedding doesn’t start until I walk in, so tough shit,” I snarled ever so eloquently. He quirked an eyebrow before we both started laughing. I could hear the melody of Christina Perri’s ‘A Thousand Years’ playing as the rest of the bridal party began to walk through the open doors. Finally, the lyrics paused and the music swelled. Bruce and I looked at each other and counted to five. “Dad, please don’t let me fall or trip,” I whispered as we began to walk through the doors. I looked up and I could see everyone turning to look at me and I began to freeze again before I recalled Bucky’s words to me a few minutes ago. I looked up the aisle and there he was.

Steve looked stunning in his navy blue suit. I noticed he had shaved his beard off, and as much as I love it on him (and feeling it on my thighs), seeing him clean shaven really tied his whole look together. His face broke into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen when he saw me, and suddenly, I couldn’t get to the altar fast enough. After what seemed to be an eternity, Bruce and I reached the pastor and stopped. I saw Steve wipe his eyes out of the corner of my eye.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, the joining of two hearts and to give recognition to the worth and beauty of love, and to add our best wishes to the words which shall unite this couple in holy matrimony,” Father Michael began. I snuck a glance at Steve, who was beaming at me. He winked at me, and I had to bite back a giggle. Father Michael looked at Bruce and I and smiled. “Who gives this woman today to be married?” he asked.

“I do, Father,” Bruce answered.

“Hey, that’s my line,” I whispered, causing him, Alice, Steve and Bucky to chuckle. Bruce turned to me, pulling me in for a hug and kissed my cheek before turning to Steve and shaking his hand. He then placed my hand in Steve’s, signaling that his duty, giving me away on my wedding day, was fulfilled. He sat down in the front row as I stepped up next to Steve.

“Should there be anyone who has cause why this couple should not be united in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Father Michael asked. Steve and I looked over our shoulders at the audience, staring everyone down and daring them to object. When no one spoke, we both looked back at the pastor with smug smiles on our faces. He returned our grins and proceeded with the ceremony.

“Today we have come together to witness the joining of these two lives. For them, out of the routine of ordinary life, the extraordinary has happened. They met each other, fell in love and are finalizing it with their wedding. A good marriage must be created. It is never being too old to hold hands. It is remembering to say I love you every day and it is not just marrying the right person, it’s being the right partner.” I bowed my head, trying my best not to laugh out loud at Steve’s chuckle.

“Trust me, Father, age isn’t an issue for us,” he muttered under his breath. I choked out a laugh before I was able to contain myself. Father Michael gave us a disapproving look before he continued on.

“I need you both to face each other, and Steven, I need you to take her hands and repeat after me: I, Steven, take thee, Evelyn,”

Steve took a deep breath before repeating. “I Steven, take thee, Evelyn,”

“to be my lawfully wedded wife, my partner in life and my one true love.”

“To be my lawfully wedded wife, my partner in life, and my one true love.”

“To have and to hold, from this day forward.”

“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health,”

“To love, honor and to cherish,”

“As long as we both shall live, until death do us part,”

“As long as we both shall live, until death do us part.”

I grinned at him as Father Michael turned to me.

“Evelyn, I need to you take his hands and repeat after me: I Evelyn, take thee, Steven,”

I smiled as I repeated. “I Evelyn, take thee, Steven,”

“to be my lawfully wedded husband, my partner in life and my one true love.”

“To be my lawfully wedded husband, my partner in life, and my one true love.”

“To have and to hold, from this day forward.”

“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health,”

“To love, honor and to cherish,”

“As long as we both shall live, until death do us part,”

“As long as we both shall live, until death do us part.” Steve squeezed my hands as Father Michael went on.

“Steven, do you take Evelyn to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?” he asked. Steve looked at me before answering.

“I do,” his voice rang out, proud and clear.

“Evelyn, do you take Steven to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him?” he then asked me. I looked into Steve’s beautiful blue eyes and answered.

“I do.” Father Michael smiled as he nodded his head at us.

“Now, for the exchanging of the rings. Wedding rings are an unbroken circle of love, signifying to all the union of this couple in marriage." He paused to look at Steve. “Do you have her ring?” Steve nodded before turning to Bucky. He reached into his pocket but made an ‘Uh oh’ face before reaching into his other pocket.

“Uh, Houston we have a problem. It’s not in my pocket,” he stammered. I leaned over to look at him.

“James Barnes, so help me, if you don’t find that ring,” I threatened. He reached into his inner pocket and finally located it.

“Got it. Here ya go, Stevie,” he replied, placing my ring in Steve’s hand. The audience chuckled as Steve faced me.

“Steven, as you place the ring on her left ring finger, repeat after me: Evelyn, this ring is my sacred gift, with my promise that I will always love you, cherish you and honor you all the days of my life. And with this ring, I thee wed.”

Steve grabbed my left hand in his, and slid my ring onto my finger with his right hand, repeating the pastor’s words.

“Evelyn, this ring is my sacred gift, with my promise that I will always love you, cherish you and honor you all the days of my life. And with this ring, I thee wed.” My wedding ring, gold with diamonds set in the band, was finally at home, where it would stay until the day I die.

Father Michael turned to me next.

“Do you have his ring?” he asked cautiously. I slowly turned to Alice, who had Steve’s ring ready for me. She smirked at Bucky, who in turn made a face at her. I nodded at Father Michael to proceed.

“Evelyn, as you place the ring on his left ring finger, repeat after me: Steven, this ring is my sacred gift, with my promise that I will always love you, cherish you and honor you all the days of my life. And with this ring, I thee wed.”

I grabbed Steve’s left hand with mine as I slowly slid his solid gold wedding band onto his finger.

“Steven, this ring is my sacred gift, with my promise that I will always love you, cherish you and honor you all the days of my life. And with this ring, I thee wed.” I had a little difficulty when I got to his second knuckle, where the ring caught for a moment before I forced it the rest of the way to its final resting spot. Steve and I locked eyes for a moment as the reality of what just happened hit us.

“By the power vested in me, and the great state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Steven, you may kiss your bride,” Father Michael announced.

“Finally,” Steve exclaimed as he pulled me into his arms and dipped me, bringing his lips to mine as I threw mine around his neck.

After a few moments, perhaps a little too long for church, Father Michael cleared his throat. I felt Steve smile against my lips as he stood back up, setting me right. We held hands as we looked at the pastor with a sheepish look on our faces.

“Please turn to the audience,” he instructed and as we turned he announced out loud “I present to you our happy couple, Captain and Mrs. Rogers.” Everyone burst into applause as we both took a quick bow, before linking arms and walking back down the aisle. Once we were through the doors, we stood on either side as we were joined by our wedding party, forming a receiving line. We met with all of the guests as they filed out, before joining back up and making a beeline for the limousine that would take us to the reception hall.

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#jrubalcaba #cant help falling in love #steve rogers #evie rogers

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topsharedelars · 2 years ago

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entering-the-wild · 3 years ago

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Someone once told me that for as dumb as I can be, I’m pretty good with words

A slow day at a job I feel indifferent about seems like as good a time as any. I think it was my first year of college, 6/7 years ago now that I was last really active here. A lot of the accounts I use to follow pretty religiously are either inactive, changed their name, or just gone because of Tumblr changing its guidelines a while back. It’s the same in name but it‘s different underneath, something I feel similar too.

Shawn

I’ve lost and gained a lot of things over the years. I’ve changed and the best way I can think to put it, is that there’s been about 4 different versions of me. I would have described me 7 years ago as a stupid kid who didn’t know how to handle his emotions for the sake of others. He day-dreamed about the future and it scared him. Now I’d call myself a stupid adult that can’t handle his emotions for the sake of me. I day-dream about the present and it scares me.

Not just one, but many

I think the biggest loss I’ve had over time was the loss of my innocence and the belief that me and my friends were invincible. 4 years (almost) ago when the cancer hit Jayce out of the blue, I think that was the biggest thing that changed me. That phone call of him getting rushed to a big hospital broke a lot of the arrogance I’d ever had built up in myself. I’d lost a lot of things at that point. I’d gained and lost love, lost the idea of teaching, lost the love I had for being outside in the cold, lost playing ultimate all the time, lost being next to the family I’d had built because of ultimate, and then I lost the rock I’d had for 13 years and was alone in Ohio. It’s an eye-opening moment when cancer hits, especially someone just turned 21. Working 109 hours a week for a whole month also puts things in perspective. He fought harder than anyone I’ve ever seen fight anything, until he couldn’t anymore. I lost a lot of innocence that night at the hospital. By some for of grace, the same weekend I was heading back for an ultimate tournament to be with that family, I got a phone call from his family asking to make sure I’d stop in Indy. That day his dad told the chaplain and the doctors that I was his brother and I needed to be there for his last night. I’ll never forget saying my goodbye alone and seeing tears come out of his closed eyes. That was the exact moment I lost a lot. The day after was when I gained a very bad drinking habit. I also started to lose my emotions and that was the big switch from how I use to handle them to now. I started keeping people at arms length and really dove into attacking myself more than anything. I ended up losing the road I’d been on for 5 years and lost some of the things I use to like about myself.

Feeling old feelings and steps toward growth(?)

After Jayce passed I ended up in West by God Virginia and it was a saving grace and an inhibitor. I gained a lot of good friends from work and just being there, but I was living at the bar every might and working a very dangerous job every day. I stumbled back into an old relationship that wasn’t healthy anymore and we stayed in it for a while (we’ll call her Alice, I’m sorry. I’m really truly glad you’re engaged and you’ve found that guy). One day I was at work in charge of 13 people and was coming down from a drunk of the night before and put myself in the most dangerous position I could. Something had to be done so I got down in the hole and put my own line on the hands of an operator’s control (I’m sorry about that one too Michelle). That night I called Jayce’s dad and we had a 3 hour conversation at a Bdubs discussing every emotion we’d felt since Jayce passed. It was an eye-opening night I needed because I hadn’t realized until then that I was subconciously feeling sucidial again. Instead of closing my eyes and hitting the gas pedal in the rain, I was putting myself between machine and rock hard Earth. I left WV soon after. I spent almost a year drunk at home not coping. I went back to WV and cranked it back to 10 but I was surrounded by a family on the road again and felt some kind of okay. I came back home and turned it back down but stayed drunk for almost 2 years.

Admit it

Doesn’t one of those steps programs have acceptance or admitting your problems as a way to acknowledge your problems? If not let’s pretend it is. I’m going to do my best at admitting the flaws I have and what I’ve done, and the positives (because everyone knows I’m awful about pointing out the good things).

I admit that I’m not the best person all the time. I will say that I’ve actively over the years tried to be more helpful to people I know and don’t know. I try and leave a place better than when I found it.

I admit I’ve wronged people and put a lot of emotional baggage on people and I’m sorry. Put it back on me.

I admit I’ve had a drinking problem for 4 years now. I’ down to only drinking in the weekends and not blacking out every time I see a bottle.

I admit I am, have been, and will be again, depressed. I don’t know if I’ll go for therapy because of past issues with it, but I’m scheduling a few new tattoo.

I admit I have been lazy and full of self-pity. I forced myself out of bed and got a winter job that’s forced me into a routine again.

I admit I got fat and didn’t look out for my health. I started back at the gym and I lost 22 pounds in October alone. Feel a little better.

I admit that I’ll continue to have the fault of sticking to my feelings about people and making it harder to change those feelings. I am a flawed human, but I don’t bottle things anymore. I try and be honest and communicate.

I admit that I’m still lost. I’m slowly handling my past better, but I’m still somewhat wondering through life.

I admit I feel alone. I think the emotion that took the hardest hit was just love. I haven’t felt anything like it in a long time. I love my friends and I’d do anything for them, but I miss having someone. It’s been a long time.

I admit this was long and winded and a little jumbled. I rewrote this in my head a bunch over the past couple days because I needed to let some of this out. If you see it, my bad.

I admit that I’m sorry. I am me, and I am growing.

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benwne · 3 years ago

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vmfx · 4 years ago

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FULL MOON SPECIAL.

(Summer.)

This year Spring came and went a little easier than usual. Aside from a stomach-churning break-up that neither my now ex-girlfriend or I wanted to take part of, the Spring revival brought a brand new charge that I haven’t experienced in a long time. Feelings of meeting someone rare and opening up to them for the first time. An opportunity with an art-school-type Korean girl who nicely put me down but ended in an amicable consolation. Taking snapshots with the who’s-who of the Press at the trendiest post-production parties. Extended drives out west with my friend Jewish Mary discussing thoughts, feelings, summer plans, and laughing out loud over getting to know each other as friends.

The mania continued when we all discovered two social-networking sites that year: Myspace and Facebook. Both had opened a wide portal for anyone who used it. Not only did they offer an opportunity for friends and classmates to keep in direct contact with each other, but it also doubled as a dating or hook-up site. When it first opened people would randomly contact each other through a very curious yet open world with plentiful results. This was before the term ‘stalking’ was taken seriously, and when people were more welcome and less discriminating.

One day I was curious and did a search for people who liked Deftones. The first thing that came up was this black-and-white photo of a girl eating a King of Diamonds playing by CouponDropDown" target="_blank">card with both hands and a happy chipper smile. I liked cute girls and I liked playing cards…and then I liked cute girls who liked eating playing cards, so who was I to pass this up? I jokingly messaged her to stop eating the King and cease being disrespectful. A day later, she replies.

Her name was Catherine. We messaged each other sparsely for two months being silly and then it stopped. I don’t know why. I assumed it just ran its course and that was that. I thought nothing of it, moved on and forgot about her.

**********

(Autumn.)

One afternoon in the campus news office I open my account to find a message waiting for me, feeling interested as always. Then I see who sent me that message: it was Catherine. Out of nowhere she decided to pop up and say hello…fifteen months later. What the circumstances were of why there was a fifteen-month silence between us I’ll never know. It did not matter anymore.

At first I could not remember who she was until it hit me, but it felt real good hearing from her again and I was amazed that she remembered me after a long silence. Very rarely in this nature would people do such a gesture these days. She told me she liked talking to me when we did which was why she contacted me again. There was no reason to not seize the opportunity to continue so we picked up where we left off. The rate of communication accelerated and quantified. Our next constant starts by getting to know each other.

What I first learned about Catherine had me very concerned. At the time, she found herself at home feeling lonely with a bottle of vodka nearby accompanied by a supply of painkillers and a pack of blades, extreme for someone I just started talking to. She was slipping and I pushed and persisted for answers because I am a savior to my friends. As she reached out to me, I had to reach out to her. I wanted to put the pieces together because I genuinely felt sorry for her. I was not as successful as first since she heavily guarded herself so I decided to tread very carefully.

Alternately, Catherine and I discussed philosophies and logic; life struggles, situations at hand and other miscellany. I discover that we had a good number of things in common. She listened to the very same music I was into when I was in high-school a decade before. (I preceded her by eight years and her birthday was only ten days after mine. I am a Virgo, she is a Libra.) She was into Nirvana, Alice In Chains, Nine Inch Nails, Stone Temple Pilots, and her number one Elliot Smith, certifying her as an alternative-rock sentry in my eyes. She wrote, did graphic design, and even attended the same university as I. She had creative qualities and I saw lots of potential in her, thus the race to rescue Catherine from her own personal black hole had become more essential, more so when I had week-long periods of not hearing from her.

Catherine should not have to drown herself every weekend in alcohol and loneliness nor let alone consume vicodin and oxycontin, so I felt. She also did not have to punish herself by cutting, either. All this as a result of social neglect and mostly being un-accepted in her high-school years, with her using and drinking as a means of coping now ignited due to meeting some guy at a party who introduced her to a sip of beer. I now gave her an opportunity to come out and be at a safer place, to bring her out and have dinner with me to discuss her situation.

During this time, I was going through a very heavy period of discovering music. Tower Records was going under and were closing its doors for good by the end of the year. One night after work I paid my final visit there and I picked up Public Image Limited, The Buzzcocks, Stereolab, and Jesu. Roy Ayers, Ladytron, Leonard Cohen, Boards Of Canada, and much more. Artists I either meant to try or even discovered out of nowhere. And back at the Press office, someone somehow uploaded a lot of music into one of our office computers ripe for the taking. Direct Control, Regulations, Stereo Total, NON, and MF Doom were playing endlessly while I furiously typed away articles for the next issues of the semester; after which I occasionally took a break for spicy fried rice at the campus’ Asian food quarter. A scent of lime was present, in tandem reminding me of the cold air and starry night skies complimenting that Autumn.

The turn of the New Year arrived when I was at the campus radio station doing a countdown set with several on-air staff. I contacted Catherine when the show was over. We decided the time was right to finally meet up after her Thursday secret meeting. We weighed our options including any given Greek diner for midnight breakfast, but we opt for American instead.

**********

(Full Moon, January.)

Daily errands were done. In the afternoon I went clothes shopping and bought a watch, a black t-shirt with a cassette printed on the front and a grey pocket t-shirt with some gold lettering. The scent of lime now replaced by a strong hue of blue and white static powder. Later that night, I spearheaded a radio station meeting as program director with several other talents about what extra equipment, wires, boards, and knobs to buy for our studios. After two hours of sitting through the meeting taking suggestions and going over schematics I finally conclude the meeting. All I had eaten so far was a Snickers bar but I wasn’t feeling hunger pangs. I was still standing.

I walk out of the building and it was extremely cold. A bright full moon and stars were out with absolutely no clouds or snow in sight. I called Catherine on my white cell-phone to let her know my meeting was over. Her secret meeting concluded as well. Both of us were on the way. We would trade several more phone calls to make sure we would stick to our guns.

I arrive at the American restaurant. It was a crowded Thursday night, the day of the week most students from campus migrate here to unwind and eat. Noisy as usual, lots of people talking, cups and glasses clinking, excitement and loud music fill the air. I sit at the lobby waiting to finally meet Catherine for the first time, wondering what she could really be. I had no idea what to expect or what she really looked like in person.

I was about to find out, and here she is.

I see Catherine walk into the restaurant. When I looked up at her for a moment to verify if it was her or not; everything registered to line up with themselves and I call her out. “Catherine!” I get her attention and she turns to me. We were thrilled to see each other and trade smiles and pleasantries. She was this young thin self, her neck-length Trixie hair, slim purple long-sleeve sweater and black jeans torn at the knees. She sits to my left in the lobby and our conversation starts off with three topics in a matter of five minutes: her secret meeting in Port Jefferson which she refused to divulge, how she drove out to and missed the record store in Ronkonkoma, and what was possibly wrong with her cable box. Five minutes later our maitre d’ escorts us to a window-side booth seated adjacent from eight loud and noisy frat boys who thankfully did not start in with us. After a year and a half, here was the first time we would get to talk to each other, face-to-face.

I order chicken stir-fry. Catherine orders only a diet Coke. “Are you sure?” I ask her, and politely she said she wasn’t hungry. I upped the ante and told her that dinner was on me and she could have anything she wanted, no worries. But she stopped at a diet Coke and said it was OK. I gave in and nicely obliged.

We went forward and re-iterated every conversation we had over the last three months. Catherine was very soft-spoken. So soft spoken that I had to lean toward her to focus on every word she said, and on one occasion I kindly told her to speak just a little louder. My undivided attention was on her when she said every word since she had the loveliest eyes I had ever seen. Big eyes. Lovely eyes. Obvious eyes. Memorable eyes. Cat eyes. Eyes that made her very cute. Eyes that ‘made’ Catherine.

We went more in-depth about the parallels we had. I was still very flattered Catherine was into the very music I was years prior. Had she went to high-school with me she would have been accepted to my circle of friends with no problem. She also mentioned that once she was a Cinema/Cultural Studies major on our campus. However, we had no classes together and the two years that she attended our university we did not once cross paths, but very well could have.

We talked and listened to each other more and more, progressing without one single hitch. No missteps, no awkward looks, no slip-ups, no back-pedaling. It was only Catherine and I sitting across from each other with all the time in the world having a complex yet honest, concerning, intelligent conversation; a type of conversation extremely rare in our disposable, attention-deficit, lowest-common-denominator world. She was that someone different than the rest who was exactly on my level. I was that someone who would give her the concern, understanding, and the attention she was looking for.

Our night, however, was drawing to a close and I wanted to end it on a high note. I asked Catherine if she had gotten a hold of Elliott Smith’s Figure 8, one which she was missing. She was in the midst of explaining herself when I take the CD out of my jacket pocket placed next to me and tossed it on the table right in front of her, a late Christmas present for a friend to bring herself and her spirits up. She was in total amazement. So much it spilt all over the table. She could not believe I would do such a thing for her.

Catherine then offered me anything I wanted. She even waved her money in my face for the CD which I absolutely dead-refused to take. What I wanted in return was to see her again, and soon.

**********

To this day, no one I have ever met in my life gave me a surreal thrill just by being with someone for three hours. I felt amazed that I even met her.

Catherine was without a doubt one of the most original and unique people I’ve met, ever. Hands down. No contest. She had a lot of things about her that no one could copy, because everything about her was hers. From the music she listened to, her philosophy, her good parts, her bad parts, even her looks…it was all hers, as if there was an art to her.

She was real interesting and because of her conversations I tried to reach out and look out for her. She made me want to look forward to meeting her again and in the process got my mind off a lot of things because she was really that special. I bought her that gift just to prove to her that I can help her out and bring her up in any way.

It was that feeling of meeting someone who was more to my liking, whose complexion was young, her personality, looks, and features unique and rarely seen, the feeling of assurance because you finally had the answers to those swirling questions. In front of me was someone I believed was truly special despite her severe misgivings and flaws. Despite her errors, I only thought about the good things, colors, and feelings about her.

Every now and then I go back and listen to everything from that era. All those sounds are a watermark of that time when I first met Catherine and conjure up everything else that occurred at the time. That clear cold weather and the memory of lime, infinity, and powdery static. That white cell-phone, the spicy rice. Nights of heavy snow on campus and long night drives home. The series of Wednesday night radio shows and our resident DJ’s coming over to visit at the turn of midnight. Those loud nights of campus techno events and meeting different shades of Jewish women with different colors of hair, skin quality, fashion sense, glasses, make-up, and sweat. Those feelings, thoughts, shades, hues, and patterns of purple, blue, grey, black, and white. But none of anything could come close to that one defining moment of meeting Catherine, where from that point on it would watermark and define an era in a time where everything added up to equal an apex.

**********

We met again in Spring a couple of times thereafter. We sat down over ice cream and even traded more music to each other. I still truly believed that Catherine was someone special and stood out from everyone I have ever met, and I seriously wanted to remain in touch with her. She happily obliged as she gave me a sympathetic goodbye hug in the end.

Later on that season I had an art report to do and she had an affinity for museums. I offered Catherine an afternoon in New York City and we went to the MOMA as I prepared my critique about Joan Miro’s Women, Birds And A Star. At the end of that mostly sunny day we said goodbye to the city and took the train ride home together; our discussion of each others’ individual lives, future plans, and possible outcomes comprised the final hour of the last time we would ever see each other…for a long, long time.

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